Last week, thousands of readers gathered in Kyiv for a literary festival, attending events despite the threat of air raids. The ongoing conflict between Russia and Ukraine, now in its fourth year, has not diminished the country’s appetite for literature; rather, it has intensified it. Throughout the full-scale invasion, Russian forces have targeted Ukrainian cultural institutions, damaging or destroying over 700 libraries within the first three years. These attacks have aimed to undermine Ukrainian identity by erasing its cultural heritage.

In response, Ukraine’s literary scene has seen a notable shift away from Russian-language titles that once dominated the market. Ukrainian literature and publishing have flourished, expanding beyond war reportage to include experimental works and narratives that seek to bridge experiences between frontline combatants and civilians distant from the immediate fighting. For many, literature represents more than a casualty of war—it serves as a crucial tool of survival, resistance, and witnessing.

This phenomenon is not unique to Ukraine. During Sudan’s civil war in 2023, a resident of Nyala in Darfur opened a library to counteract the closure and destruction of book institutions amid conflict, offering a form of refuge and escape from hardship. Historian Andrew Pettegree has argued that books are “both victims and protagonists” in wartime, challenging the prevalent focus on their destruction. Echoing this view, Franklin D. Roosevelt once described books as “weapons,” though their deployment can have varied implications.

In Myanmar, literature continues to play a vital role in political struggles. The brutal military coup of 2022 prompted many writers and poets, including former anti-war poet Maung Saungkha, to take up arms against the regime. The experiences of these individuals are chronicled in the recently published book *Frontline Poets: The Literary Rebels Taking on Myanmar’s Military*, which interweaves their poetry and personal narratives. Poetry has historically been central to Myanmar’s political resistance, dating back to its anti-colonial movement.

In Gaza, where Israeli strikes have killed at least 45 cultural figures—including prominent poets Saleem al-Nafar, Refaat Alareer, and Hibu Abu Nada—literature persists despite immense hardship. Huda Fakhreddine, a Lebanese-American academic and translator, has criticized the narrow framing of Palestinian voices, noting it is “shameful that we only allow Palestinians space on the page when they are dead or being slaughtered.” Prior to the conflict, Gaza had a rich literary tradition supported by its high literacy rates and multiple universities.

Poetry emerging from conflict zones like Gaza conveys realities that often evade cameras and statistical accounts. Nazmi al-Masri, a languages professor at the Islamic University of Gaza, emphasized that such works bear witness to suffering while also daring to envision a future beyond destruction. Across diverse war-torn regions, literature remains an enduring form of cultural resilience, testimony, and hope.