The Queer Face of War is the first in-depth visual and oral history of an LGBTQ+ community in war. Award-winning photographer and journalist J. Lester Feder presents portraits and profiles of queer Ukrainians, capturing both their vulnerabilities in conflict—and the ways they feel especially called to fight.
Expanded from Feder’s acclaimed New York Times essay, this project tells a story with global resonance amid rising authoritarianism: how Russia weaponized homophobia to attack democracy and vilify Ukraine’s Western allies. It shows how queer Ukrainians have fought back—defending their country, demanding equal rights, and gaining support from their fellow citizens as part of the democratic resistance.
These portraits are rare because recent wars have taken place in places where it is unsafe to come out. The Queer Face of War is a crucial record of queer history—and a testament to resilience and resistance.
For queer people, visibility is power.
When Russia first started its war in Ukraine in 2014, Viktor volunteered to fight. Viktor came from a military family and suppressed the feeling he might be gay — even visiting brothels with fellow soldiers to keep up appearances. But he was ready to put his life on the line and signed up for a unit deployed to Eastern Ukraine that saw some of the bloodiest battles of the war's early phase in 2014.
He came out in 2018, founding Ukraine’s first organization for LGBTQ+ soldiers. The organization has grown to 600 members since Russia launched the full-scale invasion in 2022. Its social media campaigns have been instrumental in boosting public support for LGBTQ+ rights.
When Viktor was discharged in 2024, only six soldiers remained of the 100 he started with.
Olena Hloba founded an organization for the parents of LGBTQ+ children in 2012, fearing for the safety of her son, a prominent gay activist. Threats against him ultimately got so bad that sought asylum in the United States. So Olena moved into his comfortable apartment in Bucha, a bedroom community outside Kyiv.
Olena saw the first Russian tank late in the evening from her top floor window. Soon Russians controlled the town.
Olena survived by hiding in the basement of her apartment building for many days before making a mad dash for Ukrainian territory by bicycling through the snow. It was only later that she learned Russians executed civilians en masse in her hometown.
She later returned to Bucha to continue her work.
”Our LGBT children are soldiers now, and they are also fighting for their country,” she said. “Maybe their country owes them something?”
Diana was the kind of person who was always taking in strays. “I’m like their mother,” Diana said. “In every creature there is a story just next to me." Diana’s family had grown to nine cats and a number of dogs by the time the Russians occupied Kherson, which is one reason she didn’t flee.
She also was not the kind of person to run from danger. When Russian soldiers discovered a rainbow flag while searching her house, she told them she was a lesbian. “I will not hide,” she said. They took her into detention, where a soldier tried to rape her. “I’ll show you men are better than women,” he said.
She was detained a second time months later. Her new captors attempted to force her to have sex with another lesbian prisoner at gunpoint, before taking the group of detainees outside and opening fire. Diana was one of the few who survived and managed to escape.
The Russian soldiers forced Oleksii Polukhin to put on a red dress before they took him for interrogation. “Wear it or we will beat you to death,” they told him. They held Polukhin for 64 days, beating him and questioning him about the identities of LGBTQ+ people and pro-Ukrainian activists. Polukhin is the first LGBTQ+ person to publicly tell his story and cooperate with war crimes investigations by Ukrainian prosecutors, who are building a case against his captors for illegal detention, torture, and sexual violence.
Oksana’s world shattered as she crossed the length of Ukraine on an overnight train. She was returning from coaching a track and field tournament near the Russian border. Mykolaiv’s train station was already destroyed by Russian bombs by the time she got home. She decided to stay in the city to support the disabled children she teaches at a special education school. She also helped Gay Alliance Ukraine to set up a humanitarian hub for LGBTQ+ people in the city.
Vadim suffered a hate crime in Kyiv five years before the full-scale invasion — unknown attackers beat his head against a metal fence and left him blind. When Russia bombed Kyiv, he evacuated with acquaintances who didn’t know he was gay, and they took shelter for several weeks with an Orthodox priest. A Facebook friend ultimately found him a ride to Germany, but Vadim had to navigate a complicated train journey without being able to read signs or speak any EU languages. He is now isolated in Berlin, waiting almost a year for a German class designed for blind people, the first step towards integrating into his new life.
Artur Ozerov’s drag persona, AuRa, was barely a month old when Russia launched the full-scale invasion. At first, Artur decided AuRa would not be seen again in public until the war was over. “Until the war is over, I will not go out anywhere in character… I cannot morally allow myself to have fun when people are dying,” he said. And he was busy: he worked for Kyiv’s Military Administration.
But when he mentioned he was a drag queen to a reporter, his story spread across the internet, in Ukraine and abroad. He became one of the most visible queer people supporting the war effort. So after spending his working hours supporting Kyiv’s air defense forces, Artur continues to perform.
“It shows that regardless of our sexual orientation, preferences, religion or skin color, if we want to defend our homeland, we will do it.”
Adam was sixteen when the Russians destroyed his home in Mariupol and killed his grandmother. But his family supported the Russian invasion and decided the best thing to do was to relocate to Moscow.
But Adam couldn’t stand to be in Russia after what the country had done to his home. Russia was also tightening its crackdown on LGBTQ+ people, and Adam was transitioning to living as a boy.
As a minor, Adam couldn’t travel on his own. But his boyfriend, Teardrop, who was living in a part of Ukraine under Russian control, was 18. He made the trip to Moscow and came up with a plan to bring Adam back to Ukraine.
They are shown here in their apartment in Kyiv, holding cherished stuffed animals that made the journey back to Ukraine in their luggage.
All images by J. Lester Feder; images 1-3 and 6-8 were originally created for Outright International.
