Dmitro Khvilya, the founder of Ukrainian Armor, had no idea that he’d one day make bulletproof vests for a living. Before the Kremlin's war against eastern Ukraine two years ago, he was a concert promoter with dreams of moving to Silicon Valley.
“I worked at (contemporary arts
festival) Gogolfest towards the end of my music career,” Khvilya told the Kyiv
Post during an interview at his company’s factory near Zhulyany airport.
“In essence, Ukrainian Armor is a
start-up.”
Like hundreds of thousands of his fellow
citizens, Khvilya took part in the EuroMaidan Revolution that drove President
Viktor Yanukovych from power on Feb. 22, 2014. He was present on Ukraine’s
Maidan Nezalezhnosti on Feb. 20, 2014, when police snipers murdered dozens of
his fellow protesters.
“The day that dozens were killed by snipers, I thought
that there should be some sort of defense, so I Googled ‘Where do bulletproof
vests come from?’”
Khvilya gathered together a group of around 25 fellow
protestors on the Maidan – many were tailors, some were engineers. They bought
metal and, using instructions found on the Internet, they began to assemble
rudimentary body armor.
The company’s founder said that the money used to buy
the initial equipment came from “pure crowdfunding.” The initial group of 25
people pooled their cash to buy the company’s first pieces of equipment. Then
other people heard about the project, and Khvilya began to be flooded with
calls.
“It was really weird,” Khvilya said,
adding that when Russia invaded Crimea and began to destabilize the Donbas,
orders skyrocketed.
Marketing was easy, Khvilya remarked.
“We understand that, in a sense, the
war benefits us.”
“I stopped doing what I was doing
before, and started to spend all my time on this.”
Soviet surroundings
Ukrainian Armor’s factory is located
in a Soviet-era aviation plant across the street from Zhulyany Airport’s old
terminal. Pictures taken when the company moved in show old Soviet-era murals
along the walls, including one with a Vladimir Lenin quote exhorting workers to
their labor.
“We thought about keeping it to
motivate people,” Khvilya said. However, the company decided against it, and
had the murals removed.
The main factory floor is taken up by
a large metal press, which is used to make helmets. Upstairs, 20-somethings
clatter over Macbooks amid debris from “tested” bulletproof vests – that is,
those that have been shot at to test their effectiveness.
“We want there to be fewer injured
people and fewer dead people,” Khvilya said. “That’s better than selling CDs or
kolbasa (sausage).”
At one point, while showing the Kyiv
Post what Ukrainian Armor uses to test its vests, Khvilya began to wave around
a Russian Makarov pistol in excitement.
“We test to international standards,”
he said, motioning to a submachine gun lying on a windowsill next to him.
Dubious clientele
Despite the company’s high-minded
beginnings, Khvilya admits that Ukrainian Armor often deals with some
dubious clients.
One of its biggest customers is the
Azov Battalion, who called the company “ideal” in a February 2016 press
release. The Azov Battalion has been criticized for allowing neo-Nazis to serve
in its ranks and for its inverted swastika symbol. The battalion’s commanders insist their military formation
supports no political ideology.
“Of course war is bad, but we have no choice,” Khvilya
said. “We have a brutal neighbor.”
Other clients include private
businessmen in need of personal protection, as well as members of the new
patrol police who, according to Khvilya, want extra assurances of their
security.
“Working with these people is extremely interesting;
soldiers, the SBU people, bandits, and businessmen,” Khvilya said.
“It’s
an interesting clientele.”
