Hanging on a wall inside the Ukrainian Embassy in Tokyo is a depiction of the war-torn country’s coat of arms — traditionally a gold trident on a blue background — crafted to appear like a kanji character in calligraphy.
Sergiy Korsunsky, Ukraine’s ambassador to Japan since April 2020, livens up as he talks about the provenance of the piece, which was made by his calligraphy instructor at the diplomat’s request. He shares how his teacher weighed the admittedly irregular commission and returned three months later with the finished product.
“It is truly a masterpiece,” he says during an interview with The Japan Times last month. “It’s unique. There’s no double in the world.”
The moment of focus on culture and art is a snapshot of what might have been had Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in February last year not turned Korsunsky into a wartime ambassador overnight. He would maybe have still been studying calligraphy or working to improve his Japanese-language skills. Or he may have taken up the martial art aikido, something he still hopes to do when the war ends.
And he may have been focused on what he thought would be his priority when he first took up the post: building up economic ties between the two nations, with a focus on the major potential he sees in the area of agricultural cooperation. Those issues still get some attention, but there’s simply no time for calligraphy, aikido and Japanese study.
As long as the war is on, Korsunsky will be working. He works Japan’s day — and Ukraine’s. His idea of a break is switching gears to write in the early hours of the morning. His single respite comes after 5 a.m., when he takes his 1-year-old schnauzer for a walk.
In the more than a year since the invasion began, Korsunsky — who has held various government postings since 1991 — has worked nonstop to deliver information about the war, coordinate with the Japanese government and support Ukrainian evacuees in Japan. Along the way, he says he’s been moved by the support he’s seen from the Japanese public.
“We have to do everything in our power ... being the diplomatic post of Ukraine in Japan, to help, to support, to give information,” Korsunsky recalls feeling after the invasion began. “So we were working literally 24 hours a day trying to cope with the challenges.”
Sleep has not been a priority.
“I will sleep after,” he says. “We are not here to sleep. We’re here to work. And that’s what we do.”
Wave of support
While work was the priority from the start, the war hit home for Korsunsky early on when he saw a photo showing an alarming scene in Kyiv.
“It was chilling in my spine. Because I saw the destroyed column of the Russian army 1 kilometer from the home where my parents live now,” Korsunsky says. “So literally, this is the place where I spent my childhood.”
While Korsunsky and other staff at the embassy aimed to confirm the safety of their families, there wasn’t time to pause. “We could not afford the luxury of being emotional,” Korsunsky says. “We were working.”
They were buoyed, however, by an outpouring of support from the Japanese public, which Korsunsky recalls as a “wave of compassion.”
Crowds began to gather outside the embassy, with police called in to manage the scene. People began leaving flowers, other gifts and cash donations, all of which stacked up to the second floor. Some of the donations are kept on display inside the embassy to remind the staff about the support. This includes money raised by schoolchildren inside several Doraemon piggy banks.
“This is something which Japan did ... even small children,” Korsunsky says.
Also on display is a ¥10,000 note donated by the driver of a garbage truck, with a handwritten message inscribed on it: “Don’t give up to the Russians.”
Wartime ambassador
When Korsunsky, 60, was growing up in Soviet Union-ruled Ukraine, the languages and culture of both Russia and Ukraine were part of his family’s life, “existing simultaneously without any conflict,” he says. That didn’t make him Russian, he says — it was just normal. Today, he decries Russian propaganda claiming that Ukraine has tried to stamp out the Russian language.
Before becoming a diplomat, he studied to become a mathematician, spending years working at research institutes. Eventually, he earned a doctorate degree and began work for the State Committee on Science and Technology in 1991 — the year Ukraine gained its independence from the Soviet Union — kicking off decades in public service. His diplomatic career has taken him to Israel, the United States and Turkey.
“Somewhere deeply in my memory, mathematics still exists,” he says. “But ... I found this job extremely exciting.”
In Tokyo, Korsunsky’s day begins as early as 5 a.m. with a scan of the news and a cup of coffee.
“And then I walk my dog,” he says of the Japan-born schnauzer. “We adore him. So I have to walk him ... and when you walk him ... it’s already some exercise.”
For the time being, that’s the extent of anything close to a leisure activity.
The walk is followed by a deeper look at the latest news. He also spends some time on social media — not just posting but interacting with members of the public. On Facebook, he mostly interacts with Ukrainians, while on his personal Twitter account he is reaching out more to the Japanese public with a mix of posts in Japanese and English that include news on war and chronicles of his travels around Japan. On these accounts, he’s sending messages himself, not through a staff member, prioritizing connecting with the public directly.
But much of his time is spent outside the embassy, traveling around Japan to attend events, meet with government officials and visit Ukrainian residents and evacuees.
One key issue after the invasion began was finding a way to welcome those fleeing the war. Korsunsky started working with the Japanese government and local authorities to establish a system to accept Ukrainian evacuees, a complex endeavor in a nation that has traditionally not accepted a large number of refugees. But the ambassador aimed to set out a distinction from the start — Ukranians were not refugees fleeing their own government but evacuees fleeing danger coming from an outside aggressor.
Since the war started, Japan has accepted 2,375 Ukrainians fleeing the invasion, according to the Immigration Services Agency.
“We are extremely grateful because ... it was developed very quickly in a couple of weeks,” Korsunsky says of the plan to accept evacuees, which involved the central government, prefectures, municipalities and various organizations.
He calls the help “outstanding,” noting challenges like costs, distance, legal issues and cultural differences.
Today, there are Ukrainian evacuees across Japan. Prefectures and municipalities have set up support systems, including those on housing and finances. Some have established offices that evacuees can visit for help.
As part of his work when traveling across Japan, Korsunsky often meets with those who have fled Ukraine. When they hold events or begin business endeavors, he visits and gives them support on his Twitter account.
“They are very grateful, and they're very happy,” he says of the evacuees he’s spoken with. “They have everything for a normal life.”
Planning reconstruction
As a side project, Korsunsky recently authored a book about Japan’s experience with reconstruction across its history, including after the 1923 Kanto earthquake, World War II and the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011.
The topic is one he was pleased to dive into, as he sees Japan playing a major role in the eventual reconstruction of war-torn Ukraine.
“I found it enormously interesting to study what Japan has done,” he says. “It's directly applicable now to Ukraine.”
He says the embassy is already working with government agencies, business organizations and companies to plan ahead for reconstruction work, promoting a “huge opportunity” for Japanese firms. He foresees businesses entering Ukraine after peace takes hold and setting up operations there to build products for export to Europe. Or, he says, companies that gave up production bases in Russia could set up shop in Ukraine instead.
And Japan could help rebuild Ukraine’s destroyed cities, Korsunsky says. He envisions Japan helping build them anew, with a focus on infrastructure development rather than simply reconstructing what was there before. He wants Japan-made bridges and bullet train lines.
Planning can start now, he says.
“We believe that it's important to begin exploring those opportunities to prepare yourself, because once peace will prevail, a lot of countries will be in Ukraine willing to help,” he says. “And definitely priority should be given to those who helped us.”
Push for victory
In its second year, Russia’s war in Ukraine grinds on, and a return to normality for Korsunsky — or a chance to study Japanese and take up aikido — still seems far off.
His priority now remains the same as on Feb. 24 last year, and there simply isn’t time for rest. He’s focused on his desire to do anything he can to help Ukraine win the war.
“Because it’s so unfair, it’s so unjust. It’s so cruel and brutal that you don’t need additional motivation,” he says of his mindset.
In December, Korsusnky made a visit to Ukraine, seeing firsthand a small part of what’s happening on the ground, which he describes as unforgivable, beyond explanation and “beyond any human behavior.”
What he saw hardened his resolve, and his energy is focused entirely on helping his nation win the war.
“So how can we bring victory?” he says. “To work harder. That’s it.”
With your current subscription plan you can comment on stories. However, before writing your first comment, please create a display name in the Profile section of your subscriber account page.