Statement 

by Permanent Representative of Ukraine to the United Nations

 H.E. Dr. Andrii Melnyk at the UN Security Council meeting on 

“Maintenance of peace and security of Ukraine”

(20 June 2025)

Madam President, Distinguished Members of the Council,

I wish to thank the Guyana Presidency, and in particular Ambassador Rodrigues-Birkett, for convening today’s urgent Security Council meeting, and Denmark, Greece, France, the Republic of Korea, Slovenia, and the United Kingdom for supporting Ukraine’s request.

I am also grateful to the briefers — Assistant Secretary-General Miroslav Jenca and OCHA Director Wosornu — for their thoughtful insights and a very clear-cut position.

Today, I speak before you not only as a representative of Ukraine, a victim of Russia’s war of annihilation.

Today, I stand as a citizen, as a son, whose family’s life back home in Kyiv — like the lives of millions of other Ukrainian families — hangs by a thin thread, never knowing if Russia’s next shelling will cut it.

For over three years, my mother-in-law — a gentle and resilient woman — has endured countless nights punctured by the howl of drones and the thunder of Russian missiles.

Cruise missiles. Ballistic missiles. Iranian Shahed drones which turned into winged nightmares.

Night after night, the sky above Kyiv and many other peaceful cities has turned into a deadly hunting ground.

But especially during the last months, my mum — like countless other Ukrainians — has been spending every single night, together with my little niece, in a bathroom.

Because the way to the closest bomb shelter in the metro station is far more perilous than hiding at home.

Because it is the only place that might offer a fragile shield against death from above, against the shards of glass that shatter from every window when explosions shake my home city.

But just days ago — on the seventeenth of June — the darkness was ripped apart yet again, this time on an unprecedented scale, marking perhaps the most dreadful night of this barbaric war.

A single Russian X-101 cruise missile struck deep into a residential building as innocent families lay asleep in the gentle embrace of dreams.

Twenty-three souls — mothers, fathers, children — were ripped from life in the blink of an eye. A whole section of this apartment block was obliterated.

In the span of a single heartbeat, their pillows became their burial shroud.

That very night, seconds after this deadly strike, my mum called me. She lives only a whisker away from the house in the Solomianskyi district that was hit.

Her voice, fragile and quivering, bridged the void between us:

And she said: “The walls are trembling… the windows are rattling… I am praying, my son… I do not know if I will ever see your face again…”

That horrible night, my mother and our family were spared by nothing but a stroke of luck in a moment of this endless terror.

Yet, the shadow of that danger still looms over us all, a cruel reminder that the Sword of Damocles is suspended above our heads, knowing it may fall at any moment.

Can you, distinguished members of this Council, imagine this?

Can you imagine your own mother whispering what could be her last prayer, over the phone, as the ceiling above her threatens to become her grave?

This is not a war fought in trenches. This Russian war is waged in bedrooms, it is war in kitchens, war in playgrounds, war in hospitals, in schools.

This is pure terror that never sleeps — terror that steals tomorrow before the dawn can break.

This madness has to stop.

And yet, on the very same day, last Monday, when 440 murderous drones and 32 ballistic and cruise missiles with cluster munition struck Kyiv, killing twenty-eight innocent people in their sleep and leaving over 140 wounded, our Russian colleague shamelessly declared — like he did today with a straight face — that Russia does not target civilians.

If it wasn’t Russia shelling our homes, then who else could it be? Aliens from outer space? Or perhaps Darth Vader and his Death Star? Maybe next time they’ll blame Martians, the Dark Side of the Force, or the Tooth Fairy — dropping bombs instead of coins?

But we all know the bitter truth: these attacks come from a single source — Putin’s decision to terrorize civilians in Ukraine simply because his army cannot win and will not win on the battlefield.

Distinguished Members of the Council,

I speak here today not to exchange accusations, not to hurl arrows back and forth, and not to dance to the tune our Russian counterparts keep playing shamelessly again in this Chamber.

I am here to remind us of the responsibility this Council holds — to protect peace, and not merely rehearse endless arguments.

I believe that even the smallest steps forward are better than yet another round of blame games that we have seen so often in this Chamber.

Our main goal is simple: to stop this horrible, bloody war. And this Council must never lose sight of that.

One of the greatest dangers we face is the slow poison of getting accustomed to this Russian war — what we have heard today — the creeping notion that it has become routine, hopeless, or somehow impossible to end because this Council so often remains deadlocked.

War fatigue may be human, but tolerating daily war crimes, as we have seen in Ukraine, must never be an option.

We cannot — and this Council must not — allow ourselves to grow used to this war against Ukraine, treating it as background noise to other global conflicts.

We cannot allow cynicism to replace responsibility.

Every missile strike, every child killed, every family forced to flee is a reminder that this brutal Russian war must never be filed away as yesterday’s news.

It remains this Council’s duty to prove that even amid deadlock it is still possible to break through and move forward — however slowly — toward ending the bloodshed.

We all need more courage, we all need more creative thinking also in this Chamber.

Let us remember why we gather here, beneath the emblem of the United Nations:

Because the Security Council bears the primary responsibility for the maintenance of international peace.

This is not just a provision enshrined in Article 24 of the Charter — it is, above all, a solemn commitment and a moral contract with all of humanity.

When that contract is betrayed, trust in the very idea of a rules-based international order is shattered as well.

Today, I speak before you with a plea, with one simple plea that transcends Ukraine’s tragedy, but one that echoes the universal, timeless aspirations of humanity:

Help us end this nightmare once and for all.

Use the authority entrusted to you by every nation that has signed the UN Charter.

We urge this Council to live up to its founding promise and to take bold, decisive and urgent action to secure an immediate, comprehensive and unconditional ceasefire for at least 30 – or better 60 – days.

A ceasefire that will hush the drones, ground the missiles and give mothers the right to sleep without praying they and our children will survive the night.

It has now been, as many colleagues have just mentioned, over 101 days since Ukraine committed itself to such a ceasefire.

Regrettably, Russia has chosen to dismiss this path towards silencing the guns.

Moscow has chosen to turn its back not only on Ukraine’s offer but also on the tireless peace efforts of our American friends, of President Donald Trump personally, who have worked relentlessly to create space for a diplomatic solution.

This Council should not look away from this truth:

There is no lack of willingness for peace on the Ukrainian side — only a lack of honesty from those who keep launching the deadly missiles.

I dare to hope — and I invite all of you to share that hope with me today — that in the next days that lie ahead this Council will consider and adopt a resolution calling for an end to these attacks, a very simple resolution that would demand a full, immediate, unconditional ceasefire which would lay the ground for a comprehensive, just and lasting peace in line with the UN Charter.

Let my mother, and millions of mothers like her, lie down at night knowing that the international community has not abandoned them and has not turned away from their suffering.

Let the world witness that the Security Council is not a relic of old promises — but a living guardian of our shared peace and our common dignity.

Before I leave this Chamber, I wish to extend an official invitation to the members of the Council to pay a visit to Ukraine.

Please come and walk our bomb-ravaged streets. Stand beside the dark craters where children once played. Talk to the victims. Hear, with your own ears, the wail of the sirens that steal our sleep every night. Look into the eyes of mothers who tuck their kids into basements instead of beds. Smell the smoke of ruins, touch the rubble, feel the chill of war.

Madam President, Distinguished Members of the Council,

This Chamber is often called the most important room in the world. On the walls, just behind us, we can admire a masterpiece by the Norwegian artist Per Krohg.

The phoenix at its center shall always remind us that peace must rise from the ashes — but it will not rise on its own. It is this Council that must breathe life into it — in Ukraine and in many other countries around the world plagued by the scourge of war.

I thank you for your attention.