Telegram as wartime infrastructure: alternative supply chains in Dnipropetrovsk region, winter 2025

4.1 Official channels of supplies and rise of alternative routes

During the height of the war, official systems for communication and equipment requests were deliberately kept non-public to avoid providing intelligence to the enemy. Formally, brigade commanders submitted requests through the Ministry of Defense’s Electronic Document Management System (СЕДО) and the Army + app. ^{23 , 24} But interviewees described these procedures as slow and unpredictable, noting that “the waiting time is typically difficult to predict” (VOL-9). Another respondent added that requests were often misaligned with urgent needs (MIL3). Volunteers also mentioned risks such as inefficient resource allocation and possible corruption (VOL1). In this context, volunteer hubs in Dnipro and Lviv (both formal organizations and informal networks of resistance and care) became crucial intermediaries. They received requests via Telegram chats, calculated costs, and mobilized resources for providing the equipment needed.

Over time, soldiers also built stable relationships with businesses, state institutions, and charitable foundations, which often became the first point of contact for equipment needs. ²⁵ These actors could negotiate quantities, timelines, and even publicity aspects of deliveries (VOL-9). Yet when requests could not be fully met, brigades relied on civilian volunteers who mobilized smaller resources via Telegram groups and channels. At the platoon or company level, decisions about urgent items were often made collectively, drawing on informal contacts among businesses, foundations, and familiar volunteers who could respond quickly.

Formal procurement remained possible but cumbersome. Registering equipment through official procedures required commanders willing to shoulder the burden of documentation and audits, something respondents described as rare (VOL-1). By contrast, receiving items as gifts required little more than a photo for donor reporting, which over time became a widely accepted practice (MIL-9). Until 2024, soldiers preferred this path, but as societal support declined, ^{26 , 27} commanders increasingly insisted on formalizing deliveries to secure them for specific units (VOL8). Where foundations cooperated, the process worked smoothly; otherwise, requests were reposted through Telegram and other informal networks until sufficient funds were raised.

These overlapping practices revealed both the strength and fragility of the system. Volunteers, in effect, took on functions normally assigned to the Ministry of Defense, blurring the line between formal and informal governance. Once transferred to Telegram, these relations produced a culture of care and cooperation but also amplified familiar problems: duplication, mistrust, and exposure to manipulation. The platform’s insecurity, coupled with its appropriation by political and hostile actors, further heightened the vulnerability of those engaged in these improvised infrastructures of support. ^{28 , 29}

Diaspora groups carried part of this burden as well. Though geographically distant, they were expected to leverage broader access to international resources. Once requests from Dnipro volunteers (for example, for generators or tourniquets) were verified and funds collected, Ukrainian diaspora in Germany purchased the equipment locally and organized transport through networks of refugee drivers found in Telegram groups. Supplies were routed via Lviv and Dnipro to units closer to the frontline. Deliveries were documented with photographs shared in fundraising channels, reassuring donors and sustaining further rounds of support.

4.2 The role of telegram

Government institutions with their hotlines struggled to cope with the scale and speed of events, where the needs of civilians and militants went beyond the capacities of official institutions. In extreme conditions, existing infrastructures of communication, delivery, and coordination became overwhelmed. ^{30 , 31} In several southeastern regions of Ukraine, particularly those targeted by the advance of Russian troops, information channels and logistical chains were disrupted, also due to chaotic decisions, population movements, infrastructural damages, and bureaucratic delays.

Under such conditions, citizens, volunteers, the military, and diaspora networks turned to the most widespread and quickly accessible digital tool Telegram ^{2 , 32} to organise survival, coordinate logistics, and maintain a sense of connection and decentralised collective care.

Thus, among the available platforms, Telegram rapidly became the primary virtual place of communication. ² Several of its features made it particularly suitable for wartime conditions:

1. anonymity and pseudonymity ¹² lowered the barrier to participation and allowed individuals to engage in interactions freely;

2. thematic groups and broadcast channels ^{2 , 4} rapidly attracted audiences numbering in the tens of thousands, enabling swift circulation of information, which supported coordination and large-scale information-sharing;

3. a low level of moderation and minimal platform interference ³³ created an environment in which messages could circulate without delay, though this also meant greater vulnerability to false, biased, or manipulative information;

4. accessibility and popularity, given that Telegram was already widely used in Ukraine ² and the wider post-Soviet region, ³ making it a natural and intuitive choice for many citizens at the outset of the war.

Technically, Telegram offers two different chat types: ³⁴ cloud (default) chats, which are synchronized across devices and stored (encrypted) on Telegram’s servers to allow multi-device access; and secret chats, which are end-to-end encrypted, device-bound and do not persist on Telegram servers. Secret chats protect message content from server-side access but are limited to one-to-one sessions and do not support multi-device syncing. Even when content is end-to-end encrypted, Telegram (like other platforms) can still retain metadata (for example contact interactions, timestamps, and IP logs depending on circumstances), and public features such as channels, bots, and large broadcast groups enable high-reach distribution and automation but also centralize audiences and increase metadata exposure. These design choices produce trade-offs: cloud chats enable coordination at scale and cross-device convenience, while secret chats offer stronger content confidentiality for sensitive coordination – but neither choice eliminates risks from metadata leakage or adversarial use of channels/bots.

Taken together, these technical and socio-cultural characteristics made Telegram a shared space of interaction, co-organising, and coordination for building collective resilience and providing care where it was needed.

Although Telegram dominated communication among engaged actors and their informal networks, it was not the only platform in use. Viber remained popular among the older generation, valued for its simplicity, but was less effective for large-scale coordination. WhatsApp was widely used by the Ukrainian diaspora and for everyday interpersonal communication, especially in Western Europe, ^{32 , 35} but limitations on group size and dependence on phone contacts made it less suitable for open, distributed organisation. Signal was considered by some activists and military personnel to be more secure (MIL-10), but it never achieved mass adoption due to its smaller user base and limited integration into existing networks.

Within this ecosystem of messengers appropriated for organising support and resistance, Telegram occupied a key position: it combined reach, flexibility, and cultural embeddedness, making it the primary digital infrastructure at the early stage of the war. However, the insecurity of its use remained a significant issue to be addressed.

5.1 Step 1 – requests from the frontline

Military personnel stationed in bases around Dnipropetrovsk, regularly hit by bombardments and drone strikes, initiated the process by sending urgent requests in Telegram chats shared with trusted volunteers. All requests were time sensitive. Military 3 stressed: “We sent the request to our trusted volunteer chat; otherwise, the waiting time would be unbearable”. Also, to avoid revealing sensitive positions, soldiers often wrote in coded language or used indirect references (VOL-1). These requests typically included lists of essential items: a generator to restore electricity after a strike, or medical supplies to stabilize wounded soldiers. Thanks to this engagement, urgent items such as tourniquets could be matched with donors in minutes: “Sometimes you cannot wait for the official decision, because lives depend on hours, not weeks” (VOL-2).

5.2 Step 2 – volunteer coordination in Dnipro and Lviv

Requests were taken up by volunteer hubs and informal volunteer networks in Dnipro and Lviv, who acted as intermediaries between soldiers and wider donor networks. Their first task was to calculate costs and set priorities. Volunteer 2 said that these hubs and informal systems of communication and coordination allowed to ensure that everything happened fast. Volunteers described themselves as “patching the gaps” left by slow or unresponsive state systems (VOL-4). At the same time, considering the almost urgent and chaotic nature of such requests as well as the high level of trust in volunteerism as a fast alternative to official sources, the question of verification of needs by providers arose. Fraudulent appeals were common, forcing what respondents called “reputation audits” - informal, trust-based verification process employed by Ukrainian volunteers to evaluate the legitimacy of urgent aid requests received via Telegram during the Russia-Ukraine war by unknown users. Rather than relying solely on superficial evidence like screenshots of supposed deliveries, volunteers used to check these persons of organisations by cross-referencing the requester’s history, profiles in social media, affiliations, and endorsements from established contacts within closed, trusted Telegram groups. This relational gatekeeping helped to minimizing emotional and financial exploitation: “Screenshots (with delivered supplies) were not enough anymore – we always check reputation first” (VOL-5).

Another feature of responding to requests from unknown actors was establishing trust. As the volunteer coordination infrastructure became a well-known brand, cases of dishonest use of these networks and fraud began to emerge. Therefore, volunteers admitted that they were working under constant pressure, because they had to ensure they were not being scammed:“Every day you doubt – are you helping a real case or being deceived while others suffer?” (VOL-6).

5.3 Step 3 – fundraising via telegram channels

Once verified, requests were published on Telegram fundraising channels or shared with influencers and bloggers. Donations flowed from ordinary citizens, local businesses, and public figures. One volunteer explained: “Sometimes a single post from a trusted blogger could raise the money for a needed equipment in just a few hours” (MIL7). At this step, both the capacities and fragility of Telegram’s openness became evident: while the information spread rapidly, the lack of formal moderation also created space for scams and emotional manipulation. At the same time, fundraising through Telegram also exposed vulnerabilities, including the risk of misallocated funds, the erosion of informal trust networks, and the constant distractions that strained participants’ motivation.

5.4 Step 4 – diaspora procurement in Germany

Funds collected in Ukraine were transferred to diaspora groups in Germany, who took responsibility for purchasing equipment and arranging transport. Diaspora representative 2 mentioned: “we found the generators through work contacts and a car with a driver – via Telegram group of Ukrainians in Germany”. Diaspora representative 1 recognised that they were not merely donors, “but also part of the (more complex) logistics chain”. By relying on diaspora procurement, volunteers bypassed shortages and inflated prices in Ukraine. In other words, diaspora actors recognised themselves the dual nature of their role: supporting both financially and logistically. Another important role of diaspora actors was an extension of care beyond geographical boundaries of Ukraine. As Military 7 emphasised, an important motivating factor for soldiers lies in preserving the sense that their “efforts are valued” (MIL-7) - especially when this appreciation is expressed not only through words but also through reciprocal actions. In this way, service members do not feel abandoned or detached from the civil society in which they also strive to remain integrated, including through platforms such as Telegram. As the respondent (MIL-7) further noted, some requests made by volunteers were not always fulfilled quickly and may return to the frontline in the form of equipment only after some time. Yet what is no less important for him is the very fact that this motivated work does not stop and that the connection between volunteers and soldiers is maintained until the requested support is delivered. This provides a profound sense of care and reinforces the understanding that the efforts of soldiers remain significant and valued by society.

5.5 Step 5 – delivery and digital accountability

The system of informal ties within logistics networks was already well established, with many groups and individual actors having cooperated for a long time. Contacts of trusted drivers circulated within volunteer communities, enabling reliable deliveries. At the same time, activists often relied on Telegram to identify additional drivers willing to transport goods purchased abroad – for example, in Germany. These items were typically brought first to Lviv, then forwarded to Dnipro, and from there moved toward the frontline, where they were handed over either to volunteers or directly to soldiers. A central element of this process was the practice of digital accountability (improvised reporting practices, typically anonymized photos or updates, used to demonstrate that donated equipment has been properly delivered and used ³⁶ ) toward donors who had contributed to fundraising or procured equipment. Upon receiving deliveries, recipients routinely took photographs to confirm that the items had been purchased at the stated price and delivered to the requesting unit. As one soldier noted: “It became tradition: we always send a photo with the generator or gear, so donors see it’s real” (MIL-9). Such images were anonymized (stripped of identifiable locations and faces) and circulated in Telegram groups as proof of proper use of funds. These rituals of visual reporting reassured donors, reinforced trust, and sustained further cycles of aid.

6.1 Fragile solidarities: providing care in the improvised infrastructures

The infrastructure of care that emerged through Telegram was essentially a network of dozens of individual initiatives. It was informal, decentralized, and weakly coordinated, lacking hierarchy and the procedural clarity of formal welfare systems. Its fragility stemmed from the absence of rules, professional expertise, or standardized protocols. Participants often acted with limited knowledge about how to provide support most effectively, relying instead on available resources and improvised fundraising.

Nevertheless, this fragile system, built on a shared motivation to sustain societal resilience, aid victims, and contribute to collective liberation fulfilled crucial functions. It not only delivered equipment and humanitarian supplies where they were essential for survival, but also created networks of trust between soldiers, civil society, and the broader public. In doing so, it became a source of motivation for continuing defensive efforts. The supply chains described in the case narrative revealed Telegram as an improvised infrastructure of care, which complemented official government services, and, in addition, demonstrates and enables peer-to-peer solicitude. When bombardments left cities in the Donetsk and Dnipropetrovsk regions without power or basic medical supplies, the official system proved too slow to respond and all the more, to ensure the need-centeredness of such responses. Volunteers stepped in, using Telegram to circulate requests, mobilize donors, and link soldiers to diaspora supporters abroad (VOL-7). This ability to respond rapidly meant that life-saving aid often reached the near rear (forward part of the rear zone located just behind the frontline) within days rather than weeks and at the same time revealed the mass character of such support and care.

Yet the very openness of Telegram that enabled such support also made it fragile. Fraudulent appeals proliferated, forcing volunteers to rely on personal trust networks and conduct “reputation audits” before committing to a request (VOL-5). At the same time, this reliance on small, tightly knit clusters protected donors but placed a heavy emotional burden on volunteers who constantly questioned whether they were helping real cases among several requests. At times, overlapping Telegram chats produced “care bottlenecks.” As VOL-11 explained, “Five people start helping at once, but no one finishes the job. We all assume someone else is already on it.” In these cases, solidarity diluted responsibility and slowed action instead of accelerating it.

In this way, peer-to-peer care was extended far beyond organising logistics. Telegram groups became inclusive and welcoming spaces for performing a wide range of socially relevant tasks such as tracing missed persons or gathering information about detainees, especially in devastated areas like Mariupol (DIA-2; VOL-3). These practices showed that solidarity was not limited to material aid but also included efforts to restore the connection where formal institutions could not provide answers and deliver solutions.

6.2 Control: navigating surveillance, moderation, and disinformation

In the diverse ecosystem of Telegram-enabled care, there also appeared a space for formal and informal (as well as direct and indirect) control from the sides of different actors and their groups. Governmental actors’ oversight, though not directly enforceable due to Telegram’s design, involved establishing a clear agenda that designated “allied” actors (“us”) - those supporting this resilience and maintaining this decentralised and self-organised care infrastructure – and “others” as “non-allied” or outright “outsiders.” This was largely driven by wartime challenges and the inability to fully rely on technologies whose use carried significant security risks. Undoubtedly, military respondents were clear that the platform posed serious security risks (MIL-1; MIL-4; MIL-6). A single compromised phone or an incautious social media post could expose a unit’s location and draw enemy fire.

At the same time, within civilian groups, control also manifested through the reinforcement of official narratives, as moderators and loyalist actors sought to limit discontent and reduce backlash to sensitive or unpopular measures. In response, volunteer chats developed informal moderation practices that immediately silenced controversial remarks (VOL-8). Criticism of military leadership or government institutions was often stigmatized as “zrada” (betrayal) or deleted from the group alongside the user who posted it (Vol-5). These practices reinforced unity by maintaining uniformity in expressed opinions and rejecting their diversity, but created in this way an atmosphere where dissent and reflection were difficult to sustain. In one volunteer group, excessive deletion of messages labelled as “negativity” led several long-term contributors to leave. As VOL-8 put it, “If everything you say gets censored, you stop saying anything at all,” illustrating how informal control can suppress useful dissent.

Alongside surveillance and moderation, disinformation emerged as a major challenge, shaping how users experienced the platform. Rumors about mobilization, mistranslated foreign news, and manipulative appeals, often launched by pro-Russian agents and amplified by pro-Russian influencers, circulated widely and fueled mistrust (DIA 2). Such narratives fed mistrust and confusion, at times even shaping attitudes toward ceasefire or peace talks. In this way, Telegram was not only a site of solidarity but also a contested space where governance, censorship, and propaganda unfolded in parallel.

Telegram’s convenience and lack of moderation possibilities as well as the impossibility of granting the Ukrainian government (as well as the Russian one, as the opposing side in the conflict) access to control user behavior made it indispensable during wartime. Also, it turned it into a high-risk environment with a wide set of challenges. Users across different groups described strategies of self-censorship, verification, and selective disengagement to cope with these risks which included (but were not limited to) digital vulnerability to internal and external (relative to the conflict side) adversaries, dependence on Telegram’s infrastructure capabilities and design in critical situations.

6.3 Resistance: tactical withdrawal and emotional self-protection

Against the constant flow of requests, news, and propaganda, many respondents described practices of resistance that took the form of withdrawal. Volunteers muted their Telegram notifications after certain quiet hours (as requests often arrived in late hours), setting temporal boundaries to preserve sleep and mental health, even though they often felt guilty for doing so. VOL-6 noted that prolonged disengagement sometimes resulted in missed urgent requests, showing the tension between emotional protection and operational needs. This protective stance helped sustain long-term participation but reduced relational closeness that often motivates donors. VOL-12 admitted deliberately avoiding reading personal stories attached to requests: “If you feel everything, you break. Better to treat it as numbers.” Soldiers went further, treating Telegram itself as a liability for sensitive communication and relying instead on encrypted messengers or military radios. Non-use for social purposes became a tactical stance (which was also suggested by the government) - resistance by abstention.

Diaspora members, in turn, described cycles of compulsive monitoring followed by forced disconnection to cope with anxiety. They struggled to balance the need to remain informed and engaged with the emotional toll of consuming news about their homeland around the clock. These rhythms of engagement and retreat highlighted how Telegram was lived not only through participation but also through refusal.

Resistance in this sense did not mean open opposition, but rather the carving out of protective boundaries against overexposure and risk. It illustrates that appropriation of digital infrastructures in wartime involves not only acts of solidarity and control, but also the capacity to step back, mute, or log off as a means of survival. In such a way, improvised infrastructures of care (but also control and resistance) sustain communities in high-risk environments. They are fragile and place heavy burdens of verification on individuals. Therefore, designing more tailored tools for support of distributed trust-based services could lower this strain. Finally, the case demonstrates the duality of platforms like Telegram: the very features that enable rapid coordination (due to their openness, speed, minimal moderation) also create or reinforce vulnerabilities to manipulation and surveillance. Future socio-technical infrastructures must balance these competing dynamics, supporting resilience while safeguarding trust and security.