To be effective or neutral?

The Ukrainian context in the International humanitarian law

While working on creating the Ukraine Pooled Fund (UPF), I faced numerous unrealistic requirements dictated by international donors, including through intermediaries. As a representative of a Ukrainian civil society organisation, I have always had to defend the interests of Ukrainian organisations, although not always successfully — this is the solidarity desire of a solidarity Ukrainian.

A big surprise for us was the rejection of one local organisation during the organisational capacity assessment conducted by the donor’s contractor. The reason for the rejection was that the organisation was helping the Ukrainian military, which the provider considered to be a violation of the principle of neutrality. However, no such restrictions had been defined in advance. This became an impetus for research: what exactly does the principle of neutrality mean in the humanitarian sector of Ukraine and what are the consequences of its dictation for Ukraine.

It is important to understand why non-humanitarian organisations are now primarily responsible for providing humanitarian aid in Ukraine. As of 2021, only a handful of humanitarian agencies were operating in the eastern regions of the country. When a full-scale war engulfed the entire territory of Ukraine, and in many regions humanitarian organisations simply did not exist, it was local initiatives – regardless of their profile – that took on the responsibility to respond to people’s needs: evacuate, feed, shelter, treat. Their work in the humanitarian sector was not and is not their strategic choice, but rather a necessity. 

The principle of neutrality in humanitarian action dates back to the initiative of Henri Dunant, who in 1862 called for assistance to the wounded regardless of the parties to the conflict. This formed the basis for the creation of the International Committee of the Red Cross (hereinafter – ICRC) and the Geneva Conventions, and in 1965 Jean Pictet officially established neutrality as one of the basic principles of the humanitarian movement. Historically, the ICRC has maintained its neutrality, including during both world wars, which led, among other things, to the silence on Nazi crimes. In 2005, the ICRC recognised Auschwitz as the biggest failure in the organisation’s history, but its principles remained unchanged. Today, the story is once again cyclical — the ‘new Auschwitz’ is being silenced in Ukraine.

The world is not Ukraine-centric. We understand that humanitarian law was not created for one war. But, precisely for this reason, this article is not an emotional claim, but a justified attempt to stop the systemic harm that occurs under the guise of ‘aid’.

International donors, networks, platforms – all of them today publicly declare their support for local organisations, communities and democratic development in Ukraine. They come with a desire to help, but the paradox is that along with the money, they often bring rules that not only do not correspond to reality but actually work against the development of civil society. We are forced to ‘fit in’ with neutrality, which has never been our reality. We are taught that ‘less risk’ is better, even if it means less action, less decision-making, less influence.

This text is not an accusation, it is an invitation to a sincere dialogue. Because if partners really want to help, they will hear not only what fits into a familiar framework, but also what expands it. The Ukrainian experience deserves to be heard not because we are ‘special’ but because we are real. And if these realities are not taken into account, even the best intentions can have a destructive effect.

Although the principle of neutrality is enshrined in international humanitarian law, its practical application remains vague and varies depending on the donor’s position, the policy of a particular organisation or the reputational context. In some cases, assistance to the military is considered a violation, while in others — as an acceptable expression of solidarity. Humanitarian law clearly prohibits the financing of arms purchases, but does not provide a clear answer as to whether the transfer of camouflage nets, thermal underwear or medical rehabilitation of wounded who may return to the frontline is a violation of neutrality. These decisions become a “gray zone“, determined not by law but by interpretation—and, worse, by convenience.

In practice, the principle of neutrality is increasingly being applied without clear boundaries. In the case of Ukraine, this is manifested in the refusal to fund even purely humanitarian projects – not because of their content, but because of the organisation’s local actions to support members of its community who went to defend Ukraine from the aggressor. Donor institutions, especially those funded by taxpayers in peaceful countries, have reasons to decide not to fund arms purchases – that’s understandable. But why then refuse to support a hospital, an educational project or a rehabilitation program just because the same organisation once publicly announced a fundraiser to help the military? In Ukrainian realities, these organisations are inseparable from their communities, their direct beneficiaries, and therefore —  from the military that defends these communities. Most of the Ukrainian military were not soldiers before the full-scale invasion. They were teachers, entrepreneurs, doctors, teachers, artists – people who built society. They did not plan to take up arms but did so to protect their children, neighbours and communities.

To ignore or write these people off is to deny the reality in which Ukrainian society lives today. Supporting humanitarian projects associated with organisations that help the military is not an endorsement of war. It is a recognition that behind every defender there is a human story. And that after the war, these people will return to their professions and become part of civilian life again. But only if we do not close the door to them now.

The work of the organisations takes place in a single social space, where civilians and the military are not divided into separate worlds, but are part of a common struggle for life. Where is the line? And who draws it?

The situation is further complicated by these interpretations increasingly being applied not to humanitarian organisations, but to the entire Ukrainian civil society. The principle that should work as a shield for international missions is being unfairly imposed on people who live in war every day. International humanitarian actors have no moral right to demand that Ukrainian organisations be ‘neutral’ in a situation where the aggressor — the russian federation, is clearly and publicly defined by the International Court of Justice. Ukrainians do not choose sides — they defend themselves. And when a public or charitable organisation helps their army —  it does not become ‘political’ or ‘biased’. It acts as part of a society fighting for survival.

Mechanically transferring requirements for international organisations to local initiatives does not take into account the context. Representatives of the Ukrainian civil society sector are not external intermediaries, but participants in the struggle. They cannot and should not separate assistance to civilians from assistance to the army, if both are part of the same community. In an attempt to comply with donors’ rules, some organizations abandon certain areas of work, that are important to the community but “look dangerous” for reporting. This changes not only the content of their activities but also their internal role and mission, depriving them of courage. Under the pressure of “remaining neutral”, Ukrainian NGOs are forced to adjust their identity, which has consequences far beyond individual projects or grants.

• First, horizontal solidarity  — the basis of societal resilience in protracted conflict, is being destroyed. The division between ‘civilian’ and ‘military’ aid erodes the sense of shared responsibility for the country’s survival. If civil society organisations are forced to choose between those who are ‘worthy’ of support, this weakens ties, reduces trust and ultimately demobilises society, making it more divided and less able to resist.
• Second, the effectiveness of humanitarian response is reduced. In crisis regions, especially near the frontline, the needs of civilians and military personnel are closely intertwined.For example, refusing to support a hospital, that treats both civilians and wounded soldiers deprives them of access to critical resources and directly affects their survival. In other words, in an attempt to remain neutral, the system becomes inflexible, slow and, worst of all — ineffective.
• Third, formalism and distrust are growing. To appear “neutral”, organisations change their communications, hide some of their work, or even avoid topics that might “displease” the donor. This erodes transparency and creates a false public image of the humanitarian sector. People in communities see this behaviour and start to view NGOs as careful and lacking courage, following outside instructions instead of being real partners in resistance and recovery.

Finally, the most serious consequence is the distortion of the civil society sector’s mission itself. If today the main task of an organisation  — is to avoid “donor problems” rather than act in the interests of the community, tomorrow we will have a post-war sector that is afraid of initiative, difficult decisions and political responsibility. This will lead to a weak, fragmented civil society that is too cautious to make changes and too dependent to influence public policy or reconstruction.

Ukraine cannot afford the luxury of such an outcome. A strong civil society must remain rooted in reality, flexible, context-sensitive — and determined. That’s why the principle of neutrality, although important in international law, cannot be automatically applied to local organizations fighting for their own survival. Otherwise — humanitarian aid ceases to be a tool for saving lives and becomes a tool of bureaucratic absurdity.

This is not just a matter of policy, it’s a huge responsibility. If we really want to support life, development and sustainability — it is time to speak honestly. 

• We call on international donors, networks and organisations to:

1) Develop and adopt a clear policy for implementing the principle of neutrality in contexts like Ukraine, where there is an internationally recognized aggressor and a party defending itself. This policy should consider the realities of war, when local organisations operate under direct threat and cannot be “neutral” in the classical sense. The Ukrainian experience is not a challenge, but an opportunity: to clarify, specify, and adapt the principle of neutrality so it remains humane, ethical, and effective in this new reality. Establishing such a framework will help avoid double standards, maintain trust in the humanitarian community, and genuinely support those on the frontlines — both literally and in the humanitarian sense.

2) Reconsider approaches to cooperation with local NGOs, stopping the mechanical translation of standards developed for international humanitarian actors. Ukrainian organisations are not branches of international structures — they are part of a civil society engaged in resistance. Their work cannot be judged solely through the lens of donor reputational risk, ignoring their actual role in protecting lives and ensuring humanitarian resilience.

This is a critical challenge for everyone who has the resources, influence, and genuine desire to help. And we invite you to accept it — with understanding, respect and action.

The author of the article is Khrystyna Ivanychuk, an ex-program manager at the Ukraine Pooled Fund