WASHINGTON DC – From the opulent halls of Imperial Russia to a defiant act of wartime philanthropy, a set of dinner plates once owned by Tsar Alexander I is now at the heart of an unconventional fundraising campaign for Ukraine.
Mitzi Perdue, the American heiress to the Perdue chicken fortune, is planning to auction the plates and direct the proceeds to aid Ukrainian soldiers and their families.
Perdue, a philanthropist and author, says the act is a form of cultural warfare.
“This is a cultural treasure of Russia, and there’s no chance that I would give them back to Russia,” she told Kyiv Post in an exclusive interview. Instead, she plans to sell them, and ensure that this “cultural treasure goes to help combat Russia.”
The plates, an exquisite example of Imperial Russian porcelain, are a tangible piece of history. Perdue, a porcelain collector, purchased them for their beauty but only later realized their full historical significance. During a 2008 visit to St. Petersburg’s Winter Palace, she saw a single, damaged plate from the same set on display.
“I’m thinking, good Lord, if when a major museum in Russia makes a big deal out of one, then my 12 probably are worth a lot,” she recalls.
Before the full-scale invasion, Perdue was offered $100,000 for the plates by a Russian oligarch.
At the time, she considered the offer, believing in “cultural repatriation.” But the war changed everything.
Now, her perspective is far more defiant. She has a Ukrainian saying she’s learned that sums up her motivation:
“When you’re mad at somebody, you stick a porcupine down their trousers,” Perdue said. “To my mind, selling my Alexander plates is sticking a porcupine down Putin’s trousers.”
A commitment forged in conflict
Perdue’s deep connection to Ukraine began decades ago. “I have a lifelong love of Ukraine because I spent my 21st birthday in Ukraine,” she said.
But the 2022 invasion transformed that affection into a tireless mission.
Her work for Psychology Today, where she wrote about human trafficking in conflict zones, led to a life-altering invitation. The head of the Kyiv Region Police, General Andrey Nebitov, invited her to visit. Within 10 days, she was on the ground in Kyiv.
“I decided at that point... that I would spend the rest of my life doing everything I could to help Ukraine,” she said. Since then, Perdue has leveraged her resources to make a tangible impact.
She auctioned her own Atocha emerald engagement ring for a staggering $1.2 million. The funds were used to replace police boats and 18 police cars in the Chernobyl exclusion zone, a critical move to prevent the smuggling of “highly irradiated” scrap metal.
Perdue also used some of the funds to purchase surveillance equipment for police, which led to the arrest of a human trafficking cartel. “In theory,” she said, “my little emerald ring saved 1,000 women from being trafficked.”
Her contributions, she noted, now approach $2 million. She has been to Ukraine five times and plans to return for a sixth trip within days.
A new chapter: healing hidden wounds
Perdue’s work has now moved to another crucial front: the psychological toll of the war. She described a heartbreaking encounter with a 14-year-old girl in Bucha who watched her family be killed by Russian soldiers.
The girl was “dissociating,” a common trauma response. When Perdue asked if the girl would get counseling, the police translator’s answer was blunt: “Not a chance. She’s on her own.”
This experience galvanized Perdue to take action. She is now raising money for a smartphone-based mental health service that uses artificial intelligence. The tool, which is being developed by Ukrainian professionals, is designed to be free, secure, and accessible to the millions of Ukrainians in need of support.
It’s a pragmatic solution to a massive problem. Perdue, who wrote her master’s thesis on computers in 1965, is using her past expertise to solve a modern crisis. Her efforts extend beyond technology.
In Lviv, she helped create a women’s shelter that serves as a “template” for other facilities. It teaches skills like sewing to help women support themselves.
The project has even inspired American women in Delaware to create a solidarity wall hanging embroidered with flowers for the shelter, a touching gesture for their “sisters in Lviv.”