A woman of 70. Born 200 km away from Moscow, she came to Ukraine with her husband and their small child in 1976 as they got a job at a car works. She looked after the kid and husband was providing for the family. In ten years, the Soviet Union collapsed and their life… didn’t change much. Her husband was still an engineer and she took an accountant position at a local military unit. In the late nineties their firstborn went to study in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, before coming home and settling. Nothing changed in the next ten years, the Orange Revolution, the 2008 crisis went past them. All the while they kept close ties with their family back in Russia. Visiting each other once a year or two. Sending family photos, letters and post cards.
Then came the annexation of Crimea and occupation of Donbas, but conversations didn’t change much, only visiting each other was harder because of increased border checks. Life continued as normal until the 24th of February, 2022. On THE DAY there was no call, week passed by — still nothing. So she took initiative and gave them a call.
“Aлло”, familiar voice answers the phone. “How are you?” “Good and you?” “Okay…”, they exchange a few civilities until the woman can’t contain herself anymore. She is not okay! She told about how russian soldiers are bombing our cities, about the sirens and the mall. They were not impressed and, as all respectable followers of the word of putin, repeated what their TV-scriptures say word for word. Denazification, Banderovites, “we don’t bomb civilians”, “those are fakes”… Her attempts to speak sense into them were futile. Distressed, she says goodbye and as she hangs the phone, it echoes…
“…We all love you, and so does Putin” (Ми все вас любим, и Путин тоже)
Ukrainians now have a terrible time speaking with relatives in russia. Having to prove the REALITY of our suffering is infuriating. HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY BE NOT TRUE?! WHAT IS MORE REAL THAN PAIN? But these are the questions you unconsciously ask yourself after conversations with your, now very distant, relatives. One intercepted call that terrified me was of a Ukrainian woman calling her male relative, a militant of the so-called DNR, whose unit then/is still stationed in Kherson region.
W: You explained to me about Banderites, I believed you. I hated them. Now, who should I hate? … Why are they like this, Seryozha? What are they raping children for? What is this?
M: Who told you? Do you know this for sure? Or are these just rumors?
W: I know for sure. *crying* I’m not telling anything more.
You can most certainly feel despair in her voice, when the man questions the REALITY of her experience. This conversation is emblematic of conversations Ukrainians have with their RU relatives. Any appeals to reason are met with ready-made answers (NATO, nazis, biolabs), facts are met with “fakes!” and emotions with “understanding and love”. After all they consider us their brothers…at least used to.
Ukrainians and russians are not brothers. For centuries Ukraine has been under Moscow’s rule. In Soviet times, especially, all things Ukrainian were persecuted. Horrible atrocities were committed to bring (not only) Ukrainian population under control — Holodomor, Dekulakization, Executed Renaissance. Those who weren’t killed, were sent to Siberia, spared lived under constant threat of being next.
Using wrong words or criticizing the official line was unacceptable. Despite that, there was freedom of speech in the Soviet Union, but no freedom after speech. Snitching on one’s neighbor was prevalent, so people learned to keep to themselves and live in silence. Now, in putinist russia narratives of decaying West, strong and mighty russia and of foreign agents reiterate those of Soviet era. And snitching is coming back.
Fear of punishment is not the only factor preventing relatives in russia from speaking out and protesting. Understanding that nothing is going to change, I-am-just-a-small-person mentality are also on the list. But the main reason is hands down — russian propaganda.
In a carefully constructed putinist worldview there is no room for logic and reason. It’s a constant stream of repetitive, often contradictory narratives, multiplied and spread in big volumes. This propaganda boils down to 2 things. 1st is that without putin russia can’t do. And 2nd — all the rest are wretched and corrupt (especially the West and America). The later is best exemplified in Navalny’s investigation of International Sawmill show (HERE, first 10 mins, has funny captions), where foreign leaders are made fun of and putin is the boss. All other things russian propaganda can sell to its audience. Look no further then “the gesture of goodwill” by russian army from Snake Island and negative emersion of Moskva flagship. Blasting people with conspiracy theories and half-baked news, at a rate they can’t keep up with, earned it a name — Firehose of Falsehood. And not only russians are susceptible to it.
Many Ukrainians also fell victims to the propaganda and still believe in what it spews. One close friend of mine recounts conversations with their relatives who, after 24th of February, stayed in Kharkiv, in the city’s most shelled area — Northern Saltivka. There, under constant shelling, they continued to believe in the brave new russian world.
Like any functioning society Ukraine has issues and problems. There are people who don’t need propaganda to be anti-ua and pro-ru and they have their reasons. Again, Ukraine has many problems we, Ukrainians, must solve. Nazis and rusophobia — two main justifications for full-scale war on Ukraine — are not them. Those who say otherwise are delusional, they’ve lost touch with reality and play into the hands of invaders. Of course, there are people who take a more radical stance on issues, just like everywhere in the world, but they are a minuscule minority, who have little to no effect on the country’s agenda. If you have a relative or a colleague who believes in persecution of all things russian before 2014, ask them why has russia invaded and razed to the ground the most pro-russian regions and cities? Plant the seed of doubt in their infertile soil.
In the 50 years that my grandma has been in Ukraine no one has said a word about her nationality (кацапка), her mother tongue, no one forced her to learn and speak Ukrainian. Yet, this is what our relatives in russia and some simple-minded compatriots are led to believe.
Grandma is 71 now. Sitting on her armchair in the empty living room, she turns on TV to watch russian channels — old habits die hard. She still carries her cellphone in case THEY call, although she admits there is nothing to talk about anymore. On the table next to the remote there is a crossword magazine in Ukrainian — it’s hard, but she is trying. She is russian, was and will be, but above all things, she wants her grandchildren to be Ukrainian. To live in a free and peaceful country, to find their way, to marry (soon, grandma) and lead a fulfilling life.
2 months into the war she, whose mother tongue is russian, who never learned Ukrainian, who was never forced to learn it and forget russian, wished me a happy birthday in Nightingalian*.
*Ukrainians refer to Ukrainian as Nightingalian (Солов’їна)