Inside China’s Embassy in Kyiv as War Broke Out
A rare firsthand account by a Chinese diplomat of the warnings, judgments, emergency meetings, and evacuation efforts in Ukraine before and on February 24, 2022.
The two following essays were published on the WeChat blog 永久的心路 on 26 and 28 April 2026, respectively. They remain accessible on May 1, 2026.
This translation and publication have NOT been authorized by their author or anyone else.
The author is apparently Ding Jianwei, at the time Counselor and Spokesman of the Chinese Embassy in Kyiv, Ukraine. Ding is apparently now retired. —— Zichen Wang
基辅亲历:俄乌冲突爆发前夜
Kyiv Firsthand: The Eve of the Russia–Ukraine Conflict
From October 2021 onward, reports began to circulate that Russian forces were preparing a large-scale offensive against Ukraine. Our embassy, too, continued to gather and assess relevant developments through various channels.
In late November, the embassy convened a dedicated DW [Translator’s Note: abbreviation for Party Committee/“DangWei”] meeting to assess the escalating tensions between Russia and Ukraine. In preparation for the extreme scenario of a full deterioration of the situation, we drew up in advance the embassy’s complete set of emergency-response and consular-protection plans: personnel responsibilities were clarified, posts and duties were fixed, and coordination mechanisms were refined. The meeting also required the logistics team to stockpile meat, vegetables, and other daily necessities early, preparing for contingencies before they arose.
At the time, Military Attaché X and I had been following the situation closely from different vantage points. Taking into account a series of abnormal Russian military deployments, we were among the first to reach the judgment that “Russia’s actions were by no means routine deterrence. Rather, Russia was planning to launch a full-scale attack on Ukraine. Its operational objectives would not be limited to the eastern Donbas, but would be directed at the whole of Ukraine.”
At the time, however, most domestic experts and scholars remained locked into fixed assumptions and an overreliance on experience. They generally relied on the inertia of previous years to assess the situation, simply believing that Russia’s heavy troop presence near the border was no more than routine military exercises and strategic pressure, intended only to stir up the situation in Donbas, and that it would not truly launch a large-scale war.
Influenced by the overall atmosphere of an optimistic assessment, the risk warnings and situation assessments the two of us made were deliberately shelved. Had we insisted on our view, we would easily have been accused of disrupting unified decision-making.
But developments on the ground shattered the mainstream expert assessment. The confrontation between Russia and Ukraine continued to intensify. The situation worsened day by day. Russian forces were transferred across military districts, eventually reaching a total strength of roughly 360,000 troops, deployed densely along the Russia–Ukraine and Belarus–Ukraine borders. Their posture was of a final showdown.
By December 2021, large numbers of Russian infiltration and reconnaissance teams had already slipped into Kyiv. They began covertly marking key military and political targets, as well as critical infrastructure, gathering intelligence. The undercurrents of war were already moving.
I was living in a well-known Kyiv high-rise apartment building, known as the “Corn Cob”, which is less than a kilometre from the core quarters housing the Presidential Office and the government. It was one of the landmarks of Kyiv’s right bank. The residents were a complicated mix: Ukrainian cabinet ministers, members of parliament, business oligarchs, and diplomats from various countries.
At the time, I noticed red cross markings on several walls of the building. Years of diplomatic work, military experience, operational training, and my professional sensitivity made me instantly alert. I judged at once that these markings were coordinate indicators placed for precision artillery strikes. That discovery strengthened my conviction: Kyiv was Russia’s core assault target, and a full-scale battle to seize the city was already on the brink of eruption.
On the eve of the New Year in 2022, at the invitation of my old friend Minister Nemchinov [Translator’s Note: possibly Oleh Nemchinov, the Minister of the Cabinet of Ministers of Ukraine], I went to a century-old restaurant on Andriivskyi Descent to try modern Ukrainian cuisine. Over dinner, as the conversation turned to the situation, he asked for my view on Russia-Ukraine tensions.
I spoke frankly. I laid out my reading of the geopolitical tensions, the force deployments, and Russia’s strategic intentions. I made clear my judgment that a large-scale, full-blown war was already irreversible. The head of the Ukrainian cabinet’s press office, who was also present, was unconvinced. My view, she said, was far too pessimistic. She was adamant that the conflict would remain confined to Donbas. Russia, in her view, had neither the will nor the capacity to attack Kyiv. The subsequent outbreak of a full-scale war fully vindicated every judgment I had made.
On 10 January, 2022, CIA Director William Burns arrived unexpectedly in Kyiv and was received personally by President Volodymyr Zelensky. By diplomatic convention, when the head of an intelligence agency travels abroad, he should liaise with his counterpart agency on the host side; for a head of state to meet him directly is highly unusual. The anomaly put me on full alert.
Later disclosures revealed that Burns had come on the orders of President Biden to brief Zelensky on highly classified intelligence: Russia planned to launch a full-scale invasion of Ukraine on 16 February.
Even after receiving a clear warning from Washington, Zelensky and senior figures in the Ukrainian cabinet remained doubtful, clinging to a hope that things might still turn out otherwise. Still, as a precaution, the Ukrainian government quietly activated a tiered emergency plan. Ministries were split into three groups. Ministers stayed in Kyiv to maintain government operations, while deputy ministers led personnel in batches to rear cities in western Ukraine, including Lviv, Ivano-Frankivsk, and Chernivtsi.
At the same time, the United States and many European countries began issuing urgent evacuation warnings to their citizens. Diplomatic missions moved quickly, transferring personnel and supplies either to western Ukraine or to neighbouring countries. Vacating nationals and relocating embassies became routine. The shadow of war hung over Ukraine, and the air was thick with the sense of an approaching storm.
Entering February 2022, all kinds of rumours about an impending war spread in every direction. Reports appeared constantly about Ukrainian forces discovering and clearing Russian sabotage teams. Yet Zelensky continued, in his nightly televised addresses, to downplay the crisis and project an image of calm, seeking to stabilise public sentiment.
On 18 February, Zelensky convened a special meeting with Ukraine-based diplomatic envoys and stated publicly that “the situation in Donbas was better than the previous year, that a large-scale conflict would not occur, and that diplomatic missions should exercise restraint. I urge embassies not to create panic, not to evacuate blindly, and not to relocate unnecessarily.”
By that time, more than 90 percent of foreign diplomatic missions had already completed their relocations. Embassy buildings across Kyiv stood empty. Only the five-star red flag above the Chinese Embassy remained standing against the wind, flying high.
Under relevant provisions of international law, once a foreign diplomatic mission fully evacuates and begins operating from another location, it must lower its national flag, which is regarded as a temporary closure of the mission. If it later returns to the original premises and resumes operations, it must hold a new flag-raising ceremony and complete the full diplomatic procedure.
On the morning of 21 February, I was invited to the Office of the President of Ukraine to meet with the head of the press bureau. After the official discussion concluded, he suddenly asked, in a solemn and concerned tone, whether the Chinese Embassy planned to relocate to western Ukraine, or perhaps transfer to Poland.
The sudden question left me stunned. On our side, there had never been any plan to relocate or evacuate the embassy. I immediately asked in return whether war was about to break out. His answer was brief: yes.
I pressed him on the timing. With a grave expression, he said it would happen in the next few days—perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the day after. As we parted, I asked once more whether war had become inevitable. He answered in the affirmative, then hurriedly said, “Take care,” and bid goodbye.
At 19:00 on 23 February, my wife and I walked toward the areas around the Presidential Office, the Cabinet of Ministries, and the Verkhovna Rada to observe the situation at close range. The core government district was brightly lit. Passers-by looked calm and went about their evening as usual. We even ran into several acquaintances. On the surface, the city appeared entirely peaceful. Nothing in the streets suggested an imminent war.
Mariinsky Palace, a key venue where Ukraine’s head of state receives foreign guests, was brilliantly illuminated that night. The flags of Ukraine, Poland, and Lithuania flew together from the roof, making clear that Zelensky was meeting the presidents of Poland and Lithuania. By then, fewer than ten hours remained before the full-scale outbreak of war.
As night deepened, traffic thinned on the main roads. Mariinsky Park, usually full of visitors, was silent and bleak. The whole city seemed wrapped in a suffocating stillness. The air was heavy, oppressive. My wife and I both knew how perilous the situation had become and dared not stay out for long. We immediately quickened our pace back, returning to the embassy to join the emergency standby work. By the time I got back to my residence, it was already 23:00.
After days of extreme tension, my nerves relaxed slightly. Yet somewhere deep inside, a nameless unease and my instincts kept warning me that danger was near. I picked up a book to soothe my mind, and unwittingly slipped into a heavy sleep.
Before dawn, a deafening explosion ripped through the night and jolted me awake. Instinctively, I looked at my watch; the dial read clearly: 4:45, 24 February, 2022. Within moments, the shriek of missiles tore through the air one after another. The building shook violently and continuously, while flames leapt into the sky and thick smoke billowed from several directions outside the city. In that instant, the Russia–Ukraine conflict had fully begun, and war swept across Ukraine.
At that critical moment, I picked up the phone...
基辅亲历:俄乌冲突爆发首日的烽火与守护
Kyiv Firsthand: Fire and Protection on the First Day of the Russia–Ukraine Conflict
I offer this first-hand account as a record of unforgettable memories from those days of war; as a tribute to those who stood their ground and moved against the tide in a moment of crisis; and as a salute to every act of responsibility and commitment shown by those who stayed true to their original mission in the face of danger.
At 4:45 on 24 February 2022, the deep silence of Kyiv was torn apart by a riff of violent explosions. I woke with a start and rushed to the balcony. In the suburbs, flames leapt into the sky. Missiles whistled overhead and exploded in succession. The window frames trembled. The sharp, acrid smell of smoke and explosives spread through the air. At that moment, I knew with absolute clarity: war had arrived.
I immediately called DS [abbreviation for Ambassador/“DaShi”]. His voice on the other end was urgent and tense. I answered steadily: “Russian forces have launched a full-scale military strike on Kyiv. The Russia–Ukraine conflict has officially broken out.”
After a brief silence, DS issued a precise and decisive instruction: “Report the full situation to headquarters immediately. Monitor developments closely. Conduct a full check on the safety of Chinese citizens in Ukraine. I am returning to the embassy now. Convene an emergency DW meeting at 6:30.”
After hanging up, I immediately reported to the headquarters’ duty office that Kyiv had come under attack and that the conflict had fully erupted. In an instant, messages flooded in: media inquiries, requests for help from Chinese citizens, questions from friends and relatives. As the war drew closer, panic spread almost immediately.
At 5:15, after completing the urgent report and the initial emergency response, I had no time to wash or rest. I hurried straight to the embassy. Once in my office, I quickly turned on the computer. Battle updates and security warnings were scrolling across the screen in real time.
At around 5:40, DS arrived. Personnel quickly assembled. At 6:30, the emergency DW meeting began on time. The wartime work mechanism was fully activated. Every special working group immediately reported to their posts and assumed assigned responsibilities. The entire embassy entered emergency-response mode.
Under the meeting’s arrangements, I led Deputy Military Attaché X and Third Secretary C to Kyiv railway station to carry out emergency rescue work for Chinese citizens. At the same time, we coordinated with Ukrainian military and police authorities, as well as station management, to organize the orderly and safe evacuation of our compatriots.
At 7:30, after passing through layers of armed checkpoints, we arrived at Kyiv railway station. The scene before us was harrowing and devastating. The cramped station was packed beyond capacity, with tens of thousands of refugees stranded inside. Piercing air-raid sirens screamed without pause. Dozens of armed helicopters flew in formation at low altitude along the Dnipro River. Explosions rang out one after another, seemingly without end.
Panic-stricken crowds fled in every direction. Screams, cries, and desperate wails mingled in the air. Whenever a train pulled into the platform, terrified crowds rushed towards the carriages at all costs, desperate to board and escape. Elderly people struggling to walk, parents holding young children, and pregnant women with limited mobility were all swept up in the surging crowds.
People of different nationalities and skin colours pressed together in panic. Everywhere I looked, there were displaced, frightened, helpless figures. Scenes of chaos I had only seen in Second World War documentary footage were now unfolding before my eyes, leaving me heavy-hearted and overwhelmed by emotion.
By then, the station had been placed fully under military control and was strictly enforcing a policy that gave priority boarding to the elderly, the vulnerable, women, and children. Large numbers of young Chinese students and employees of Chinese enterprises were forced to remain inside the station. Dozens of female Chinese students refused to leave their companions behind and seek safety on their own. Without hesitation, they chose to stay behind, look out for one another, and face the peril together.
When our compatriots learned that we were from the Chinese Embassy, their fear and tension gradually eased. Even in such desperate circumstances, they regained a sense of confidence and hope from knowing that the motherland stood behind them.
When the Chinese citizens learned that we were from the embassy, the fear in their faces gradually eased. In that desperate moment, they regained a sense of confidence and hope from knowing that the motherland stood behind them.
At a critical moment, one student Party member stepped forward and said, “I am a member of the Communist Party of China. If the embassy has any arrangements, I will obey orders at any time and fully cooperate.” Immediately afterward, two more students identified themselves as Party members and volunteered to join the temporary rescue team. They took the initiative to handle demanding tasks such as crowd guidance, information registration, emotional reassurance, and multilingual interpretation. Amid the flames of war, these three young Party members stepped forward, shouldered responsibility, and put their original mission and commitment into action. Though they left no names behind, their simple actions warmed everyone present and moved us deeply.
We formed a temporary Party group on the spot to coordinate command and deployment, classify and settle evacuees, and ensure efficient cooperation. The work covered various groups, including students, overseas Chinese, and staff of Chinese-funded enterprises. We gave special assistance to mothers with infants and those facing particular difficulties. No one was to be left behind. We did everything possible to protect the life and safety of every compatriot.
After several hours of continuous, high-intensity rescue work, by 14:00 that day, we had safely rescued and assisted in transferring 383 Chinese citizens from Kyiv railway station, including 37 infants and young children. The trains were headed toward three main evacuation routes: Budapest, Warsaw, and Chop. We arranged Party-member volunteers to accompany evacuees on board, staying with them throughout the journey, providing continuous care and support, and forming a line of protection along the evacuation routes.
At the same time, we patiently persuaded and carefully reassured compatriots who were unable to board trains in time, guiding them to return in an orderly manner to their campuses and places of residence while awaiting the embassy’s follow-up arrangements for coordinated resettlement and phased evacuation.
Once the railway station rescue operation had temporarily come to an end, we immediately returned to the embassy. Despite their exhaustion, all staff pressed on without rest or food and convened a special meeting at once. The meeting reviewed the rescue operation on the ground, assessed the likely development of the situation, refined and improved emergency measures, and pushed ahead with all preparations for the evacuation of thousands of Chinese citizens in Ukraine.
When the railway station rescue mission temporarily came to an end, we immediately returned to the embassy. Despite their exhaustion, all staff pressed on without rest or food and convened a special meeting at once. We reviewed the rescue operation on the ground, assessed the likely development of the situation, refined and improved emergency measures, and pushed ahead with every effort to prepare for the evacuation of thousands of Chinese citizens in Ukraine.
At noon that day, the Ukrainian authorities officially declared a nationwide state of war, and Kyiv imposed a 72-hour citywide curfew.
Where the people’s safety lies, there lies the state’s concern.
Since the situation in Ukraine began to deteriorate, the CPC Central Committee had remained deeply concerned about the safety of Chinese citizens overseas and had kept the well-being of our compatriots in Ukraine close at heart. The embassy resolutely implemented all instructions and requirements from higher authorities, issuing safety alerts and risk-avoidance guidance in advance, guiding overseas Chinese associations in various places to help themselves and one another through the difficulties, and continuously using authoritative and timely official updates to ease public anxiety, guide people in taking sensible precautions, and help them protect themselves properly.
At 17:00 on the day war broke out, I issued, on behalf of the embassy, the “Remarks by the Spokesperson of the Chinese Embassy in Ukraine on the Current Tensions in Ukraine”. It was the first public notice issued by the Chinese Embassy in Ukraine to reassure all Chinese compatriots in the country after the outbreak of the conflict. Through authoritative information, it briefed people on the real-time situation, offered a precise assessment of security risks, and set out clear guidance on how to avoid danger. At the earliest possible moment, it conveyed the voice of the motherland, reassured our compatriots, and helped stabilise the overall situation.
At the time, the roughly 6,000 Chinese citizens in Ukraine remained generally calm. Although their daily study and life had been severely disrupted by the war, they were able, with the strong motherland behind them, to carry out home sheltering, phased evacuation, and other measures in an orderly manner.







