The collection remains in private hands and lacks legal status, requiring formalization. The owner is reluctant to entrust it to institutions due to past experiences—documents left in a museum in 1985 were discarded during a move. These materials are irreplaceable, as many eyewitnesses have since passed away, taking their memories with them. Local interest in preserving historical records is low. Survival takes priority for residents, and historical research is met with indifference. A stark example occurred in 2006, when human bones were discovered while digging a pit. Despite an official investigation and documentation, remains were discarded as trash by a cleaner—a symbol of neglect toward historical memory. The only viable solution is digitization. However, resources are insufficient—a monitor, stabilizer, eco-flow, scanner, and bactericidal lamps are still needed.
Compiled by Vladyslav Litkevych for Arolsen Archives as part of the project to identify and describe microarchives in Ukraine for EHRI.
Zhukovsky Myroslav Petrovych personally interviewed by Litkevych Vladyslav during his visits to Nikopol in the summer of 2023, further clarification by phone.
Access to the collection is severely restricted due to constant Russian shelling of Nikopol. The area is highly dangerous, with multiple damaged and destroyed buildings. Eyewitness account: "A week ago, a shell hit a two-story house near a bus stop, just 350 meters from me. Two people sought shelter in the basement—they survived but were severely injured by falling concrete fragments and the blast wave. The house is now a skeletal ruin, beyond repair" Nearby, several houses on the same street have been hit, and on October 11, 2023, a rocket struck Lyceum No. 16, a 19th-century architectural monument.
Reproduction of the collection is subject to the owner's discretion.
The creator of this collection has spent over 45 years researching and gathering historical materials related to the Holocaust, World War II, and Soviet-era repression in the Nikopol region. His dedication to preserving these histories has faced significant obstacles, including political opposition, lack of institutional support, and personal risk due to the sensitive nature of his findings. In addition to collecting documentary evidence, he has built a library over the span of 50 years, amassing critical resources despite economic hardship and ongoing threats to the integrity of his collection. His research began in the 1980s when he was in contact with World War II veterans who privately shared testimonies that contradicted official Soviet propaganda. These veterans revealed details about the failures of the underground city committee of the Communist Party during the Nazi occupation of Nikopol, a topic that was politically unacceptable at the time. Contrary to the official narrative, the committee had not functioned as intended—its members had fled, leaving the city without organized resistance. He also uncovered information about a partisan unit, the Chkalovsk detachment, which had not been recognized by the Soviet government because its members had deserted official partisan ranks and instead joined the Red Army. These findings, based on firsthand testimonies, were considered highly controversial, and as a result, he was dismissed from his position at the museum in 1985 under accusations that his work was “incompatible” with the institution’s mission. His research on the Holocaust led him to locate a mass grave in Nikopol, where between 10,000 and 12,000 victims of Nazi terror are believed to be buried. Despite extensive documentation and testimonies from witnesses, local authorities have refused to recognize or investigate the site. He has proposed using ground-penetrating radar (GPR) to establish the boundaries of the grave without disturbing the remains, but officials have been reluctant to take action. In contrast, a separate burial site for 37 Soviet underground fighters, established in 1978, has received state recognition and commemoration. He argues that it is unjust to memorialize a small number of partisans while ignoring the thousands of Holocaust victims buried nearby. His work has also extended to documenting mass graves of Holodomor victims. Witnesses and archival records indicate that these graves are located on Rozhdestvianna Street (formerly Voikova Street) near the Church of the Nativity of the Virgin Mary (geotag: 47°34'35."N 34°18'31."E). Despite efforts to raise awareness, official recognition has been minimal, with authorities granting only a street name change as a concession. His research indicates that at least 11 mass graves contain the remains of victims who perished during the famine, as well as prisoners from a forced labor camp associated with the construction of a pipe plant in Nikopol. He has documented reports of abuse, starvation, and deaths of these forced laborers, but official records from that time were reportedly destroyed during the Soviet retreat in 1941. In an effort to preserve primary sources, he obtained photocopies of declassified German military documents from the US National Archives and the Central State Archives of Ukraine in the 1980s. These include intelligence reports, security division records, and documents from punitive expeditions carried out by German forces in the Nikopol region. Many of these records pertain to anti-partisan operations conducted by the 444th Security Division and the Secret Field Police Group of Army Group South. The poor quality of some copies has made research challenging, but the materials remain a crucial resource for understanding German occupation policies in the region. He has also sought testimonies regarding the 1941 destruction of the Dniproges dam, an event that caused catastrophic flooding. Witnesses from Nikopol reported that the water level rose over three meters within a day, carrying corpses of civilians, soldiers, and animals downstream. The bodies were later buried by local residents under German orders, but the burial sites remain unrecognized. Attempts to document these graves have been met with resistance, as the topic remains politically sensitive. Throughout his career, he has worked to expose neglected aspects of Soviet and Nazi history, often facing opposition from state institutions. His research into the role of Soviet intelligence services in the partisan movement led him to uncover classified reports and accounts that contradicted the official Soviet narrative. A key source in his investigations was Colonel Melnychuk, alias “Sokolov,” an intelligence officer responsible for organizing partisan operations in the region. Before his death in 1988, Melnychuk provided firsthand accounts of the partisan activities in 1941, which were later certified by the Leninsky District Military Commissar of Odesa. Despite his extensive documentation efforts, he has encountered repeated roadblocks from local and state authorities, particularly concerning the recognition of mass graves, decommunization policies, and the re-evaluation of Soviet-era monuments. Officials have dismissed his findings on the Holocaust and Holodomor victims as “assumptions,” even when supported by documentary evidence and witness testimonies. His efforts to erect memorials have been repeatedly delayed or denied under bureaucratic pretexts. One of his most significant pieces of evidence is a 1941 German aerial reconnaissance photograph of Nikopol, which clearly shows an anti-tank ditch that was later used as an execution site. Witnesses, including a man named Rowe (Роу), who was born in 1930, have confirmed that mass executions took place at this location. According to Rowe, German forces conducted executions weekly, forcing victims to strip before being shot by SS units. The burial site remains unmarked, and authorities have shown no interest in acknowledging its existence. Faced with continued opposition, he has sought alternative means of preserving and sharing his research. He has collaborated with independent researchers, Jewish organizations, and international Holocaust remembrance groups, finding more support among these communities than from local officials. He remains determined to see proper recognition given to the victims of Nazi terror and Soviet repression, despite the significant challenges that remain.
Date(s): 1939–1945; 2018, 2021 The collection comprises paper documents, working notes, signed testimonies, and photocopies of published documents. It includes research materials on the Holocaust, partisans, and underground fighters in the Nikopol region. The materials also contain a small folder on the Holocaust, as well as documents produced by Jewish researchers of Tkum on mass shootings in the area. Some materials were submitted to a museum but were not formally registered, resulting in the loss of at least 50 items. The collection contains only a few photographs from the period, mainly depicting individuals. Additionally, it includes a monograph titled"The Nikopol Region, the Holocaust. In Memory of the Righteous Among the Nations of the Worl" (published in 2018 and 2021).
The Holocaust was a forbidden topic under Communist Party rule, leaving no official records. Nikopol’s population shifted dramatically: from 26,000 in 1914 (including 3,000 Jews and two synagogues) to 70,000 by 1941 due to refugees and industrial expansion. Post-WWII, it fell back to 26,000, dominated by newcomers indifferent to the Holocaust and Holodomor, focused on economic opportunities rather than historical memory. Historical narratives were shaped by Soviet-trained propagandists, limiting research on Nazi and Soviet terror victims. Underground resistance fighters referenced 1940s events but prioritized ideological loyalty to Stalin and communism over details. Independent research uncovered forgotten atrocities, including testimonies about a Roma camp execution (~20 people). Despite outreach to the All-Russian Roma Union, local authorities dismissed efforts to memorialize the victims, pressuring researchers to follow the official narrative. A postwar influx of Roma—Yugoslav, Hungarian, and Romanian—complicated their legacy. Some were linked to WWII-era Balkan violence, leading to Tito’s executions of Roma groups accused of provocations. Those who reached the Soviet Union faced assimilation pressure, and by the 1970s, they were expelled from Nikopol.
Personal scientific archive of Myroslav Petrovych Zhukovskyi, Nikopol