You’re Banned! Lessons Learned from a Denied Border Entry

Traveling through conflict zones has become second nature in my line of work. I often find myself journeying into risky regions to provide essential support to organizations despite the potential hazards. Balancing mission success with personal safety is a constant challenge. However, as I learned firsthand, no matter how meticulous your plans, unforeseen circumstances can throw everything off course.

In August 2022, during an attempt to cross from Poland into Ukraine, I faced a situation I hadn't fully anticipated. My purpose was to accompany a client to Kyiv, allowing him to oversee his business interests. My focus usually centers on planning high-risk operations, and this endeavor was no different. I had invested substantial effort into evaluating potential scenarios for traveling within a conflict zone.

Having frequented Ukraine since 2011, even during the tumultuous events of 2014, I was no stranger to the region. My network of reliable contacts was extensive, bolstering my confidence in navigating the evolving threat landscape. With well-arranged transport and support teams, I aimed for a seamless journey. From choosing the optimal border crossing to confirming visa requirements and liaising with embassy contacts, I was well-prepared.

The initial phase of the trip went smoothly until I hit an unexpected roadblock at the Ukrainian border. As passports were processed, a sense of unease crept in. The border guard abruptly shut the window after handing back the other passports, omitting mine. I quickly realized something was amiss. Perhaps, I mused, it was due to the numerous stamps in my passport from my frequent trips to Ukraine. We waited in anticipation.

An officer summoned me to follow him, leaving my client behind. Inside a building, I was instructed to wait, my passport handed to another individual. It was becoming evident that the journey was taking an unforeseen turn. After a prolonged period, the border guard motioned for me to enter. Without any preamble, he informed me I was banned from entering Ukraine, handing back my passport. Confusion and frustration swirled within me.

I attempted to explain my role and contributions, having assisted in evacuations and humanitarian efforts within Ukraine, even going to places that their government would not to rescue the vulnerable. However, the guard remained steadfast in his inability to provide any explanation, although his demeanor softened and was sympathetic. My only recourse, I was told, was to visit the Ukrainian consulate in Lublin, Poland, for answers. With no other options, I was led back to my client.

Sharing the news, my client's frustration was palpable. Attempting to intervene with the guards, I urged caution, eventually assuring him that my support teams could manage the remainder of his journey. Reluctantly, we parted ways at the border. As the guards arranged a ride back to Poland, the reality of my situation sank in.

After being shoved into the backseat of a complete strangers car that was crossing into Poland, and then being stranded on the side of the highway, I faced a complex web of emotions. Despite my extensive training, I found myself grappling with the very challenges I had prepared others for. Anxious thoughts loomed—would my client lose faith in me? Would my reputation suffer irreparably? How could the Ukrainian government do this to me after the risks I had taken for their people? The despair was overwhelming.

Amidst the turmoil, I relied on the kindness of strangers, eventually finding my way to Lublin. I had always wanted to backpack across Europe, but not like this. I engaged my network and called upon contacts to address the situation. Yet, the response was unanimous: no one could determine the reason for my entry denial. The bureaucratic impasse was both frustrating and disheartening.

I have always realized the importance of expecting the unexpected. My military background taught me to plan for scenarios where I might be absent, ensuring the success of operations in my absence. This mindset had become ingrained in my consulting work. The silver lining emerged as my client's journey unfolded without incident, showcasing the value of thorough planning. My reputation was intact, although it could have gone a different direction.

To this day, the Ukrainian entry ban stands. Despite reaching out to various agencies and authorities, the reasons remain elusive. Every avenue I pursued yielded a different response, each pointing towards hiring a specialized lawyer—an expensive prospect—for clarity. Even if I was able to enter Ukraine again, I would be apprehensive after this experience. I will likley not in the future and rely on my trusted network instead.

This experience underscored the need for adaptability and resilience in high-risk endeavors. While planning is vital, embracing uncertainty and adapting quickly is equally crucial. As I continue to assist clients in navigating complex environments, I draw strength from the lessons learned during that eventful border crossing and hope those reading this will as well.

To find out how you can avoid and respond to situations like this in your own organization, contact Pete.

Peter L Morton CPP

I am the Principal Consultant at Morton Executive Decisions, and a seasoned analytical intelligence and security consultant with 20+ years of experience in government, commercial, and non-profit security. I started my career in early 2001 as a US Army enlisted infantry Soldier, eventually commissioning as an Intelligence Officer. After sixteen years of service, I transitioned to corporate security where I worked for ten years with large security and intelligence teams at Amazon, JP Morgan, and General Dynamics. My success in both the government and commercial sectors has culminated in my ability to currently do what I love the most. Working as an independent consultant with humanitarians globally to ensure aid gets to the riskiest regions in the world.