There are conversations that can seem “untimely.”
Especially in a country that has lived through four years of full-scale war – and, in reality, 12 years of war altogether. When the horizon of thinking narrows to simply celebrating that we are alive today, discussions about legacy and future generations may appear almost inappropriate.
Yet the longer I observe Ukrainian entrepreneurs, families, and philanthropists, the more clearly I understand: this conversation is not merely appropriate now – it is necessary.
Legacy in Ukraine: not new, but interrupted
When people speak about traditions of legacy in Ukraine, they often mention the Tereshchenko family – usually in the context of philanthropy. But I suggest looking at them from another perspective: as a family that built a coherent system for managing family capital – remarkably close to what we today call a “family office.”
The Tereshchenko sugar empire was, from the beginning, a family enterprise in the literal sense. Artemiy Tereshchenko and his sons jointly shaped strategy, developed production, and managed trading operations. Key assets were structured as family joint-stock companies, with shares belonging exclusively to family members and never placed on the open market.
This reveals something important: capital was conceived not as the private property of one individual, but as a shared family resource – something to be managed, preserved, and passed on.
The sons were introduced to business from a young age. They did not merely inherit the enterprise; they learned commerce, responsibility, and the logic of decision-making. What was being transferred was not only assets but the competence to manage capital – the key condition of long-term continuity.
Equally important was the intangible dimension. The family motto – “Striving for the public good” – defined the framework of what it meant to possess wealth. To be a Tereshchenko meant not only to own, but to be accountable – to the city, to society, and to the future.
In later generations this logic did not disappear; it evolved. Some family members focused on industry, others on politics, others on cultural initiatives. Part of the family’s financial capital was consciously transformed into cultural, educational, institutional, and philanthropic assets – forms of capital capable of outliving markets and political regimes.
The family functioned as a portfolio of complementary talents, united by a common strategy. What we now describe as “family governance” existed among the Tereshchenkos intuitively, yet systematically.
For understanding today’s context, one point is crucial: this model did not collapse from within. It was violently interrupted. This was not a natural decline but a rupture in history.
The break in tradition: March 1919
The Soviet system took more than private property from people. It removed from society the very culture of long-term thinking within private capital.
In March 1919 the Council of People’s Commissars of Ukraine issued a decree abolishing inheritance rights. The decree eliminated the legal right to inherit property across the territory of the Ukrainian SSR. Any inheritance of assets valued above 10,000 rubles was completely abolished. Property of lesser value could only be transferred as a limited right of use – and only to certain family members who were deemed unable to work and in need.
In other words, the transfer of ownership between generations became legally impossible. This marked the beginning of a systemic dismantling of the very idea of continuity and responsibility toward the future.
When assets can be confiscated at any moment, the logic of decisions inevitably changes. It becomes more rational to spend today than to build something meant to last decades. Capital ceases to be something preserved and transferred between generations. Instead, a new everyday culture emerges: “better to spend than to lose,” “do not stand out,” “money should not be discussed – it should be hidden.” And with this, financial strategy as a social norm quickly disappears.
Yet the intangible inheritance proved much harder to destroy. Even in the harshest conditions it survived through people and communities. The historical narratives of Mykhailo Hrushevsky, the institutional memory of the Shevchenko Scientific Society, the cultural code of the Executed Renaissance, and the ethical legacy of the Sixtiers all endured repression and the liquidation of formal institutions.
People were eliminated. Institutions were closed. But ideas and cultural memory continued to pass forward – through students, families, and informal networks.
A quiet revival
Today Ukrainians are rediscovering the tradition of legacy – often intuitively, without formal terminology or frameworks. People are beginning to think not only about their children here and now, but about their future. Not only about their children, but about their grandchildren. Not only about themselves, but about what will exist after them – on the scale of family, business, and country.
I increasingly encounter people who, despite enormous difficulties, make what is in many ways a rebellious choice: to stand up and take a step forward in order to create change. Modern legacy in Ukraine often extends beyond the family. It includes communities and the shaping of history itself.
Family office in the Ukrainian sense
This naturally raises a question: if we are rediscovering generational thinking, what tools exist today to support it?
In our context, a family office is not an office and not merely a legal structure. It is a system of thinking and agreements that moves capital into a long time horizon.
It begins at the moment when an entrepreneur writes down, perhaps for the first time, not a business plan but family values and dreams. When a family speaks not about how much was earned, but about what we want to leave behind us. When a person honestly asks themselves: What do I truly want to pass on to my children?
At some point another realization appears. The greatest capital is people. Not only partners or employees, but family members as carriers of unique talents. The combination of these talents creates a synergy capable of operating on an entirely different time horizon.
A common misconception is that a family office is relevant only for large fortunes. I believe this is fundamentally wrong. We are speaking about a direction of thinking, not a financial category.
Capital is created not when money increases, but when the logic of decisions changes.
Looking to one’s lineage as a source of strength
One of the most important transformations taking place in Ukrainian society today is the reconsideration of our own roots. Because of the traumatic experiences of the 20th century, we often undervalue previous generations and fail to recognize what they passed on to us. Yet if we do not value what we have received, we will never know what to preserve or multiply.
A careful look into the past reveals that talents, knowledge, skills, and assets had to be cultivated so that they could reach us. This is what we call intangible capital – the foundation of values. It is the support that allows us to understand that we are not starting from zero.
Turbulence as a Source of Strength
Since 2019 we have been actively building our own family office strategy. It is an extraordinarily fascinating topic, and for a long time I felt that it would be valuable to share these reflections with Ukrainians.
This year, as times became even more difficult — as many people’s horizons shrank to simply getting through tomorrow — I realized that remaining silent was no longer an option.
Because in moments of uncertainty, thinking in wider horizons — to grandchildren and great-grandchildren — changes the very energy of action. It gives meaning. It restores strength. At that moment business stops being an end in itself. And the real conversation about capital begins — about the future.
The views expressed in this opinion article are the author’s and not necessarily those of Kyiv Post.