Michael Bociurkiw is a global affairs analyst and senior fellow at the Atlantic Council.
As my flight banked toward Schiphol Airport, I was able to catch a glimpse of the trees lining the sprawling memorial site built to commemorate the 298 souls who died on July 17, 2014, when a Russian Buk missile brought down Malaysia Airlines Flight 17 over eastern Ukraine. Many of the trees, ranging from crab apple to evergreens, and planted many years ago, have grown tall enough over the past decade to at least offer some shade for grieving relatives who come to remember their loved ones.
As the 10th anniversary memorial service got under way earlier this week and the skies opened up to bright sunshine, I watched as members of grieving families carefully placed sunflowers, solar power light bulbs, photographs and other items to honour the dead. Near one of the trees, I choked back tears as a British woman stoically brushed off the dust from a photo taken with her husband while he was still alive. Keeping me company during the ceremony was a tree dedicated to 33-year-old Ody Huizen Titihalawa, who was travelling with her Dutch husband and only child.
I have a very personal and intimate connection to the crash: I was part of the team from the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) which first responded to the tragedy, arriving about 20 hours after the Boeing 777 was struck at 33,000 feet on its journey from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur. We quickly became the eyes and ears of the international community as the security situation initially prevented outsiders from entering that part of occupied Donetsk. Amid the smouldering wreckage, torched fields and stench of burnt jet fuel, we spotted many bodies – some still strapped into their seats. With 80 children onboard, we were not surprised to spot many pairs of small sneakers, colourful toys, colouring books and teddy bears.
In all there were passengers and crew from almost a dozen countries, including one from Canada.
While in those first few chaotic minutes at the site it was difficult to grasp the enormity of the task, it did eventually sink in that the site we stood on would become one of the biggest open crime scenes in the world.
As CNN’s John Avalon later put it: The attack on MH17 would be remembered as one of the two “defining crimes of our time” – the other being the murder of Washington Post journalist Jamal Khashoggi by a Saudi hit squad in Turkey.
For the Netherlands, which lost 196 of its citizens, it was considered “the biggest war crimes scene since the Second World War,” Dutch TV journalist Jeroen Akkermans said.
Over the past decade I’ve become close to many of the grieving relatives from previous memorial services and the start of the trial here in the Netherlands. I came back here this week to try to provide them with a sense that they’re not alone, that their stories will be kept alive by people like me until justice is served.
But sadly, as it became evident this week, not one feels any sense of closure as no one has uttered the word “sorry” for what had happened. There’s also a sense that the individuals ultimately responsible for deploying the missile system which brought down MH17 – reportedly a circle that includes Russian President Vladimir Putin – will never spend a day behind bars. I feel for those who’ve not been able to properly bury their loved ones, having only received a piece of bone – or nothing at all.
In November, 2022, a Dutch court found three men – two Russians and one pro-Russian Ukrainian – guilty of murder in the downing of the aircraft, but few believe they will ever serve time. Among the relatives there’s little sense of closure – let alone of justice being served.
Not all is bleak. Roland Oliphant, a correspondent for The Telegraph who covered the immediate aftermath of MH17, said in an Atlantic Council panel Monday that history suggests states do eventually come round to apologizing for past wrongdoing or paying compensation. He pointed to the U.S. paying compensation to the families of passengers aboard an Iranian airliner shot down by an American warship in the Persian Gulf in 1988.
And while Russia has said it will never hand over those convicted, I’ve a feeling that, as time goes on, at least one of them will miscalculate and transit through a country which can enforce the Hague court judgment.
As I gazed upon the 298 memorial trees and the surrounding sea of sunflowers, what was not visible was the unresolved accountability from Russia, the painful sense of loss and the continuing grief – like I just saw etched on the face of a South African man who lost his son.
A final thought. As Australian Attorney-General Mark Dreyfus said at the memorial event: All of the passengers aboard MH17 put their trust in the safety of civil aviation. Yet that very system let them down. Given the situation on the ground in mid-2014 – around the same time we warned that pro-Russian rebels were acquiring shouldered fired missiles and that several Ukrainian military aircraft had been shot down – that Boeing 777 should’ve never been in that airspace, nor the dozens of other jetliners which transited earlier that day. That’s why it’s crucially important that this tragic incident help harden the civil aviation system to prevent a repeat occurrence – especially as more conflicts and hot spots erupt around the world and as more advanced weapons capable of reaching cruising altitude get in the hands of thugs and non-state actors.
Aside from the trees providing shade, there were other signs of renewal, too – young infants playing on the grass, seemingly oblivious to the heinous crimes we were there to remember. Let’s hope it won’t take another 10 birthdays before justice is served.