Since the beginning of our research on occupation formations in the Ukrainian territories, I have reviewed numerous news pages that show some traces of what is happening in the temporarily occupied territories (after all, most of the available information can only be perceived as an “echo” of what is really happening). It was an attempt to trace the mechanisms used by Russia to carry out the occupation, maintain it, and reproduce it. What actions, projects, and decisions are systematic, and what results are they aimed at? How do the occupiers repeat themselves when trying to integrate newly occupied territories? Through all these available “echoes”, one can grasp the ways in which the occupying, hierarchical power structures form infrastructures of dependence—and how they are all interconnected, functioning as a system.

Since 2014, Russian occupiers have been implementing their concept of “patronage” between regions.¹ It involves assigning each occupied settlement or region of Ukraine to a region of Russia. Under this arrangement, Russian governors are supposed to help the “new territories” integrate and “recover” by providing methodological and material assistance. For example, they can manage the construction of roads and infrastructure, relocate their employees, coordinate volunteers, conduct monitoring, and attract business. The concept of “patronage” is one of the key tools that Russia uses to establish power and create conditions in which the temporarily occupied territories are forcibly tied to Russia in various ways. Thus, there is a clear division between the “periphery” and the “center”, with the center mapping out occupation plans for Ukrainian territories.

In general, maps are produced to depict existing spaces or to plan future ones. They outline their boundaries, define landscapes, serve as signposts, divide space into zones, depict infrastructure, and are generally one of the key tools for capturing reality, making it more tangible. This process involves elements of influence and power — and the struggle for the right to participate in the visualisation of space. Who will draw the map and how? Who will draw the boundaries? Who will name the spaces and places? What can be visible? And what remains invisible? Maps are a reflection of social and cultural contexts, so they are considered an object for anthropological research and a tool for analysing existing political constructs.

In 2022, all borders between countries “disappeared” from the russian resource Yandex Maps. The Yandex press service explains this as a shift in “focus” from state borders to the spatialities of nature. A Google search on this topic brings up similar queries such as: “How do I turn on the borders?”, – russian users ask.

russia uses maps as a weapon – for example, by creating so-called “master plans” for occupied Ukrainian cities. These are developed by the “Unified Scientific Research and Design Institute for Spatial Planning of the Russian Federation” on behalf of the state-owned joint-stock company DOM.RF, working together with the “chef regions”.

Master plans may include, for example, detailed plans of urban areas – as shown here in the master plan for Mariupol, which was occupied in May 2022: industrial, residential, recreational, as well as agricultural, forest park and cemetery areas are marked in different colours (see Map 1). With the help of such maps, the occupiers manipulate spatial orientation and its normal functioning.

Master plans also depict the layout of the transport network. They include plans for the construction of roads of ‘federal significance’. This creates an infrastructure network that connects the occupied territories of Ukraine with the territory of russia, making them accessible and dependent. The next slide shows the plan for 2030 (see Map 2).

The plans also differ in terms of their temporality, with time frames of 10-15 years ahead becoming a way of occupying the imagined future. Master plans serve as a starting point for the further creation of detailed construction plans with contractors and budget planning. They are also used to advertise “new territories” to russian businesses, with the vision for these areas shaped by regional bosses.

Rapid spatial redevelopment is a tool used by the occupiers to clear the space (including changing the names of streets and towns) of the consequences of their own military actions and the memory of their own crimes.

In contrast to occupational cartography, there is the concept of counter-mapping, which enables resistance to dominant power structures and policies of silencing. Counter-mapping is the creation of ‘alternative’ maps that show space through the eyes of the people who have a personal or communal connection to a place and the space formed there. They can show personal, lively perceptions of cities — favourite routes, sensory feelings, experiences and significant events. Comparing such maps with those of the occupation, the artificial russian infrastructure, which is being systematically and forcibly developed, becomes noticeable. This practice is also valuable on an individual level, as it allows people to maintain a connection with spaces that are important to them and memories that are tied to these spaces.

As part of the joint research, I organised a mental mapping workshop in Zhytomyr in summer 2025.² Participants included people from Kharkiv, Kherson and Kakhovka, as well as several members of the Zhytomyr Community Foundation who wanted to join in the practice. Participants created their own maps of their hometowns to visualise their memories of important, personal places and home.

While preparing for the workshop, I was also inspired by the Donbas Odyssey project, which is a collection of personal stories about cities and mental maps from internally displaced persons. The team uses the collected materials in exhibitions and public interventions that aim to offer a virtual journey through Donbas through individual private stories.

The workshop consisted of three parts. First, participants drew various physical infrastructure (buildings, roads, landscape) that they remember and find personally important on a sheet of paper – on the scale of their own city, neighbourhood or courtyard. Here are photos of maps created by participants who agreed to publish them anonymously.

There was no time frame, but one of the participants decided to paint what life was like “in peace” – before 2022, before he and his family had to leave Kharkiv. Specifically, he chose to depict what represented relaxation and tranquility for him on weekends: the place where he went spearfishing.

The next step was to add the smells and sounds associated with these places to the drawing – they either wrote them down or sketched them.

One of the participants drew traces of debris in buildings on the map in the form of black spots. There is also mention of “quiet, peaceful” at home, “warm wind” in the garden, and “lively city” in the center. It is interesting to see what images of home our memory decides to show us when it is currently inaccessible. Is it how we last saw it? Is it how it is safe to remember it? Or is it how those who observe it in real life describe it?

This is about the holistic, momentary experience of being at home, surrounded by the “Kakhovka Sea”, the smell of olives and cut grass, and the sounds of frogs, boat motors, children, and the gate to the house opening.

A participant who was forcibly displaced from Kherson several years ago depicted it as it had been throughout her life prior to the full-scale invasion and eight-month occupation of the city. Here are various places that are significant for the city and key for her, as well as many birds, freshness, and water, which she wanted to share with us through her stories.

After that, there was an opportunity to reflect together and talk about feelings and memories. Participants also showed photographs of the places they shared in their stories. One of the important goals of this workshop was to create a safe for being with one’s memories.

In the discussion, participants also compared what they miss in Zhytomyr, where they all now live, and how their different experiences of home are now coming together here in one city.

Such workshops can be valuable for different groups of people – not only in the context of forced displacement or loss of home, but also for participatory urban planning initiatives. This format provides an opportunity to reflect on space and record one’s experiences and visions on paper. Also, the focus when creating counter-maps could be the collective memory of places important to the community or a vision of the future of the city. In this field, several urban organizations have done important work in developing a joint “Vision for the Reconstruction of Mariupol”. All strategic decisions were made based on the results of joint discussions, including with Mariupol residents who now live in other cities of Ukraine. This presents a strong example of how spatial planning and sense-making can be carried out even when the territory itself is physically inaccessible.

Through counter-mapping and the recreation of personal perceptions of home, what is natural for a space that is currently occupied or inaccessible for other reasons becomes visible. In this way, what once shaped this space and still defines the feeling of home and belonging is not lost or dissolved.