The Birch 2020 by The Birch Journal

The Birch

Columbia University 2020 Pskov, Russia Mya Zemlock

Dear Readers of The Birch,

We are excited to present our 2020 issue of The Birch! While this year has presented new challenges for all of us, we are proud of all the hard work that has been put into the journal over the last year. As interest in in Eastern Europe and Euarasia continues to grow, we hope that the pieces in the journal will provide readers with a deeper understanding of the cultural and political issues pertaining to the region. The analytical pieces we included this year explore a variety of issues representing a range of different interests and perspectives. In this edition of The Birch, we hope to showcase a variety of different interests from a diverse group of undergraduates. As the world continues to change around us, we hope that The Birch provides a light into the world of Eastern Europe and Eurasia, reminding everyone of the importance of connectivity and partnership in the globalized world in which we live. We would like to take a moment to thank our all of our editors, contributors, collaborators, and readers. We hope you enjoy this issue of The Birch! Anya Konstantinovsky and Katherine Malus

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About The Birch Founded in 2004, The Birch Journal is the first national undergraduate publication devoted exclusively to Slavic, East European, and Eurasian studies. Any undergraduate student at any college or university is welcome to submit work to be published in our issues, featured both online and in print. We accept creative writing (poetry, prose, creative nonfiction, short stories), literary criticism (essays and book reviews), and essays on the culture and politics of the region. You can find more information about The Birch online on our Facebook page, webstire (thebirchjournal.org), and emailing us at thebirchjournal@gmail.com.

Our Staff

Editors-in-Chief

Anya Konstantinovsky and Katherine Malus

Treasurer

Peter Maroulis

Secretary

Sasha Starovoitov

Editors

Sophie Bryant, Austin Dean, Sophia Gates, Diana Glebova, Wanzhen Jun, Greta Schatz, Jiashi Yang

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Politics and Society

Motherland Monument , Kiev, Ukraine Henry Woelflein

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At the time of Shavkat Mirziyoyev’s ascension to the presidency of Uzbekistan in December of 2016, numerous observers speculated that his rule would be a continuation of Karimov-era policies. Although some tenets of those policies have remained, Mirziyoyev has demonstrated a willingness to amend the political and economic position of Uzbekistan.1 Since coming to power in September 2016, Mirziyoyev has launched a series of reforms that target foreign policy, public administration, the judicial system, social policies, and economic development.2 Although these reforms will take years to fully bear fruit, this paper will explore Uzbekistan’s observable pivot in foreign policy towards the other Central Asian Republics and outside powers. Uzbekistan is reemerging on the world stage at a time of great power competition in Central Asia. Contemporary regional and global dy1 Richard Weitz, “Uzbekistan’s New Foreign Policy: Change and Continuity under New Leadership,” Silk Road Papers (Central Asia-Caucasus Institute & Silk Road Studies Program, 2018): 41; Timur Dadabaev, “Uzbekistan as Central Asian Game Changer? Uzbekistan’s Foreign Policy Construction in the Post-Karimov Era,” Asian Journal of Comparative Politics 4, no. 2 (June 1, 2019): 163; Mamuka Tsereteli, “The Economic Modernization of Uzbekistan,” Silk Road Paper (Lithuania: Central Asia-Caucasus Institute & Silk Road Studies Program, 2018), 7. . 2 Shavkat Mirziyoyev became interim president of Uzbekistan on 8 September 2016 following the death of former president Islam Karimov. Mirziyoyev was elected president in December 2016 with 88.6% of the vote in an election the fell “well short of democratic norms,” according to OSCE observation teams; “Uzbekistan’s Development Strategy for 2017-2021 Has Been Adopted Following Public Consultation,” The Tashkent Times, February 8, 2017.

namics offer lucrative incentives for closer economic and political relations with neighbors and other nations. Therefore, while some of Uzbekistan’s reintegration into regional and international economic networks may be motivated by internal demand for reform or Mirziyoyev’s personal interest in warmer relations, the noticeable change in Uzbekistan’s foreign policy is exacerbated, if not driven, by larger global and regional trends. Relations with Central Asian Neighbors Since becoming president in 2016, Shavkat Mirziyoyev has significantly recalibrated Uzbekistan’s foreign policy. While there has been increased cooperation with all partners, one of Mirziyoyev’s biggest departures from Karimov’s policies has been his pursuit of amicable relations with Uzbekistan’s Central Asian neighbors. Under Karimov, Uzbekistan’s foreign policy was characterized by a suspicion of multilateral organizations, economic and political self-reliance, rejection of foreign expansionist ideologies, and an aggressive tone in the international sphere.3 While Karimov’s suspicion and aggression extended to all parties, neighboring Central Asian countries were 3 Bernardo Teles Fazendeiro, “Uzbekistan’s Defensive Self-Reliance: Karimov’s Foreign Policy Legacy,” International Affairs 93, no. 2 (March 1, 2017): 410.

most affected by Uzbekistan’s unwillingness to cooperate. In contrast, Mirziyoyev has stated that Central Asia is the main priority of his foreign policy goals for Uzbekistan and has taken concrete steps to repair and strengthen relations with the other four Central Asian republics. He has made it clear that he sees regional cooperation and integration as a key component for regional economic growth and stability, and has pursued deeper cooperation on a host of economic, energy, and cultural issues.4 Though ties between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan have been among Uzbekistan’s less contentious bilateral relations, Mirziyoyev has nonetheless sought to increase cooperation between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. Kazakhstan, which experienced impressive economic growth in the early 2000s and pushed for regional cooperation in the years following its independence, has jostled with Uzbekistan for the position of most influential state in Central Asia. Since Miziyoyev’s ascension to the presidency, there has been a marked increase in dialogue and the pursuit of joint projects with Kazakhstan.5 These discussions have focused largely on integrating the two largest economies in Central Asia by reducing policies that impede trade.6 In 2017, Uzbekistan increased its trade volume with Kazakhstan by 11 percent, and reopened the M-39 highway that connects it with Kazakhstan.7 Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan have discussed plans for creating a common visa regime, constructing a high-speed rail connecting 4 Iskander Zakirov and Yuliya Nevskaya, “Uzbekistan’s New Foreign Policy Doctrine,” The Central Asia-Caucasus Analyst, September 18, 2017. 5 Zakirov and Nevskaya. 6 Weitz, 32. 7 Zakirov and Nevskaya.

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the countries, and allowing one another’s national airlines to operate in one another’s country to attract tourists and facilitate cross-border business.8 Turkmenistan has maintained amicable relations with Uzbekistan following the death of Saparmurat Niyazov, the former leader of Turkmenistan, in 2006.9 However, as with Kazakhstan, Mirziyoyev’s administration has worked to further strengthen these ties. In the first quarter of 2018, year-on-year trade volume saw a 55 percent increase.10 Additionally, Mirziyoyev’s first trip abroad as president was to Turkmenistan, where he engaged leaders there on the possibility of cooperation in the fields of energy, security, and transportation.11 Several proposed projects between Tashkent and Ashgabat would further integrate Uzbekistan into larger regional energy and transportation networks. Projects such as the Turkmenistan-Uzbekistan-Tajikistan-Afghanistan-Pakistan (TUTAP) energy project and the proposed motor and rail link between Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Iran and Oman would provide further energy and economic integration that extend beyond the traditional bounds of Central Asia.12 The most marked difference in comparison to the Karimov era has been a change in relations with Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan. Tense relations between Uzbekistan and its neighbors in the Ferghana Valley have resulted from disagreements over water resources, border disputes, 8 Adam Saud, “Changing Dynamics of Uzbekistan’s Foreign Policy under Shavkat Mirziyoyev: Prospects for Central Asian Regional Economic Integration,” Central Asia Journal, no. 82 (2018), 15. 9 Alexander Kim, “Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan: Can Common Interests Push Old Quarrels Aside?,” Jamestown, October 23, 2013. 10 Saud, 14. 11 Dadabaev, 168. 12 Weitz, 38; Dadabaev, 168

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transnational threats, and ethnic violence. Domestic upheaval in Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan’s choice to close down 12 of 15 border crossings with Kyrgyzstan in 2010 have further worsened already chilly relations.13 Uzbekistan’s relationship with Tajikistan has been more or less frozen for nearly 20 years.14 Since assuming office in 2016, Mirziyoyev has signaled that he is open to discussion of compromise in a number of areas of regional policy that would have been non-starters in the Karimov period. In regard to water resources, Mirziyoyev has backed off earlier aggressive stances on up-stream dam projects. The administration indicated that it would no longer oppose the Rogun dam in Tajikistan outright, but wanted to ensure that its downstream interests would be considered.15 This provides a stark contrast to Karimov’s threats of war surrounding Rogun. Additionally, Mirziyoyev has indicated that he would be willing to consider building the Kambar-Ata dam project jointly with Kyrgyzstan, and in September Uzbekistan concluded a peaceful land exchange with Kyrgyzstan that included the Kerkidan reservoir.16 One of Mirziyoyev’s main objectives in the region following his election was addressing demarcation issues on Uzbekistan’s borders that have remained unresolved since 1991. In September of 2017, Mirziyoyev, along with former presi13 Cholpon Orozobekova, “An Absence of Diplomacy: The Kyrgyz-Uzbek Border Dispute,” The Diplomat, April 1, 2016; “Thousands Attend Reopening Of Major Checkpoint Along Kyrgyz-Uzbek Border,” RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, September 6, 2017. 14 Weitz, 38. 15 Weitz, 44. 16 Bruce Pannier, “Oil, Water Mix To Improve Central Asian Relations,” RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, March 1, 2019; Nurjamal Djanibekova, “Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan Exchange Land in Historic Settlement,” Eurasianet, September 12, 2019.

dent of Kyrgyzstan Almazbek Atambayev, signed an agreement that demarcated 1,171 kilometers, or roughly 85 percent, of the border between Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan.17 Despite this progress, territory around respective enclaves in Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan will likely remain more contentious. Mirziyoyev has initiated exchanges between local Kyrgyz and Uzbek communities in the Ferghana Valley to begin to address the history of inter-ethnic conflict in the region and pave the way for further future cooperation.18 Uzbekistan has opened its formerly closed borders with Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan and trade with its Central Asian neighbors has grown substantially. For example, for the first half of 2017, Uzbekistan’s trade volume with Kyrgyzstan grew by 69 percent relative to the same period of the previous year, while trade with Tajikistan grew by 22 percent.19 Uzbekistan has also reinitiated discussions of cooperation and joint projects in energy and transportation. Tajikistan and Uzbekistan agreed to cooperate on providing one another with energy during shortage seasons, as well as provide energy to one another’s remote regions.20 Talks about railroad connections that would link Uzbekistan with China through southern Kyrgyzstan have also apparently resumed.21 Other indicators such as reestablished flights from Dushanbe to Bukhara, and numerous state visits with Central Asian leaders add to the sense that Uzbekistan is ready and willing 17 “Atambaev Signs Law On Kyrgyz-Uzbek Border,” RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, October 2, 2017. 18 Dadabaev, 168. 19 Zakirov and Nevskaya. 20 “Tajikistan and Uzbekistan Learn to Be Friends Again,” Eurasianet, accessed January 8, 2020; Saud, 17. 21 Saud, 18.

to play a larger role in the region.22 Reengaging Global Partners There has also been a distinct difference in how Mirziyoyev engages with outside powers in comparison with the Karimov era. Since independence, Uzbekistan has pursued economic and political detachment from any powerful center.23 This policy sought to extract the maximum benefits for Uzbekistan while maintaining its political and economic independence.24 Karimov, weary of a strong Russian presence in Central Asia, often looked to China and the United States to balance Russian influence.25 This balancing of partners has continued, though Uzbekistan under Mirziyoyev is pursuing stronger relations with numerous outside powers. Since coming to power in 2016, Mirziyoyev has reengaged Russia on a range of issues. Miziyoyev’s third trip abroad was to Russia in April 2017, during which Vladimir Putin, the Russian president, and Mirziyoyev signed investment agreements and trade contracts and discussed labor migration from Uzbekistan to Russia.26 Russia is Uzbekistan’s second largest trading partner, trailing only China; its trade turnover with Uzbekistan grew by 30 percent in 2017 and 21 percent 2018, largely due to Russia’s openness to Uzbekistan’s agricultural products.27 During Putin’s 2018 visit, Uzbekistan and Russia 22 “Flights Between Dushanbe, Bukhara Resume Amid Improving Tajik-Uzbek Ties,” RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, August 6, 2018. 23 Fazendeiro, 411. 24 Fazendeiro, 411. 25 Edward Lemon, “Mirziyoyev’s Uzbekistan: Democratization or Authoritarian Upgrading?,” Foreign Policy Research Institute, June 2019, 12. 26 Dadabaev, 170. 27 Umida Hashimova, “After Putin’s Visit, Russia’s Footprint in Uzbekistan Is Set to Grow,” Jamestown, October 22, 2018; Lemon, 13.

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inked more than $27 billion in commercial deals.28 In October of 2019, rumors circulated that Uzbekistan would finally be joining the Moscow-led Eurasian Economic Union.29 Membership in the EEU could further boost agricultural trade with Russia, though joining would reduce Uzbekistan’s ability to pursue trade liberalization with partners outside the block.30 Even without joining the EEU, Russian investment will likely continue to increase as Russia seeks to build economic ties in addition to security cooperation. In April 2018, Uzbekistan and Russia signed an agreement that expanded technological and military cooperation.31 In 2016 Uzbekistan began receiving arms from Russia at discounted prices; a significant number of Uzbekistan’s military personnel receive training at Russian facilities.32 In 2017, Russia and Uzbekistan resumed joint military exercises after a 12-year hiatus.33 Moscow has taken advantage of Tashkent’s new-found openness to Russia, and signaled its interest in continued partnerships in the fields of energy, security, and economic development. The state making the largest inroads into Uzbekistan and Central Asia, however, is China, not Russia. Though relations between Tashkent and Beijing under Karimov were more consistent than those with Washington or Moscow, relations have become increasingly warm since 2016. Relations between China and 28 Hashimova, “Putin’s Visit.” 29 Kanat Shaku, “Uzbekistan Has Decided to Join EEU Says Russian Official,” bne Intellinews, October 3, 2019. 30 Sam Bhutia, “Can Uzbekistan Gain from EAEU Membership?,” Eurasianet, January 10, 2020. 31 “Uzbekistan and Russia: Chilly Weather, Warm Relations,” Eurasianet, October 17, 2018. 32 “Uzbekistan and Russia.” 33 Hashimova, “Putin’s Visit.”

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Uzbekistan tend to be more focused on the realm of economic cooperation and development than on the security issues that characterize Uzbekistan’s relations with Russia. China became Uzbekistan’s largest trading partner for the first time in 2018 with a trade turnover of more than $6 billion last year.34 China has pledged to increase agricultural imports from Uzbekistan. At the same time, domestic economic growth has resulted in Uzbekistan importing significant amounts of machinery and technology from China.35 Under Mirziyoyev, Uzbekistan has signed agreements for domestic infrastructure and energy projects as well as for regional integration projects as it takes a more active role in China’s Belt and Road Intiative (BRI).36 Uzbekistan’s relative isolation under Karimov left the country largely unbanked, underleveraged, and under-financed.37 This creates a unique opportunity for international investors that are willing to experiment with frontier markets. Beijing has shown a willingness to lend money to high-risk, developing nations and will likely become an increasingly important source of credit for Uzbekistan. The United States’ engagement with Uzbekistan since independence has been rockier than either Russia’s or China’s. While relations were cooperative in the early 2000s, US criticism of the human rights violations of the Andijan massacre in 2005 spurred the eviction of US personnel from its military base in Karshi-Khanabad (K2).38 Although relations 34 Lemon, 12. 35 Dadabaev, 171. 36 Umida Hashimova, “Uzbekistan Increasingly Turns to China for Development Loans,” Jamestown, September 4, 2019. 37 Rainer Michael Preiss, “Uzbekistan Is The Hidden Gem In China’s New Silk Road,” Forbes, September 9, 2019. 38 Lemon, 12.

did thaw slightly, it was not until Mirziyoyev’s presidency that relations received a full reset. Uzbekistan’s relations with the United States have been largely linked to US military intervention in Afghanistan and cooperation on counterterrorism and non-proliferation measures. However, domestic economic reforms in Uzbekistan create a larger opportunity for closer cooperation in the economic sphere.39 Mirziyoyev has made his willingness to work with US investors known, and has invited several American NGOs, such as American Councils, back into Uzbekistan.40 In February 2020, the US Department of State announced its new Central Asia strategy, which will undertake deeper collaboration with the five Central Asian republics and Afghanistan on a host of political, economic, and security issues as the United States seeks to address Russian and Chinese influence in the region.41 Uzbekistan, having both a large population and untapped economic potential, will be a key component to the success or failure of US policy in the region. In addition to potential investment, the US engagement with Uzbekistan provides another balance against Russian influence as Uzbekistan continues its policy of nonalignment with political blocks. Reforming the Uzbek Economy Many of Mirziyoyev’s reforms, including the reworking of foreign policy, have a strong economic focus. Recent changes in Uzbekistan’s foreign policy and domestic economic reforms represent concrete steps towards Uzbekistan’s 39 Weitz, 44. 40 Catherine Putz, “What an NGO’s Return Says About Post-Karimov US-Uzbekistan Relations,” The Diplomat, August 30, 2018. 41 “United States Strategy for Central Asia 2019-2025: Advancing Sovereignty and Economic Prosperity,” United States Department of State (blog), February 5, 2020.

reintegration into the global economic sphere. In the first quarter of 2019, yearon-year GDP growth was 5.3 percent, with 6 percent GDP growth projected for 2021.42 Uzbekistan’s regionally centered foreign policy and deeper engagement with global partners have been important contributors to higher trade turnover and an increased international interest in investing in Uzbekistan. At the same time, Mirziyoyev’s domestic economic reforms have reduced barriers and restrictions that discouraged international investors in the past. In 2017, the Central Bank of Uzbekistan (CBU) enacted policies to make Uzbekistan’s currency, the soum, fully convertible, thus unifying the exchange rate.43 In 2019, the CBU removed caps on citizens ability to buy foreign currency and moved from a pegged to a flexible exchange rate.44 In July 2017, Mirziyoyev signed a presidential decree on taxation reforms, which was followed by a series of legislative amendments and decrees that reorganized taxation, eased tax burden on businesses, and introduced a monitoring system.45 Other legislation has reduced customs’ duties and eliminated restrictions on trade.46 While other policies have targeted administrative, electoral, and judicial reforms, the results of these reforms will only be clear in the long term. The results of Mirziyoyev’s economic reforms, on the other hand, are more immediate. Currency and customs reforms expedite Uzbekistan’s reintegration into economic networks by easing barriers for trade and 42 “Uzbekistan: Toward a New, More Open Economy,” World Bank, accessed January 16, 2020. 43 Kenneth Rapoza, “Eurasia’s Latest Economic Reboot Can Be Found in Uzbekistan,” Forbes, September 14, 2017. 44 “Tashkent Moves To Floating Exchange Rate For Uzbek Currency,” RadioFreeEurope/RadioLiberty, August 20, 2019. 45 Tsereteli, 26. 46 Tsereteli, 25.

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investment. Efforts to ease tensions, increase exports, reduce trade barriers, and increase capital inflows have propelled Uzbekistan’s economy forward in the past few years. This growth is magnified by the economic and political competition occurring in Eurasia. The efforts of China, Russia, and the United States to integrate Uzbekistan and its neighbors into their visions of Eurasia have profound impacts on the region as they commit huge amounts of resources to realizing these visions. Had Uzbekistan reset its foreign policy and enacted domestic reforms 10 or 15 years ago, the reaction of the international community would have been comparatively muted. As Mamuka Tsereteli said in her paper on Uzbekistan’s economic modernization, “the change in Uzbekistan’s presidency coincided with a novel window of opportunity.”47 This window of opportunity exists both for Uzbekistan and global partners. Uzbekistan’s opening up at this particular moment gives it access to funding and resources that are pouring into Central Asia. At the same time, Uzbekistan’s economic liberalization and warming relations with neighbors makes it ripe for participation in transregional infrastructure, energy, and investment initiatives. Conclusion: An Age of Eurasian Opportunity It would have been hard to imagine in the late 1990s or early 2000s that Uzbekistan would be the Economist’s 2019 Country of the Year, and an up-and-coming travel destination48 Yet 47 Tsereteli, 50. 48 Aidana Yergaliyeva, “Lonely Planet Names Central Asia 2020’s Best Travel Region,” The Astana Times, January 10, 2020; “The Economist’s Country of the Year - Which Nation Improved the

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Central Asia has become a critical region for the foreign policies of the European Union, the United States, Turkey, Russia and China alike as each seeks to expand its influence or check that of other states. This jostling for economic and political superiority has had a profound impact on Central Asia as international players are willing to commit increasingly large sums of money and diplomatic capital to create and maintain influence in the region. With a growing number of powers interested in trade, investment, and security cooperation in Central Asia, the benefits of integration into global and regional networks are higher now than at any other time since independence. Central Asian leaders have been quite adept at leveraging the interests of outside powers to derive the greatest aggregate rents. Uzbekistan is the newest participant in a game that has been played in Central Asia for more than a decade. Many proposed projects require regional cooperation; adopting more congenial relationships with the other Central Asian republics increases the ability to negotiate on regional energy, security, and environmental issues. Stronger regional ties also facilitate Uzbekistan’s participation in larger initiatives. The US Central Asia strategy focuses on integrating Afghanistan with regional partners to create greater economic and political stability, requiring regional leaders to tackle bilateral issues to benefit from regional programs.49 China’s goal of making Central Asia a transit and logistics hub for Most in 2019?,” The Economist, December 21, 2019. 49 James McBride, “Building the New Silk Road,” Council on Foreign Relations, May 22, 2015; “United States Strategy for Central Asia 2019-2025: Advancing Sovereignty and Economic Prosperity,” United States Department of State (blog), February 5, 2020.

BRI requires regional integration that at times was incompatible with Karimov’s aggressive foreign policy stance. Warmer regional relations are necessary for ensuring that Uzbekistan receives a slice of the trillion dollars of the pledged BRI investments. Russia’s Eurasian Economic Union, which emphasizes the free movement of labor, goods, capital, and services, is less attractive when bilateral disputes disrupt these flows. Uzbekistan’s foreign policy under Mirziyoyev contrasts sharply with many of the foreign policy decisions under Karimov. Mirziyoyev’s multi-vectoral foreign policy is characterized by the deepening of ties with all partners rather than the blanket suspicion of other states that defined Karimov’s foreign policy and worldview. While Karimov isolated Uzbekistan, Shavkat Mirziyoyev has embraced a more conciliatory foreign and domestic policy that will deeply integrate the country into regional and global economic networks.50 Some scholars have attributed this profound shift to a liberalization of Uzbekistan’s domestic politics that has spawned a more conciliatory foreign policy and more open reforms domestically; this understanding of the drastic changes in Uzbekistan ignores the complex economic and political shifts occurring in Eurasia that create an ideal environment for Uzbekistan’s reemergence. The shifts in Mirziyoyev’s foreign policy, if not all of his reforms, are motivated by an economic opportunism provided by a unique moment in international relations. To date, Mirziyoyev’s commitment to good-neighborliness and economic and 50 Fazendeiro, 412.

political liberalization remains largely untested. Were regional dynamics to change, and incentives for further reform to disappear, Mirziyoyevâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s reforming spirit might as well. The true extent of Mirziyoyevâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s departure from Uzbekistanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s past policy will become evident only as he confronts more complicated reforms and challenging foreign policy environments that lack immediate payoffs.

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Introduction This paper examines the concept of honor as a reason for the defeat of the White Army in the Russian Civil War, with a focus on General Anton Ivanovich Denikin, commander of the Volunteer Army (19181920). As a result of the October Revolution (1917), when the Bolsheviks declared themselves the government of Russia, a Civil War broke out and lasted until 1922. The main belligerents were the Red Army (the Bolsheviks) and the White Army, led by Admiral Alexander Vasilyevich Kolchak in Siberia, General Nikolai Nikolayevich Yudenich in the Northwest, and General Anton Ivanovich Denikin in the South. The first section of this paper outlines the role of honor in the White Army by establishing the origins of honor in the White Army and its significance in understanding the White Officer mentality. The second section examines the role of honor in terms of why the Volunteer Army, commanded by Denikin, failed to defend Southern Russia against the Red Army. I argue that Denikin’s reliance on honor prevented the Volunteer Army from defeating the Red Army in South Russia. Honor inhibited him from understanding how to gain popular support in the North Caucasus, limited his

ability to fight the Red Army, and impaired his ability to control his troops. Honor in the White Army The White Army was commanded by former tsarist officers, leading to the perpetuation of old military traditions. These traditions resulted in an inflexible understanding of the rules of engagement and prevented them from adapting to the conditions of the Civil War. The White Army, including Denikin’s Volunteer Army, was based on the traditions of the Russian Imperial Army; The Army operated based on the 1874 military reforms, which occurred during the reign of Tsar Alexander II.1 In addition to creating an army based on conscription, this military structure emphasized the concept of “honor as precedence,” which is understood as gaining and maintaining status. Defending one’s honor is of prime importance.2 “Honour is therefore a spur to action. Without a sense of honour one is far more likely to be passive in the face of insults” as not responding to an insult acknowledges it as true.3 “‘Honour as precedent’ is an essentially self-serving concept when applied to indi1 Peter Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918: The First Year of the Volunteer Army (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971), 14. 2 Paul F. Robinson, “‘Always with Honour’: The Code of the White Russian Officers,” Canadian Slavonic Papers / Revue Canadienne Des Slavistes 41, no. 2 (1999), 124. 3 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 125.

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viduals, when applied instead to a collective group it is capable of inspiring men to self-sacrifice on behalf of others.”4 Since this concept had previously been true, there was little reason to assume it would be different during the Civil War. “A nation, an army, and a regiment all posses honour… soldiers are indoctrinated with the need to defend the collective honour of their regiment, army or nation in the hope that they will be willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater glory.”5 However, after the Russian Empire collapsed, the soldiers lost that bond to their country. The honor of the White Army was tied to the honor of pre-revolutionary Russia, and thus they had to be committed to sacrificing themselves for their, now non-existent, country. Additionally, Paul Robinson argued that honor was a double-edged sword for the White Army. On the one hand, it motivated the officers to fight. On the other hand, it prevented them from winning as they became absorbed by this concept.6 The structure of the Imperial Army, the basis for the White Army, maintained a hierarchy of honor that heavily favored officers over enlisted soldiers While the majority of officers and enlisted soldiers came from a peasant background, the rigid nature of the army caused them to share little in common. Officers were considered intellectuals despite lacking formal, non-military education and addressed their soldiers informally.7 The fact they did not mutually address each other formally or informally denoted a hierarchy within the military where the officers were socially superior to the enlisted. “The officers constantly 4 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 125. 5 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 125. 6 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 141. 7 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918, 15.

humiliated their inferiors.”8 However, this did not contradict the tenants of honors as it was only dishonorable to treat those who were equals poorly. Treating inferiors poorly did not damage honor as the inferiors were considered not worthy of being treated honorably. This is the result of the concept coming from medieval times where knights were only obligated to behave honorably among their own but did not have to follow the rules of chivalry when fighting non-knights.9 This harsh class distinction contributed to officers having a deeper conceptual understanding of honor than enlisted troops. The tenets of honor required the White Army to act in a certain way, which seemed counterintuitive in the context of the Civil War. For example, they could not make empty promises that would likely gain them popular support as that was not honorable and would discredit their victory.10 On the other hand, the Bolsheviks were quick to promise “peace, land, and bread” as these solved the major issues that caused the February Revolution. Because the Bolsheviks were not bound by honor, they were able to make promises they could not guarantee they could follow through in effort support during the Civil War.11 Another example is that White Officers practiced self-sacrifice to the extent of knowingly going to their death in the name of Russia. Self-sacrifice was a crucial aspect of the White Officer mentality. They were, first and foremost, soldiers, and there was no higher calling than to die in the service to their country. General Dukhonin is quoted by Denikin saying, “I had and have thousands of 8 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918, 15. 9 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 133. 10 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 140. 11 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 140.

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opportunities to hide. But I will not do that. I know that Kpylenko will arrest me, and maybe, also execute me. But this is a soldier’s death.”12 Dukhonin was executed.13 Denikin, and many White Officers, believed that “if at that tragic moment of our history there had not been among the Russian people individuals ready to rise up against the madness and crime of Bolshevik power and to offer their blood and lives for the motherland which was being destroyed - then it would have not been a people.”14 This dedication to Russia shown by the White Officers was not seen within the enlisted ranks. As such, their dependence on honor further separated them from their troops and contributed to their loss in the Civil War. Limitations of Honor in the Volunteer Army under Denikin, 1918 - 1920 Denikin’s insistence on maintaining the tradition of honor in warfare (as outlined in the previous section) set the tone for the Volunteer Army’s military tactics. This section examines how honor limited, and at times completely prevented, the efficiency of the army. Specific attention is paid to how honor impacted the relationship to the people, the army’s tactics, and unity within the army. Popular Support Denikin’s understanding of honor left him removed from the actual situation in Russia, making it difficult for him to gain popular support. The people tended to value concrete concepts like economic stability, something Imperial Russia lacked, over the abstract and outdated concept 12 A. I. Denikin, “Bol’shevistskii perevorot,” in Ocherki russkoy sumty, (Paris: Povolotskii), found in, Oktyabp’skaya revolyutsiya, Revolyutsiya i grazhd. voine v opisaniyakh belogvardeitsev, edited by S. A. Alekseev (Moscow and Leningrad: Gosudarstvennoye izdatel’ctvo, 1926), 284. 13 Denikin, “Bol’shevistskii perevorot,” 284. 14 Evan Mawdsley, The Russian Civil War (Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1987), 21.

of honor. In his memoirs, Denikin stated that the abdication of Tsar Nikolas II was the inevitable outcome of Russia’s internal political situation. He argued that there was no animosity toward the tsar and that “everyone was interested in their fate and feared for it.”15 It is apparent Denikin was shaken by the abdication of the tsar as he questioned if they would still sing the hymn “spasi, gospodi, liudi tvoia.”16 For the most part, Denikin’s understanding of the Russian mentality is incorrect; the February Revolution, the revolution that caused the abdication of the tsar, started with angry peasants. Several days later, the tsar’s army joined in and the tsar abdicated shortly after realizing he could not quell the uprising. Denikin’s assessment of the events that took place suggests he held an unbreakable loyalty to the tsar, believing it was the conditions rather than the tsar’s incompetence that led to his downfall. For the most part, by 1917, people attributed the political situation directly to the tsar and his failure to lead Russia. Aside from being out of touch with the people’s interests and misunderstanding their motivations for the February Revolution, Denikin lacked a clear goal beyond restoring Russia’s honor. This lack of a goal made it difficult to attract support as fighting “for Russia” did not appeal to the average Russian.17 The people were more concerned about improving their immediate situation rather than fighting for the abstract goal of defending ‘Russia’s honor.’ By 1918, the Russian economy was on the verge of collapse largely in part due to the First World War and Tsar Nikolas

15 A. I. Denikin, “Fevral’skaya revolyutsiya i armiya,” in Ocherki russkoi sumty, (Paris: Povolotskii), found in, Fevral’skaya revolyutsiya, Revolyutsiya i grazhd. voine v opisaniyakh belogvardeitsev, edited by S. A. Alekseev (Moscow and Leningrad: Gosudarstvennoye izdatel’ctvo, 1926), 196. 16 Denikin, “Fevral’skaya revolyutsiya i armiya,” 197. 17 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918, 219.

II’s failures in controlling the domestic situation. As a result, “the simple truths of God, Freedom, and Country that seemed so self-evident to Denikin were not so to others.”18 He believed that fighting for one’s country and one’s religion would be enough to gain support to ensure victory. In his eyes, the Bolsheviks were traitors who dishonored Russia, so the only honorable thing to do was to fight them. The disconnect in goals between the people and the White Army was ultimately the result of the White Army’s reliance on honor and old traditions which made it impossible for them to fully gain the necessary support to win the Civil War. It was apparent that the White Army’s objective was fairly incompatible with the people as they did not understand it. Besides being too abstract, Denikin’s objective of a united Russia contradicted the independence movements in the North Caucasus, which further pushed popular support away from the Volunteer Army. These nationalities saw the February Revolution, and the abdication of the tsar, as an opportunity to overthrow “colonial rule” and fought against both the Red Army and the White Army during the Civil War to defend their newly found independence.19 Denikin incorrectly assumed that being anti-Bolshevik was synonymous with being for a united Russia. While Denikin asserted that Georgia would not have been occupied by the Red Army if they had allied with the Volunteer Army, Georgia did not believe in the need for a united Russia. 20 Denikin’s assertion may have been true, it did not address Georgia’s desires for independence 18 W. Bruce Lincoln, Red Victory: A History of the Russian Civil War (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1989), 205. 19 Marie Bennigsen Broxup, “The Russian Experience with Muslim Insurgencies: From the North Caucasus in the 19th Century to Afghanistan and Back to the Caucasus,” in Volatile Borderland: Russia and North Caucasus, edited by Glen E. Howard (Washington, DC: Jamestown Foundation, 2012), 95. 20 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918, 219.

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from Russia. At the time, not siding with the Volunteer Army, who was clear in their desire for a united Russia, gave them an opportunity for independent statehood. Furthermore, Denikin’s attempt at a united Russia was viewed in the North Caucasus as the restoration of tsardom. In many cases, it drove nationalities in the North Caucasus toward supporting the Red Army more so than with the White Army, as they strongly opposed tsarist rule.21 These countries recognized they would have a better chance at independence under the Bolsheviks as it was a new government and it was unclear how much influence they could exert in the region. Struggle Against the Red Army Honor turned out to be a double-edged sword for Denikin, as it justified his actions while constraining them to a point that rendered them ineffective in fighting the Red Army. In order to be considered honorable, his struggle against the Red Army had to be a defensive action, limiting how the Volunteer Army could fight. This limitation ultimately contributed to the White defeat in South Russia and the Caucasus. This necessity for organizing military action as a defensive strategy caused Denikin to make questionable strategic choices. Historians, such as N. E. Kakurin, have debated whether or not a different, more aggressive strategy would have led to a more favorable outcome.22 One such example in which honor had a drastic impact on the outcome of military action was the Moscow 21 Charles King, The Ghost of Freedom: A History of the Caucasus (Oxford ; New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 171. 22 Mawdsley, The Russian Civil War, 207.

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Directive, in which Denikin aimed to create an approximately 800-mile front, which they had previously failed to do during the First World War. If successful, this action would restore honor to Russia by showing the world its military strength. After taking Tsaritsyn (Volgograd), Denikin turned his attention toward attacking Moscow and he believed victory was in sight.23 Capturing Moscow, and defeating the Bolshevik government, would have restored Russia’s honor in Denikin’s opinion. That being said, other White Army Generals disagreed on his tactics, stating the Moscow directive was a “death sentence.”24 However, with respect to honor, the plausibility of victory is less important than defending one’s honor. While his plan was honorable, the concept of honor also prevented it from succeeding. Denikin could not provide an alternative solution to Bolshevism due to the fact he was unable to make empty promises.25 “‘They [The White Army] kept saying that it was terrible under the Bolsheviks … but they never made clear what precisely what political and social structure they proposed to set up in place of the Soviet one.’”26 Denikin understood the Civil War as being above politics, which prevented him from aligning with a political party. In not announcing a political position, he allowed the Bolsheviks to explain the White position, which, of course, created a negative image of the White Army.27 More generally, Denikin believed the fight against the Red Army was, in 23 Lincoln, Red Victory, 217-218. 24 Lincoln, Red Victory, 218. 25 Robinson, “‘Always with Honour,’” 140. 26 Grigorii Rakovskii, Konets belykx: Ot Dnepra do Bosfora (Prague, 1921), 3, quoted in W. Bruce Lincoln, Red Victory: A History of the Russian Civil War (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1989), 225. 27 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1918, 211.

itself, a noble cause. This contributed to the failures of the Volunteer Army, as it incorrectly assumed that the justification for the Civil War was self-evident. Due to this fact, he paid less attention to asserting the benefits of fighting against the Red Army. “When he founded the Volunteer Army, General Alekseev defined its purpose as being to act as a moral inspiration to others, … saying that ‘A torch must be lit, so that at least one speck of light will shine amidst the darkness which has enveloped Russia.’”28 This, in itself, justified the majority of the Volunteer Army’s military strategy, as the existence of the Red Army was viewed as an attack against Russia’s honor. Internal Conflicts within the Volunteer Army Denikin became the commander of the Volunteer Army in 1918 because he felt a duty to defend Russia and her honor. His lack of leadership knowledge made it difficult to command the Volunteer Army during the Civil War effectively. Only after General Kornilov was killed in April 1918 and General Alekseev was in too poor health to command the army did Denikin assume the position of glavnokomandoiushchii (main commander).29 He did not have the political skills to succeed at this position as he took little interest in the political nature of the Civil War. Instead, he viewed the conflict in more moral terms, fighting to restore honor as opposed to destroying the Bolsheviks. As such, he was a largely inept leader and failed to maintain 28 M. V. Alekseev, quoted in, A. I. Denikin, The White Army (London, 1930), 36, in, Paul F. Robinson, “‘Always with Honour’: The Code of the White Russian Officers,” Canadian Slavonic Papers / Revue Canadienne Des Slavistes 41, no. 2 (1999), 131. 29 Peter Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1919-1920: The Defeat of the Whites (Berkeley: Published for the Hoover Institution on War, Revolution, and Peace [by] University of California Press, 1977), 257-258.

order within the ranks of his army. Unsurprisingly, the Volunteer Army was undersupplied due to inadequate supply lines. As a result, they often looted local villages and gained the nickname Grab’armiia (Looter Army).30 The looting turned the people away from the White Army, as they appeared no different from the Red Army in terms of respecting the local population. The main difference between the White Army and the Red Army was then that the Red Army made promises of a better future, thus gaining support from the people, despite looting them. Historians have suggested that Denikin knew about the looting but he could not do anything about it.31 Denikin’s inaction is likely the result of his reluctance to betray his values. Denikin, unlike other White Army officers, would not shoot captured enemies or his troops to reestablish discipline. The being said, “Many cruelties were committed by Denikin’s army ... but Denikin was not the person to order massacres.”32 Denikin refused to break his convictions even if it meant losing the Civil War. He saw the Civil War as a righteous act and would not knowingly do anything to tarnish Russia’s reputation. Victory without honor made the White Army’s cause no more righteous than the Bolsheviks they fought against. As long as they fought honorably, the outcome of the Civil War would not affect their honor, as they had successfully shown that not all Russians supported the Bolshevik regime. Denikin’s failure as a commander of the White Army is not the primary 30 Mawdsley, The Russian Civil War, 208. 31 Maribek Vatchagev, “The Chechen Resistance: Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow,” in Volatile Borderland: Russia and North Caucasus, edited by Glen E. Howard (Washington, DC: Jamestown Foundation, 2012), 208. 32 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1919-1920, 257.

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reason they lost the Civil War but was a contributing factor. He struggled with the notion of sacrificing his values in the name of victory. “He was a man with a high sense of duty, and he believed he must carry out his task. An essentially decent man, a capable officer, one of the better products of the Imperial officer corps, he was confronted with tasks that were beyond his abilities and alien to his personality.”33 In other words, Denikin’s unwillingness to betray his values prevented him from properly commanding the Volunteer Army and led to its demise. He firmly held to his beliefs until the end, even after he was essentially kicked out of the White Army. He left Russia in April 1920 after those above him appointed General Wrangel to command his army.34 The Civil War broke Denikin spiritually and mentally. He spent the remainder of his life in exile, continuing to believe in the restoration of old order Russia.35 He was inflexible in his conception of “Russia,” which ultimately hindered his ability to effectively command the Volunteer Army during the Civil War. Conclusion Honor inhibited Denikin, commander of the Volunteer Army, from gaining popular support from the peasants, fighting against the Red Army, and inhibited his control over his troops. Denikin’s insistence on honor prevented him from creating concrete goals, which thus prevented him from gaining popular support. In the North Caucasus specifically, he incorrectly assumed the local inhabitants would help the White Army save the 258. 259.

33 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1919-1920, 34 Lincoln, Red Victory, 228. 35 Kenez, Civil War in South Russia, 1919-1920,

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country from the Bolsheviks as the locals’ opposed them. Denikin’s tactics were focused foremostly on restoring honor rather than destroying the Bolshevik government. As a result, his efforts did not appeal to the peasant population, as the restoration of Russia’s honor meant far less to them than better living conditions, which the Bolsheviks promised. Denikin’s rigid compliance to honor made him an ineffective commander of his army as it limited his ability to control his troops. Denikin’s firmly held beliefs in old order Russia and its military traditions ultimately contributed to the defeat of the Volunteer Army in South Russia.

American author and journalist Mignon McLaughlin once said, “The past is strapped to our backs. We do not have to see it; we can always feel it.”1 Her sentiment holds true: regardless of where in the world we come from, the histories of our homelands unconsciously shape how we are seen by others and how we understand ourselves. What is more, different nationalities and identities deal--or do not deal-with trauma differently. To understand President Putin’s Russia today, one must first know what collective trauma and Soviet nostalgia are, and second, know that Stalin and his era play a continually instrumental role in citizens’ behaviors and in Putin’s censorship and expansionist policies. It is only by identifying how Russia’s past is inextricably intertwined with its present that one can begin to look toward what Russia’s future might become. To the Western world, Joseph Stalin is often recognized in association with the Allies’ World War II victory; however, to Russians and Eastern Europeans, he is also known for inciting multinational trauma from the 1936 to 1938 “Great Purge” and the 1932 to 1934 Ukrainian 1 Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic’s Notebook. New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1960.

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genocide, “Holodomor”2—both of which he engineered.3 The “Great Purge” arose from Stalin’s paranoia that officials within his own government were plotting to overthrow him.4 This hysteria manifested across Russia in what became a “witchhunt” so large that by the end of Stalin’s period of search, seizure, show trials in Moscow, and execution of “traitors to the people,” thousands of his own Communist Party officials had been murdered, while the rest of them were sent to Gulags along with his other political enemies.5 Scholars have estimated that out of the 18 million or more imprisoned there6, an average of somewhere between 3 to 7 million perished.7 Additionally, from “Holodomor,” Stalin’s man-made famine, approximately 4.5 million people died (primarily due to starvation) in the two-year period; however, experts speculate that it could be closer to seven or ten million people due 2 Lana Babij and Natasha Sazonova, “Holodomor Facts and History.” Connecticut Holodomor Awareness Committee. 3 Babij and Sazonova, “Holodomor Facts and History.” 4 Benjamin Valentino, “Final solutions: The causes of mass killing and genocide.” Security Studies 9, no. 3 (2000): 10-16. 5 Michael Ellman, “Soviet Repression Statistics: Some Comments,” Europe-Asia Studies 54, no. 7 (July 2, 2010): 1151-72. 6 Stephen Blyth, “The Dead of the Gulag: An Experiment in Statistical Investigation,” Journal of the Royal Statistical Society. Series C (Applied Statistics) 44, no. 3 (1995): 307-21. 7 John Keep, « Recent Writing on Stalin’s Gulag : An Overview », Crime, Histoire & Sociétés / Crime, History & Societies, Vol. 1, n°2 | 1997, 91-112.

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to the number of mass graves.8 Dr. Timothy Snyder, professor of History at Yale University, states that “to believe...vast suffering must be associated with great progress is to accept a kind of hermetic masochism….such a status allowed [Stalin] to absolve himself of all responsibility, and to place the blame of his failings upon others.”9 In addition to the mass repressions and murders caused by Stalin during this era, World War II also brought with it horrendous losses for the Russian people and even more traumatic memories to boot. While Americans experienced World War II in terms of atomic bombings and distant military ventures, Eastern Europeans experienced psychological and physical damages, displacement, and societal divisions as civilians from the war, as well as mass murder and forced collaboration with the Nazi and Stalinist regimes.10 For Russians and Eastern Europeans specifically, joint Soviet-Nazi occupations; extermination of Jews; and destruction of government, class, and property left gaping wounds that are still visible today.11 In light of the death toll, widespread hysteria and fear, limiting of freedoms, and destruction of families brought on by Stalin, as well as the pain and losses of World War II, it is not difficult to see why such traumatic events are not popular topics of thought or daily conversation among those who either experienced them or learned about them later. The multi-generational memory of World War II and the Stalin era in Eastern

Europeans is subjective and spotty, with portions of it that are still completely removed from national consciousness because of this resulting collective trauma.12 “Memorial” human rights organization leader Irina Sherbakova explains that Russians have not forgotten about Stalin’s political repression; rather, it is that they “don’t want to reflect on the terror [and]... [t]hey aren’t ready to acknowledge that this was the central pillar of the entire system.”13 As Sherbakova highlights, the widespread refusal to come to terms with the pains inflicted during the era of Stalin and World War II is crucial to an outsider’s understanding of the Russian experience.14 However, this sense of collective trauma cannot simply be attributed to this era; rather, it must be understood in tandem with the humiliation, chaos, and instability felt from the fall of the Soviet Union in the 1990s. The longer you live, the more you are able to comparatively view the seasons of your life. During and after the collapse, Russians experiencing the impacts of economic volatility and anarchic corruption in real time longed for the comparably preferable stagnation, yet stability of the Brezhnev era—and previous ones— through rose-colored glasses, ignoring the traumatic aspects of their former Soviet reality out of self-preservation.15 Today, Russia and Eastern Europe are still encased in this strange amalgamation of trauma and nostalgia. Notably, part of the reason why this phenomenon can be difficult to understand for outsiders is because Russians and Eastern

8 Babij and Sazonova, “Holodomor.” 9 Timothy Snyder, Bloodlands: Europe between Hitler and Stalin. New York: Basic Books, (2010): viii-xix, 1-20, 379-417. 10 George Schöpflin, Politics in Eastern Europe : 1945-1992. Oxford: Blackwell, (1993): 60-65. 11 Snyder, Bloodlands: Europe between Hitler and Stalin

14 Irina Sherbakova, “Vladimir Putin’s Russia.” 15 Ibid., “Vladimir Putin’s Russia.”

12 Marco Siddi, “The Ukraine crisis and European memory politics of the Second World War.” European Politics and Society 18, no. 4 (November 24, 2016): 465-79. 13 Irina Sherbakova, “Vladimir Putin’s Russia is rehabilitating Stalin. We must not let it happen,” The Guardian, July 10, 2019.

Europeans have nuanced and fragmented perspectives on these two topics that also differ greatly across Soviet and post-Soviet generations. The way Soviet nostalgia is used to cope with trauma varies. For example, some use dark humor to deal with their past, but others cope by omitting or denying the horrors of the Stalin era, while extracting only the positive aspects from it.16 It is certainly not true that discussion of the Soviet era among these peoples is—or was—scarce: it seems to be more of the case that “people preferred to use humor to interpret their Soviet past…while avoiding the subject of the repressions of the Soviet occupation regime.”17 In conjunction with the Soviet collapse in the late 1990s, material culture brought forth a “discourse of the good old Soviet times” that was “…characterized by a warm but irony-laden relationship with the society of the late Soviet period.”18 This endearing, yet sarcastic national understanding of the latter portion of the Soviet period through media can be explained in part by the fact that it has been directed by the “second” Soviet generation: those born in the 1970s and grew up in the post-Stalinist world; whereas, the life stories of their parents (the “first” Soviet generation) emphasize a very different experience, where the “hardships [they] had to endure in later life cannot be compared to those of their [poverty-ridden] childhood at the end of the 1940s.”19 Much of this attention toward the Soviet times comes from 16 Olena Nikolayenko, “Contextual effects on historical memory: Soviet nostalgia among post-Soviet adolescents,” Communist and Post-Communist Studies 41 (April 25, 2008): 244. 17 Kirsti Jõesalu and Ene Kõresaar, “Continuity or Discontinuity: On the Dynamics of Remembering “Mature Socialism” in Estonian Post-Soviet Remembrance Culture,” Journal of Baltic Studies 44, no. 2 (August 2013): 177-203. 18 Jõesalu and Kõresaar, “Estonian Post-Soviet Remembrance Culture,” 193. 19 Ibid. et al., “Estonian Post-Soviet Remembrance Culture,” 189-192.

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this “second” generation’s dark humor; puzzlingly however, the figurehead for this nostalgia is Stalin, not leaders of their time like Khrushchev or Brezhnev—perhaps because of Stalin’s comparatively “stronger” leadership and association with Russia’s war victory.20 Another modern puzzle is the fact that these memories of the Soviet regime still seem to have a perplexing influence because of the public’s love for Soviet culture, yet mixture of hatred, unease, respect, and complete denial regarding Stalin specifically. To illustrate the former point, Dr. Michael Kimmage notes that “many Russians love the Russia they have inherited from the Soviet and immediate post-Soviet periods, with its language, literature, landscapes, music, popular culture, jokes, and food,”21 which is apparent in the continual rising of “nostalgia [and demand] for Soviet cultural products” in the past fifteen years.22 However, Dr. Thomas Sherlock bolsters the latter point by noting that most Russians have personally felt the losses of family members during World War II, many of whom died because of Stalin’s commands.23 Paradoxically, Stalin is also attributed to Russia’s war victory and heroic rise to superpower status.24 In addition, the overall Stalinist system is often perceived as “less corrupt,” more socially-mobile, and “more united by shared values than Russia today.”25 From this duplicitous image of Stalin, it is easy to 20 Keith Gessen, “What’s the Matter With Russia? Putin and the Soviet Legacy,” Foreign Affairs 93, no. 4 (August 2014): 182-V. 21 Michael Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian: How Russian Society Created Putin,” Foreign Affairs 97, no. 4 (August 2018): 176-82. 22 Gessen, “What’s the Matter With Russia?,” 186. 23 Thomas Sherlock, “Russian politics and the Soviet past: Reassessing Stalin and Stalinism under Vladimir Putin.” Communist and Post-Communist Studies 49 (February 2, 2016): 49. 24 Sherlock, “Russian politics and the Soviet past,” 56. 25 Ibid., “Russian politics,” 56.

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see why “...most Russians have contradictory views” of him.26 Heightened due to the instability of the 90s, this paradoxical combination of the public’s enjoyment of Soviet nostalgia via cultural consumerism, familial losses on account of Stalin and World War II, and hushed collective traumas of the Soviet era is a crucial— and often under-studied—factor related to current Russian president Vladimir Putin’s maintained grasp on Russia over the decades.27 Arguably, it is from this instrumental intersection of economic crisis and stirring Soviet nostalgia that Vladimir Putin was able to rise to power at the start of the 21st century. Though there are a plethora of complicated factors embedded in President Putin’s success over the years, it cannot be denied that his use of one-sided Soviet nostalgia elements and Russians’ willingness to forget the horrors of Stalin are still central to his platform today.28 More specifically, Putin has re-framed history to portray the era of Stalin solely by Russia’s “heroic and bright” victory of World War II and has used modern technology to ensure such propaganda could successfully push the memory of “the millions who perished in waves of political repression” into “the margins of collective consciousness.”29 Similar to the unrealistic Stalin image wrapped in dark humor that has been a product of the “second” Soviet generation, Putin also mythically elevates Stalin “…very far from the real historical figure,” to the point that Stalin becomes a

“symbol of justice” instead;30 specifically, when Putin wishes to “appeal to Russian patriotism.”31 Again, like the 1970s generation, Putin’s praises of the Soviet era fixate on Stalin (but primarily because of the war victory associated with him), rather than the “achievements of the less tyrannical leaders” who followed him.32 For example, under Putin, the government has revived events like “Soviet-style military parades featuring heavy weapons” that glorify Russia’s war triumph under Stalin,33 “…reinstated the [musical score of the] Soviet nacommissioned under Putin “…[portrayed] the mass terror of the Stalin years as necessary for the country’s rapid modernization” and that Stalin’s Great Terror was not only a “preventative repression,” but also that its means “...WERE justified BY the end of preparation for war with Germany.”34 Though post-Soviet generations have instant access to the rest of the world and a greater ability to garner new ideas and information than any generation before through the internet, Dr. Nikolayenko’s study reveals that despite these freedoms, “Soviet-era historic myths” and Soviet historiography have greatly influenced the “spatial imaginations of young Russians.”35 Furthermore, it can perhaps be said that adolescents’ ability to “log on” to the global community has helped fuel Putin’s “Soviet nostalgia and grandeur” approach in the sense that their increased access to non-Russian opinions (many of which portray Russia

26 Ibid., Sherlock 27 Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian,” 177. 28 Ibid., “National Identity.” 29 Sherbakova, “Vladimir Putin’s Russia.” Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian,” 178.

32 Ibid., “What’s the Matter With Russia?,” 186. 33 Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian,” 178. 34 Sherlock, “Russian politics and the Soviet past,” 48.

30 “Russia’s ‘Stockholm syndrome’: Stalin nostalgia at all-time high.” Democracy Digest, April 16, 2019. 31 Gessen, “What’s the Matter With Russia?,” 186.

35 Nikolayenko, “Contextual effects,” 256.

as the “villain” and treat ethnic Russians “unfairly” when they are abroad via harsh stereotypes) can lead to those adolescents becoming defensive about Russia’s Soviet history.36 When younger generations’ grievances about Russia’s negative international image are combined with their passed-down pride about the former Soviet Union’s globally-renowned strength, what happens is that these “… pro-Soviet sentiments generate mass support for Russia’s aggressive foreign policy” inside—and outside—the region.37 Despite the focus on the youngest generation of Russians, Putin’s foreign policy decisions are highly contested among post-Soviet and Soviet generations alike, with support and large levels of dissent on all sides.38 What is critical to remember is that Putin not only uses Stalin and his era to fuel nationalistic support and maintain power over supporters and dissenters alike, but he also implements two authoritarian tactics that Stalin himself relied on heavily during his reign: censorship and expansionism. Putin has increasingly narrowed his people’s access to foreign sources over his time in office. Re-branding Stalin’s traditional censorship, Putin’s cyber and internet approaches emphasize the three techniques of “fear,” “friction,” and “flooding.”39 Particularly capitalizing on the “fear” tactic, Putin’s regime uses censorship to deter opposition via threats of reprisal i.e., prosecuting Russians who like or share politically radical or oppositional content on social media 36 Nikolayenko, “Contextual effects,” 251-52. 37 Ibid., “Contextual effects,” 251. 38 Gessen, “What’s the Matter With Russia?,” 186. 39 Margaret E. Roberts, Censored: Distraction and Diversion Inside China’s Great Firewall. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2018.

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platforms.40 In some ways, alarmingly reminiscent of Stalin’s purges, Putin’s use of “fear” censorship has resulted in his own type of “purge,” in which high-profile journalists, religious representatives, human rights activists, and many others who oppose Putin have become political prisoners due to their outspoken beliefs.41 The second censorship tactic utilized by Putin is “friction”: the act of implementing cyberspace barriers that discourage users from attempting to access certain services or websites online.42 In a roundtable discussion with both students and professors from Moscow International University this summer, this “friction” tactic was particularly worrying to them, especially to the students of the post-Soviet generations who have grown up accustomed to having access to their foreign friends and media and are slowly seeing sites like “LinkedIn” being blocked from their usage. Putin’s third tactic, “flooding,” is essentially the use of censorship through “distraction and attention diversion.”43 In the Russian case, because the Kremlin is “tightening control over the media,” this ensures that the public only receives the “official narrative of domestic and foreign events” that Putin wants them to see.44 This type of censorship creates a national landscape that journalist Peter Pomerantsev describes as a place where “nothing is true and everything is possible” and where distinguishing between reality and 40 Roberts, Censored: Distraction and Diversion Inside China’s Great Firewall 41 “Russia’s ‘Stockholm syndrome’: Stalin nostalgia at all-time high.” 42 Roberts, Censored: Distraction and Diversion 43 Roberts, Censored 44 Torrey Taussig, “The rise of personalist rule,” The rise of personalist rule. Last modified March 23, 2017. Brookings Institution.

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fantasy is nearly impossible.45 Putin’s heavy-handed usage of censorship makes him comparable to Stalin, but so does his use of expansionism—evident in his annexation of Crimea in 2014—that was driven by appeals to Russian nationalism and patriotism. After Putin re-emphasized to the public that “…victories abroad were central to Russia’s cohesion,” he “needed a triumph of his own” that would liken his success to “…Stalin’s victory in World War II.”46 Dr Kimmage says that “With the annexation of Crimea, Putin got his wish.”47 To much of the rest of the world, Putin’s move to take Crimea back from Ukraine seems to be an all-too-obvious attempt at regurgitating Russia’s imperialist quest in securing the Soviet republics in the 20th century; however, to his people, the opinions about the annexation are as mixed as their opinions about Putin himself. Those that supported Putin’s annexation decision seemed to be encouraged on two points: firstly, the Kremlin’s Crimean course of action was “virtually bloodless”; secondly, Putin’s actions stirred within his supporters feelings of almost “…imperial nostalgia associated with memories of Soviet global and regional military, economic, and political power.”48 These positive reactions by some of the Russian population cause some scholars to suggest that perhaps “…many still pine for an empire,”49 while the other portion of the Russian population (along with Western outsiders) feel strongly that the annexation of Crimea has been an “imperialist landgrab” that has “violated 45 Taussig, “personalist rule.” 46 Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian,” 179. 47 Ibid., “The People’s Authoritarian,” 179. 48 Sherlock, “Russian politics,” 56. 49 Gessen, “What’s the Matter With Russia?,” 186.

every international norm in the book and threatens world peace.”50 Here, within this interplay of censoring and territorial expansion, Putin is most comparable to Stalin. As many scholars have warily pointed out, Putin is resurrecting the Homo Sovieticus idealism rampant under Stalin by “[restoring] the authoritarian Soviet institutions,” discarding former President Yeltsin’s “national penitence” idea for “the sins of Soviet communism” once more, “…skillfully [exploiting] divisions within Russia by championing ‘traditional values,’” inciting official legislation that promotes hatred toward homosexuality, “…stylizing the state as a safeguard against Western decadence,” and casting the social sciences as “[obstacles] to conformity.”51 Despite the authoritarian similarities of the two men, it of course must be reiterated that Putin is not, nor will ever be, exactly like Stalin. Putin has never made any political moves to condemn Jews, as Stalin did, is not known to have had a mental disorder like Stalin, nor has Putin sentenced millions of innocent people to certain death in camps or by the hands of his officials—though he has done the latter, but on a much more minute scale.52 Subsequently, Putin has been known to occupy an “ambivalent” position at times because of the tricky balance Russia must find between the two extremes: an all-encompassing embrace of Stalinist war victory and national isolationism versus a merger with the European Union and ideals of Western 50 Alexander J. Motyl, “PUTIN’S ZUGZWANG: The Russia-Ukraine Standoff,” World Affairs 177, no. 2 (August 2, 2014): 59-61. JSTOR. 51 Kimmage, “The People’s Authoritarian,” 179. 52 Vladimir Shlapentokh, “Putin as a flexible politician. Does he imitate Stalin?” Communist and Post-Communist Studies 41, no. 2 (June 2008): 207.

nations.53 What Putin’s legacy will be by the end of his reign remains to be seen. Overall, the collective traumas from Stalin’s era, World War II, and Soviet nostalgia have churned out a nation in which generational coping mechanisms and methods of understanding Russians’ shared history differ greatly. These factors have allowed President Vladimir Putin to further his position more than he could have ever hoped to accomplish without them. Specifically, Putin has taken advantage of his peoples’ trauma and their lack of solidified national memory to craft his own version of history that he pushes in his politics and policy. Furthermore, he has also tried—and many say, succeeded—in reinvigorating his regime by re-imagining and idealizing Stalin’s war victory to uphold as the gold standard of Russia’s history that he wants Russia to return to today. Finally, through his similarities to Stalin via his uses of censorship and expansionism, it is not difficult to see why non-Russians and Russians alike struggle to size up Putin’s character and actions separately from those he praises in Stalin. As for the future of Russia and its neighbors, only time can tell. Some scholars say that Churchill’s famous statement in which he called Stalin’s Russia “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma” now also applies to Putin’s Russia, while others have hope that such sinister mysteries will be expunged by this newest generation that seeks change and can potentially outlive Putin.54 However, time certainly does not heal all wounds, and while the traumas of the past will fade, they will never 53 Sherlock, “Russian politics,” 53. 54 Motyl, “PUTIN’S ZUGZWANG,” 59.

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completely disappear from the pages of Russia’s story.

The Birch, Spring 2020

Mtskheta, Georgia Henry Woelflein

The Birch, Spring 2020

With the November 2018 arrest

Before 2018, the most recent

of rapper Khaski, censorship of popular

wave of musical rebellion in the territory

musical artists in the Russian Federation

now known as the Russian Federation

made international headlines . After pow-

was the technology-sustained Soviet rock

er went out at his concert in Krasnodar,

scene of the 1980’s and 1990’s. Artists

Khaski climbed on a car roof to perform

used a system of self-made/distributed

outside the venue, leading to his arrest

cassette tapes known as magnitizdat to

for “hooliganism” and a twelve day jail

circulate counterculture music. Lyrically

sentence . In recent months, other artists

and musically, the Western genre of rock

have had concerts cancelled or sabotaged

highlighted freedom (свобода), which

by local authorities3. This is hardly the first

does not historically have a positive

time that musicians in modern Soviet/

connotation in Russia, and was banned

Russian history have faced censorship.

until the time of Glasnost’ and Perestroi-

However, the digital age has introduced

ka4. Even after official bans were lifted,

variables that affect how these artists in-

state-controlled radio stations meant

teract with the broader culture. This paper

counterculture artists had to find other

will examine similarities and differences

ways to share music 5 6.

between late Soviet and contemporary

While orthogonal to official

musical artists and analyze how techno-

ideology, late Soviet rock spoke to the

logical advancements have influenced

realities of late Soviet life, and groups like

present events.

Akvarium, DDT, and Grazhdanskaya Ob-

1 Neil Macfarquhar, “Rapper Is Jailed for 12 Days in Russia as a Culture War Spreads,” The New York Times (The New York Times, November 23, 2018) 2 Boris Barabanov, “Status: Svobodny’,” Kommersant’ (Kommersant’, November 28, 2018) 3 Arina Kochemarova, “V Nizhnem Novgorode Roditeli Potrebovali Otmenit’ Koncerty’ Monetochki, Khaski, i Drugikh Isponitelnej,” Snob. (Snob., September 27, 2018)

orona gained dedicated fans. As with the

4 Svetlana V Stevanovich and Ekaterina N Chueva, “Osobennosti Kontsepta ‘Svoboda’ v Russkoy’ Rok-Poezii,” Glasnik Etnografskog Instituta SANU 60, no. 1 (2012): pp. 7-12) 5 Artemiy’ K Troitskiy’, Rok Musy’ka v SSSR: Opy’t Populyarnoj Entsiklopedii (Moskva: Kniga, 1990) 6 Evelyn Radke, “Magnitizdat v SSSR i GDR,” Russkaya Rok-Poeziya: Tekst i Konteksti 9 (2007): pp. 256-261)

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bard music of Vysotsky and Okuzhdaeva,

porary music are a counterculture outlet

lyricists were viewed as poets, with words

for socio-political protest and critique,

being the most valuedmusical element

there are some artists today who use

. Fans were so dedicated to Kino, the

counterculture elements to accessorize

most renowned group of the time, that

their personas. contemporary music is

the death of frontman and lyricist, Viktor

characterized by two general currents that

Tsoi, triggered fan suicides9. Tsoi’s songs

appear in the rebellion of contemporary

like “Pack of Cigarettes” and “Star by the

artists: one of shock value and one of

name of ‘Sun’” highlighted isolation, alco-

musical innovation and precise socio-po-

holism, and apathy towards foreign wars

litical critique. For example, Friendzona

and resonated with the public, 10 11. As

(Френдзона), a harmless teen group with

with premature deaths of other popular

anime influences, has experienced concert

Soviet figures such as Gagarin and Maya-

cancellations for expressing homosexu-

kovsky, many question the official story of

ality15. Allj, a popular rapper, writes lyrics

Tsoi’s death, believing that the state killed

that tend to be unremarkable, but his

him

videos contain graphic sex and violence

. The magnitizdat movement was

12 13

therefore characterized by artists explor-

that have garned controversy16. Other art-

ing new musical avenues, using technolo-

ists have violent lyrics; for example, ATL’s

gy to evade centralized state suppression

track “1000” includes the words “the mass

and garnering immense cult popularity.

sacrifice is in vain/this party is heading

Many have observed a parallel

to cannibalism” and “rip out my eyes to

between magnitizdat and the contempo-

make it easier/this is an ugly humanity”

rary Russian music scene 14. However, dif-

ferences specific to the digital age remain.

elements to build an image rather than

Whereas Soviet rock and some contem-

to open a discussion. Their work is ab-

7 Mikhail Shider, “Yazy’k Russkogo Roka (Na Materiale Pesen Yuriya Shevchuka),” Russkaya Rok Poe’ziya: Tekst i Konteksti 4 (2000) 8 Radke, 257 9 Troitskiy’ 156 10 Kino, “Pachka Sigarett” track 6 on Zvezda po imeni solntse’, Moroz Records, 1989, compact disc. 11 Kino , “Zvezda po imeni solntse’” track 2 on Zvezda po imeni solntse’, Moroz Records, 1989, compact disc. 12 “Tajna Gibeli Tsoya: Pochemu E’kcperty’ Ne Veryat v Ofitsial’nuyu Versiyu,” NTV (NTV, July 21, 2017)) 13 Nika Martsinkevich, “Kak Pogib Tsoy’? Versij Gibeli Viktora Tsoya,” SYL (SYL, September 14, 2014) 14 “Basta Oxxxymiron i Noize MC Dali Kontsert v Podderzhku Khaski. Ego Final Vojdet v Istoriyu -- Posmotrite Kak E’to By’lo,” Meduza (Meduza, November 26, 2018)

. These artists demonstrate “edgy”

stracted from reality outside themselves: Friendzona dresses as cartoon characters; Allj wears white contacts and sets his vid-

15 BBC News - Russkaya Sluzhba. “IC3PEAK, Khaski, “Friendzona”: kak v Rossiy’ zapreshchayut kontserti.” YouTube video, 23:30. December 26, 2018. 16 Sayonara Boy. “E’ldzhej - 1love” YouTube video, 4:06. October 17, 2018 17 UNOFFICIALCLIP”ATL - 1000” Youtube video. 3.34 January 4, 2018.

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eos in neon-lit Asian-influenced sets 18 19.

that while many critics have called them

ATL’s lyrics lack political and societal spec-

“theatrical,” they prefer “ritualistic” or

ificity . These examples are not generaliz-

“shamanistic” with some songs like “New

able to wider culture; therefore, these acts

Song 2,” containing no discernable words

serve more as identity tags than a societal

or melody 23 24 25. Another group, IC3PEAK,

protest.These examples are also relatively

is advertised as “futuristic opera,” “audio-

musically typical, taking risks only at an

visual terror,” and “russian horror techno”

aesthetic level.

and appeals to the generational divide

In contrast, many contemporary

in the modern day with lyrics like “I’m a

Russian musicians have followed the Sovi-

stranger in my native family/.../I’m looking

et rock model by mixing innovative forms

for my home and roots like you 26 27. Their

with well-developed societal critique.

most controversial song “Death No More”

While Soviet rock grew in geographic

contains the lyrics “I fill my eyes with ker-

bubbles with their own characteristics be-

osene, let it all burn/All of Russia is watch-

cause of the need to physically exchange

ing me, let it all burn” and reached 19

cassettes/attend concerts, the internet

million views on YouTube in less than four

allows any artist to upload any project,

months28. Pop star Monetochka lists a mix

any time21. Perhaps because of this, the

of influences and contrasts upbeat catchy

modern scene demonstrates greater

melodies with harsh lyrics like “In the 90s,

diversity and individuality. For exam-

they killed people/everyone ran around

ple, St. Petersburg-based experimental

absolutely naked/There was no electricity

rock group, Shortparis, raises questions

anywhere/Just fighting with Coca-Cola

regarding the rise of nationalism and

for jeans” 29 30. These artists demonstrate

fear in Russia in the video for their song,

artistic intent in fusing musical elements

“Frightening”, amid operatic vocals, a

with message. Unlike the artists of the

dystonal dance beat and abstract lyrics22.

previous paragraph, these artists direct

Moreover, Dmitrii Volchek, the editor-in-chief at Radio Svoboda, describes them as Dionysian and absurdist. n In his interview with Volchek, Shortparis stated 18 BBC News - Russkaya Sluzhba 19 Sayonara Boy 20 UNOFFICIALCLIP 21 Troitskiy’ 22 Shortparis, ”Shortparis - Strashno” Youtube video. 5.26 January 4, 2018.

23 Dmitri Volchek, “Telo Potemnelo Kak Ugli. Dioniskijckie Ritualy’ Gruppy’ Shortparis,” Radio Svoboda 24 Volchek 25 Neformat Ukraine, “Shortparis - 9 - [New Song 2] - Live@Atlas [27.05.2017] Icecream Fest,” Youtube video. 5.15 June 6, 2017 26 @ic3peakso. 2013. “Nick & Nastya ~ audiovisual terror ~ futuristic opera ~ russian horror fairy tale.” Twitter. 27 IC3PEAK, “IC3PEAK -- Marsh (Marching),” Youtube video 2.25, February 28, 2020. 28 IC3PEAK, “IC3PEAK - Smerti Bol’she Net/Death No More,” Youtube video. 2.57, October 30, 2018. 29 “Biografiya,” Monetochka (Monetochka), accessed December 17, 2019) 30 monetochka, “Monetochka - 90 (prod. Vitya Isaev),” Youtube video. 3.43, August 21, 2018.

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themselves toward contemporary Russian

humorously excessive 35. When watching

culture, and their statements cannot be

Nastya (lead vocalist) solemnly hula hoop

divorced from the features of their work.

while smoking a “censored” cigarette, one

Shortparis tries to capture the present in

wonders if the reaction speaks more to a

broad lyrical and musical strokes, IC3PEAK

fear of cultural instability than the work of

ties its angst to the atmosphere in con-

the artists themselves 36. Monetochka also

temporary Russia, and Monetochka’s style

faced backlash when people denounced

relies on satire.

her collaboration with Noize MC “Child-

The influence of globalization is

free” (“Чайлдфри”) as suicide propagan-

also clear. Shortparis’s first album was in

da when, in fact, the lyrics portray suicide

English and French, and they have gained

as the tool of theDevil 37 38.

popularity in Europe with their tour

However, the most controversial

extending as far west as the United King-

artist of the moment is the rapper Khaski.

dom; IC3PEAK works with foreign labels

When Khaski first emerged on the musical

and has toured in East Asia, the U.S. and

scene his erratic movement led to internet

Europe; and Antifolk, one of Monetoch-

rumors of him being cognitively impaired

ka’s influences, was an American genre

responding to the U.S. music industry

tum for the quality and stark honesty of

machine 31 32.

his work, which eventually earned him

These groups have also faced

. Despite this, the rapper gained momen-

comparisons to Soviet poet, Sergei Esenin,

the misinterpretation of social satire.

and a place as one of the most respected

The members of Shortparis have been

contemporary Russian lyricists40. Khaski’s

simultaneously called homosexual,

first song, “The Seventh of October” (Pu-

nazis, and islamic terrorists by confused

tin’s birthday), self-released on Youtube in

members of the public

2011 when the rapper was 17 and contains

. While “Death

33 34

No More” was taken by some as a serious,

clear criticism of corruption in Putin’s

heavy-handed attack on the government,

regime. Khaski raps “Today is the tsar’s

IC3PEAK claims the video was meant to be 31 Dmitriy’ Kokoulin, “E’lektronny’j Due’t IC3PEAK - o Vizualizatsii Smerti, ‘Terrore’ i Poproshajkakh v Seti,” Moskva 24 (Moskva 24, October 23, 2014) 32 Jeffrey Taylor, “‘The Roots of Regina Spektor’s Post-Soviet Poetics.” ,” East European Jewish Affairs 46, no. 3 (2016): pp. 331-349) 33 “‘Nas Nazy’vali Islamistami i Natsistami Odnovremenno.” Gruppa Shortparis Zakhvaty’vaet Shkolu: Prem’era Klipa ‘Strashno’.,” Meduza (Meduza, December 19, 2018) 34 Volchek

35 BBC News - Russkaya Sluzhba 36 IC3PEAK 37 Noize MC, “Noize MC - Chajldfri (feat. monetochka),” Youtube video. 4.20, June 1, 2017. 38 Alina Dang, “Advokat Podavshij Zhalobu v SK, Ob’yasnil Chem Ego Vosmutila Pesnya Monetochki,” Metro (Metro, October 3, 2018) 39 “Khaski,” 24 SMI (24 SMI), accessed December 17, 2019 40 “Khaski Sravnivayut s Eseniny’m,” Ministerstvo kul’tury’ Respubliki Buryatiya (Ministerstvo kul’tury’ Respubliki Buryatiya, April 11, 2018

The Birch, Spring 2020

birthday/People, drop what you’re doing/

he described as terrifying, wondrous, and

drink to his mercy/So he doesn’t dump us

unreal. Khaski’s involvement in Donbass

scum at a crossroads” . Although Khas-

reflects an interesting phenomenon: the

ki’s later work is less explicitly political,

most censored artist is conservative and

Vladimir Petrov, deputy of the statehouse

protests living conditions without a call

of Leningrad Oblast’, among others, has

for Western-oriented progress. Khaski also

called it propaganda for drugs, suicide,

retains a mystic element that recalls other

and sexual deviance . Khaski was

Russian artists such as Scriabin, Dosto-

arrested earlier this year for creating the

evsky or Pelevin. His mysticism is seen in

appearance that he had hanged himself

cult-like activities with East Asian influ-

from a balcony in an Adidas tracksuit.

ence, that led to him to destroy his own

Several of his clips, including the one for

album in pursuit of inner peace. While it

his song “Judas,” were blocked in Russia,

was viewed as a simple protest against

though “Judas” still won Video of the

existence in the Russian Federation, or

Year and Khaski Hip-hop Artist of the Year

existence itself, his performative suicide

from Jager Music Awards . Khaski’s rap in

was taken by some to mean that Khaski

“Judas” mixes references to literature, reli-

seeks rebirth as a new artist. Like the

gion, and the drug trade while depicting

Soviet rockers, Khaski’s appeal is rooted

police brutality and gang violence . “Ju-

in controversial, honest content through

das” was the only track remaining from

a distinct artistic lens. For this reason,

the album “Evangelisms from a dog,” the

some see him as not just the poet laureate

album which Khaski notoriously deleted

but the artist laureate of the dark mood

in an Instagram video .

of “real Russians,” in contrast to other

Khaski’s documentary-style short film, “Lucifer” attempts to explain his behavior46. He describes joining the conflict in Ukraine in 2015, an experience 41 Khaski, “Khaski - Sed’moe oktyabrya (Husky - October 7-th),” Youtube video. 3.43, October 7, 2011. 42 BBC News - Russkaya Sluzhba 43 Ul’yana Bondarenko, “MVD Potrebovalo Zablokirovat’ Klip Khaski ‘Iuda’ Za Propagandu Narkotikov,” The Village (The Village, January 10, 2019) 44 Khaski, “Khaski - Iuda,” Youtube video. 2.37, April 18, 2018. 45 “Khaski Vy’lozhil Video, v Kotorom Udalyaet Svoj Novy’j Al’bom. Papka ‘Evangelie Sobaki’ Otpravlena v Korzinu.’ ,” The Flow (The Flow, September 10, 2018) 46 Khaski, “Lucifer (2019),” Youtube video. 27.00, July 25, 2019.

literary figures who are stereotypically removed from ordinary life 47 48. Aside from the association between social criticism and breaking musical norms, contemporary Russian music also shares “underground” aspects of late Soviet rock. However, the digital age has given more power to the artists 47 Khaski, “Lyutsifer (2019),” Youtube video 27.00, July 25, 2019. 48 Dmitriy’ By’kov, “Popy’tka Farsejstva,” Novaya Gazeta (Novaya Gazeta, November 24, 2018)

The Birch, Spring 2020

than was had in Soviet times. In the place

vember 2018 announcing the concert in

of cassettes, self-publishing on social

which he stated, “I am not Khaski’s friend.

media sites like Youtube, VKontakte, and

I disagree with the majority of his views

Instagram allows artists to reach a wide

and actions. But that makes it even more

audience without going through official

important to support him” 55. The solidar-

media labels. These songs move faster

ity concert happened two days later and

and farther than physical magnitizdat,

included other rappers, Basta and Noize

and actions against artists cause spikes in

MC, the latter of which experienced his

views. Originally published in May 2017,

own arrest for 10 days in 2010 for insulting

the song ‘Ay’ which Khaski was performing

military officials 56. Oxxxymiron posted a

during his arrest on November 21, 2018

video of Khaski after his release, in which

gained over 500,000 new Youtube views in

Khaski stated that he would donate the

the following month . In the song, Khaski

proceeds of the concert to rights-protec-

raps, “I’m going to sing my music” 50(“Я

tion organizations like Agora and Open

буду петь свою музыку”), a line that be-

Russia (Открытая Россия), as well as

came a viral hashtag used by other artists

the media outlet Mediazona (founded by

and fans to show support .

Pussy Riot) 57. This multifaceted response

Social media also allows for

would not have been possible without the

instant dissemination of information. One

connectivity of the internet, both between

video in particular, recorded at the now in-

the different organizers and with the

famous Krasnodar concert and originally

public. This situation proved that pow-

posted on Instagram, has been circulated

erful public responses to overt authority

and published on several media platforms

action, like that taken in Krasnodar, are a

and international news sources

force that authorities must consider when

. The

52 53 54

internet also aided the rapid organization

choosing how to respond to “problemat-

and response of other artists in support

ic” cultural figures.

of Khaski. Mainstream rapper Oxxxymiron

Also in contrast to magnitizdat,

posted an Instagram video on 24 No-

it is unclear whether censorship is coming

49 Macfarquhar 50 Khaski, “Khaski- Aj,” Youtube video 2.24, May 25, 2017. 51 Nastya Krivets, “#YaBuduPet’SvoyuMuzy’ku.,” Memepedia (Memepedia, November 27, 2018) 52 @lintsy17. 2018. “Minutka demokratii #khaski #svobodukhaski.” Instagram, November 21, 2018 53 Macfarquhar 54 “Russian Rapper Husky Faces Jail over Gig on a Car Roof.,” The Guardian (The Guardian, November 22, 2018)

55 @norimyoxxxo 2018. “YA BUDU PET’ SVOYU MUZY’KY: Basta Oxxxymiron Noize MC, Kontsert Solidarnosti” Instagram, November 24, 2018 56 Kommersant 57 @norimyoxxxo 2018. “Vazhnoe soobshschenie ot Khaski @ papinomoloko, pokazivayushschii, schto ideya tvorcheskoj vzaimopomoshsci ne ogranchitsya nashim nedavnim kontsertom. Rad by’l povidatsya. #yabudupet’svoyumuzy’ku” Instagram, November 28, 2018

The Birch, Spring 2020

from the State or from widespread cultur-

has been produced by more popular

al tension . While the internet has given

artists like Allj62. However, Khaski’s history

artists a larger platform to reach fans, it

of political statements and criticism of the

also exposes them to criticism from main-

realities of the drug trade and corruption

stream society. In Nizhny Novgorod, a par-

weigh more heavily against him than

ent organization moved to ban 18 rappers,

actual depictions of drug consumption

calling them propaganda for “alcoholism,

in videos. Lenta.Ru also reports that an

drug use, cannibalism, and sadism” .

anonymous source in a rights-protection

With regard to the cancellation of an

agency informed them that just prior to

upcoming Allj concert, the administration

Khaski’s arrest, the Minister of Internal

of Kaliningrad has stated that it was not

Affairs, Vladimir Kolokoltsev labeled the

involved, and the cancellation was due to

rapper’s work as “extremist”63. Taken in

a petition against the artist from citizens

sum with the targeting of IC3PEAK and

on Change.org . Vladimir Putin has stat-

2010 arrest of Noize MC, it seems proba-

ed he does not believe hard censorship is

ble that a widespread tension in cultural

useful, citing the example of underground

values provides a convenient cover for

Soviet rock’s continued popularity. It is

targeting artists who are making political

also believed that his administration was

statements.

responsible for Khaski’s release after only four days instead of the full twelve . 60

However, given that the phe-

Certainly, there are differences between what is happening in Russia today and magnitizdat rock. As a result of

nomenon of cancelling concerts was rapid

the government’s reluctance to imple-

and widespread, there is reason to regard

ment hard censorship and the power

these statements with some skepticism.

of the internet, the artists have more

Additionally, it was the Ministry of Internal

freedom. There is more diversity in genre

Affairs that censored Khaski’s “Judas”, al-

and form of the art produced. However,

legedly for promoting drug use . In terms

there are also clear ties to magnitizdat;

of promoting drugs, more explicit material

for example, technological advances

58 Kochemarova 59 “Administratsiya Kaliningrada Otritsaet Svoyu Prichastnost’ k Otmene Kontserta Re’pera E’ldzheya Kotory’j Planirovalsya 16 Fevralya,” Radio E’kho Moskvy’ (Radio E’kho Moskvy’, February 14, 2019) 60 Rob Crilly, “Russia’s Silenced Rappers Find Unlikely Ally in Vladimir Putin,” The Telegraph (The Telegraph, December 16, 2018) 61 Bondarenko

supporting controversial artists. Additionally, many of the artists involved honestly 62 SayonaraBoy 63 “Raskry’ta Istinnaya Prichina Predsledovaniya Re’pera Khaski ,” Lenta (Lenta, November 22, 2018)

The Birch, Spring 2020

attest to living conditions in Russia/the USSR and rebel through new musical forms. Censorship for political reasons increases artists’ popularity, and the focus of the central government is still on political “extremists”. How the digital dynamic will affect the final outcome of this conflict is impossible to say. With Khaski’s early release from jail, it seems that artists like Khaski will be allowed to sing their music—for now.

Globally, the opioid epidemic has manifested itself into all facets of life, culture, and areas of the world, rendering it one of the deadliest drug crises in history. From the largest to the smallest countries, the opioid crisis affects individuals from all social, ethnic, and financial backgrounds, highlighting its proliferation and ability to spread within any society. Its residual effects on economies—how countries handle the financial implications of such a crisis—have left governments struggling to find a solution. Internationally, an estimated 34 million people misuse opioids, while approximately 27 million people suffer from opioid use disorders. There are effective treatments for opioid dependence; however, less than 10 percent of those who need such treatment receive it, often due to the stigma surrounding those who abuse drugs. Admitting to an opioid addiction incurs many harmful preconceptions.1 Fentanyl, a powerful synthetic street opioid, is now the drug of choice for many, because of its high potency and ability to give users a high that is 50 to 100 times stronger than most other opioids, including morphine and heroin. Created in a low-profile laboratory in the 1950s, illicit fentanyl has infiltrated a multitude of countries, developed and developing, resulting 1 “Information sheet on opioid overdose.” World Health Organization, August 21, 2018.

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in devastating effects. It is extremely cheap, highly potent, readily available, and easy to use. In Narva, Estonia—a small Russian-speaking city of roughly 60,000 on the border with Russia—fentanyl’s destructive effects have left a visible impact. Socially and economically, fentanyl has taken hold of this city and has subsequently spread into all parts of the country, thereby rendering Estonia in an epidemic status. This is especially true for the city’s ethnic Russian population, whom the crisis has hit the hardest. This paper will explore Narva’s struggle with the epidemic and analyze fentanyl’s effects on the social identity of the city’s ethnic Russian population, while also looking at the path forward for Estonia. There does not exist much literature about this crisis, and therefore the objective of this analysis is to shed light on Narva’s struggle with fentanyl and how addiction can affect collective identity. Narva, Estonia: The Epicenter of Europe’s Opioid Crisis Estonia, one of the three Baltic nations located in Northeastern Europe, is the epicenter of the European opioid epidemic. Fentanyl, the most popular opiate in Estonia, is abused most within the country’s ethnic Russian population in the Ida-Viru

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region, in which Narva is located.2,3,4,5 Fentanyl entered Estonia initially in Narva, which sits on the border with Russia. Narva became an intermediary for the opiate from the East to the West. The drug was distributed to local dealers, who then sold it to users across the city. Residents of Narva fell victim to one of the deadliest drugs on the market.6,7,8,9 Narva, Estonia’s third-largest city, has a complex history. As a victim of Soviet bombings and deportation initiatives, Narva was destroyed during World War II, and then rebuilt in the 1940s in classic Soviet style, removing the city’s once culture-filled baroque architecture, which Soviet officials deemed unnecessary and out of line with the government’s plans to establish a single unit of Slavic culture. Ethnic Russians were then moved into the city during this era, rendering it a Russian-occupied municipality within Estonia.10 Once the Soviet Union fell and Estonia gained independence, the city was alienated from the rest of Estonia due to its lack of linguistic, cultural, and 2 Downes, Paul. “LIVING WITH HEROIN: Identity, Social Exclusion and HIV among the Russian-speaking Minorities in Estonia and Latvia.” Legal Information Centre for Human Rights, 2003. 3 “European Drug Report 2019: Trends and Developments.” Lisbon, Portugal: European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction, 2019. 4 Pardo, Bryce, Jirka Taylor, Jonathan P. Caulkins, Beau Kilmer, Peter Reuter, and Bradley D. Stein. “The Future of Fentanyl and Other Synthetic Opioids.” Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 2019. 5 Mounteney, J., Giraudon, I., Denissov, G., & Griffiths, P. “Fentanyls: Are we missing the signs? Highly potent and on the rise in Europe [Abstract].” International Journal of Drug Policy, July 2015, 26(7). 6 “Estonia Country Overview.” European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction, 19 May 2016. 7 Europol. “Amphetamine-type stimulants in the European Union 1998–2007, Europol contribution to the Expert Consultations For the UNGASS assessment, The Hague, 2007. 8 Oole K, Talu A, Vals K, Paimre M, Ahven A, Neuman A,Denissov G, Abel K. “National Report to the EMCDDA: report on the drug situation in Estonia 2006.” National Institute for Health Development, Tallinn, 2006. 9 Pardo, Bryce et al., 2019. “The Future of Fentanyl and Other Synthetic Opioids.” 10 Mertelsmann, Olaf, and Aigi Rahi-Tamm. 2009. “Soviet Mass Violence in Estonia Revisited.” Journal of Genocide Research 11 (2/3): 307–22.

historical connections to the nation. The ethnic Russian population around Narva did not even support Estonia’s statehood in the early 1990s. In fact, they demanded autonomy for the region at the time. These demands did not have much of an effect, however, since the city remained territorially part of Estonia.11 And because of naturalization policies in the 1990s that made it difficult for Russians to obtain citizenship in Estonia, many residents of Narva have gray passports that signify their statelessness. That is, they are neither citizens of Russia nor Estonia and have no national identity on which to establish a connection to either state. They resort to their linguistic and cultural connections to their ancestry, which tie them back to Russia. As such, Narva is in Estonia on the map but is culturally from Russia. Narva is home to the lowest income per capita in the country—it is the only region with an average gross income of less than 1,000 euros per month. In fact, Narva’s average salary is nearly 400 euros less than the national average, which stands at approximately 1,300 euros.12 And though unemployment has been decreasing in Estonia in recent years—with a national average of 5 percent—this has not been the case for Narva, where unemployment is at approximately 12 percent and continues to increase due to a lack of a growing, secure industry. Narva relies predominantly on blue-collar work, such as textile manufacturing, mining, and staffing at local power plants.13 Fentanyl was not the drug of 11 Faure, Gunter & Mensing, Teresa. “The Estonians: The long road to independence.” Lulu, 2012. p. 23. ISBN 9781105530036. 12 Hankewitz, Sten. “Estonia’s Average Monthly Income Is on the Rise.” Estonian World, May 15, 2019. 13 “Why Narva?” Narva 2024. Accessed November 26, 2019. https://narva2024.ee/en/why-narva.

choice in Narva until the early 2000s. It rose to this position after the fall of the heroin market due to droughts and U.S. military action in Afghanistan. Fentanyl filled the vacuum heroin left, and Russian-speaking organized crime groups in Estonia facilitated its deadly arrival.14 The drug gripped the lives of its users, weakened the region’s economy, and brought down the overall spirit of the city.15 Fentanyl also provided a platform for crime, and Narva now holds the highest rates of crime in the country.16 Largely due to Narva’s fentanyl addiction, Estonia has also had the most drug-induced deaths in all of Europe since illicit fentanyl began to enter Estonian borders.17,18,19,20 The high rate of fentanyl abuse has yielded devastating side effects, reaching even non-users. The sharing of hypodermic needles among users led to the outbreak of HIV/AIDS in Estonia. Initially contracted from needles, the virus was able to quickly move from town to town, through sexual interactions and other methods of bodily fluid exchanges.21 Approximately half of the country’s regular drug users are infected with HIV/AIDS and many carriers are unaware of it, since 14 Pardo, Bryce et al., 2019. “The Future of Fentanyl and Other Synthetic Opioids.” 15 Sárosi, P. “Repressive Drug Policies Fuel Overdoses in Estonia – An Interview with Mart Kalvet.” Drug Reporter, November 20, 2017. 16 “Estonia 2019 Crime & Safety Report.” OSAC, April 1, 2019. 17 “European Drug Report 2017.” Lisbon, Portugal: European Monitoring Center for Drugs and ` Drug Addiction, 2017. 18 Armstrong, M. “Infographic: Drug deaths in Europe.” Statista, July 18, 2017. https://www.statista.com/ chart/10320/drug-deaths-in-europe/ 19 “European Drug Report 2019: Trends and Developments.” Lisbon, Portugal: European Monitoring Center for Drugs and Drug Addiction, 2019. 20 Kalikova, Nelli, Aljona Kurbatova, and Ave Talu. “Estonia Children and Adolescents Involved in Drug Use and Trafficking: A Rapid Assessment.” Geneva: International Programme on the Elimination of Child Labour, June 2002. PDF. 21 Downes, Paul. “Social Exclusion, Ethnicity and HIV in Estonia: A Case for a Visit from the UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Health ?” St. Patrick’s College, 26 Nov. 2010.

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symptoms only begin, on average, five years or more after the virus is contracted. As a result, people unknowingly transfer this infection.22 Estonia’s HIV/AIDS epidemic started in Narva almost two decades ago, around the same time fentanyl first appeared. Victims of the HIV epidemic in St. Petersburg, which began in November 1999, traveled to Narva as the outbreak worsened. This, in combination with Estonia’s challenging economic situation and high unemployment, allowed fentanyl use and HIV infection to spread rapidly.23 Once in Narva, HIV/AIDS quickly spread to the rest of Estonia’s population.24 At the end of 2017, nearly 9,500 HIV cases had been reported in Estonia since 1998, an alarming statistic for a country of approximately 1.3 million.25Fentanyl use in Estonia is disproportionately found among the ancestrally Russian minority: approximately 90 percent of fentanyl addicts in Estonia are Russians.26,27,28 Fentanyl is likely more readily available in Russian-speaking communities, such as Narva, because the mid-level traffickers are mostly Russian-speaking.29 The HIV/AIDS epidemic is concentrated in the predominantly Russian Ida-Viru county, which remains a hotbed for opioid use and needle sharing. This region has the highest rate of infections in the country, reinforcing the fact that most HIV-affected individuals in Estonia are Russians. And, since many

22 Joost, Kai. “Estonia Takes Action on Record-level AIDS Rate.” Baltic Reports, July 8, 2010. 23 Downes, Paul. 2010. “The Right to Health ?” 24 Joost, Kai. 2010. “Estonia Takes Action on AIDS Rate.” 25 “HIV in Estonia: Narrative report for Global AIDS Monitoring 2017.” National Institute for Health Develoment, Tallinn, 2017. 26 Downes, Paul, 2003. “Living with Heroin.” 27 Amundsen, Michael. “Why Is ‘China White’ Killing Estonia’s Russian Speakers?” The Christian Science Monitor, October 16, 2013. 28 Pardo, Bryce et al., 2019. “The Future of Fentanyl and Other Synthetic Opioids.” 29 Sárosi, P, 2017. “Repressive Drug Policies.”

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HIV/AIDS sufferers remain unreported, there is no way to effectively gauge just how many are affected, complicating efforts to alleviate the epidemic. Every year, roughly 300 new cases of HIV/AIDS are diagnosed in Estonia.30,31 The Estonian government has initiated programs to curb the outbreak and help those who are affected by HIV/ AIDS, such as its efforts to encourage testing by making STD tests free to the public.32 Although accessible and free treatment is available in Estonia, social stigma discourages users from seeking treatment.33 Fentanyl’s Effect on the Collective Identity The fentanyl epidemic and its collateral effects with HIV/AIDS have resulted in many Estonians having a negative opinion toward Narva and actively avoiding the city. It operates separately from Estonian language, culture, and lifestyle. This brings into question the identity of Narva’s ancestrally Russian population: how do they view themselves? Many citizens of Narva, though living in Estonia, feel economically and culturally alienated from the rest of the country. Because of linguistic barriers, their lives are restricted to the Ida-Viru region, and therefore they have little

30 “10 Years of HIV Research in Estonia: Typical HIV-Positive Lives in Tallinn or Northeastern Estonia, Speaks Russian.” ERR, May 18, 2015. https://news.err. ee/115875/10-years-of-hiv-research-in-estonia-typical-hiv-positivelives-in-tallinn-or-northeastern-estonia-speaks-russian. 31 Biehl, Joao. “Will to Live: Aids Therapies and the Politics of Survival.” Princeton: Princeton UP, 2007. 32 “HIV in Estonia: Narrative report for Global AIDS Monitoring 2017.” National Institute for Health Development, Tallinn, 2017. 33 “10 Years of HIV Research in Estonia: Typical HIV-Positive Lives in Tallinn or Northeastern Estonia, Speaks Russian.” ERR, May 18, 2015. https://news.err. ee/115875/10-years-of-hiv-research-in-estonia-typical-hiv-positivelives-in-tallinn-or-northeastern-estonia-speaks-russian.

connection with the rest of the country. They suffer from so-called “impostor syndrome,” perceiving themselves as second-rate citizens. Citizenship laws and polarized politicians have augmented such sentiments, because they reinforce the idea that these ethnic Russians, though living in the country, are not truly “Estonian.” Ethnic Russians develop low rates of self-esteem, beginning a cycle difficult to escape.34 This concept of impostor syndrome helps to explain why ethnic Russians in Estonia use fentanyl and other opioids at a rate significantly higher than their ethnic Estonian counterparts, who do not experience these layers of integrational struggle. For the vast majority of the city’s youth, life in Narva is influenced by several risk factors: a high unemployment rate, low average income, and high rates of violence.35,3637 Because of this, these individuals are considered members of a vulnerable social group—another factor that fuels drug use—and it is no surprise then that the majority of opioid users in Estonia are younger males in their twenties.38 Juvenile delinquency continues to be a problem in the city, especially due to the lack of social programs and activities to occupy young people’s time.39 This increases the trouble for the city, because if young people

are predisposed to

34 Kalikova, Nelli, et al., 2002. “Estonia Children and Adolescents Involved in Drugs.” 35 “Cost of Living in Estonia.” Numbeo. Accessed November, 2019. 36 Eremeyev, S. “Estonia’s Narva: Caught between two worlds?” Open Democracy, October 18, 2017. 37 Why Narva?” Narva 2024. Accessed November 26, 2019. https://narva2024.ee/en/why-narva. 38 “Estonia Country Drug Report 2019.” European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction, 2019. 39 “Reinsalu: To help young people, social programs must also be made available in Ida-Virumaa.” Delfi, September 8, 2018.

crime at a young age, then it is likely they will carry that into their adulthood later. This sense of vulnerability and the complex relationship with identity has established a complicated path for Narva’s residents—a phenomenon referred to as the youth’s “hopeless reality.” Many feel like a generation on the margins of Estonian society, lacking a common language and culture, with greater levels of stress and lower levels of confidence than Estonians. They also have fewer ways to spend their time, since work is more difficult to find as a Russian speaker not proficient in Estonian, which is the case for many in the city. This group often underperforms in the classroom, as well, compared to Estonians, making it difficult for them to access the necessary professional and educational tools to ameliorate their situation. The use of opioids, such as fentanyl, has become a source of escape.40 The feeling of a hopeless reality permeates through many generations of Russians, not only the youth. Their seclusion feels exacerbated, their economic and social status seems further tainted, and their situation in the country then appears even worse: all thoughts that contribute to a greater sense of isolation from the rest of Estonia, inhibiting social integration. The Path Forward for Estonia As an ongoing epidemic, the Estonian government has allocated time and resources to counter the fentanyl outbreak among its Russian-speaking citizens. The country’s top ministry officials have been working to create needle exchange programs, improve rehab centers, 40 Kalikova, Nelli, et al., 2002. “Estonia Children and Adolescents Involved in Drugs.”

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and deter fentanyl’s legacy in their country, in order to prevent its dispersion and proliferation to surrounding countries.41,42 Ministry officials from the departments of Social Affairs, Education, Public Health, Justice, and Crime Labs, for example, are a few of those involved in the discussion on how to lessen the drug’s impact on the country. Recognizing that police are just a means of harm reduction, government officials want to get at the root of the problem. Education Ministry officials argue that drug safety in schools will tackle the problem at its core. Officials want to change people’s innate way of thinking about the drug, especially among minors. They hope to set a precedent that teaches all people of the country— Estonians and Russians—that this drug destroys lives. For residents of Narva and the people of the rest of Estonia, the path forward is optimistic, but fentanyl has manifested itself into Estonian society such that its effects will be felt for decades to come. This means that fentanyl will still be at large, even if its use decreases. Government officials are forced to allocate large amounts of capital to tackle the problem, deterring investments in other sectors of the state, such as education or infrastructural development. Also, all relevant departments are needed to work collaboratively: education, crime, public health, social affairs, and many more. During times of crisis, this work will put a strain on the economy. Looking ahead for Estonia, there 41 Hoskins, R. “What Canada can learn from tiny Estonia’s huge fentanyl problem.” The Globe and Mail, June 17, 2016. 42 Mounteney, J., et al., 2015. “Fentanyls: Are we missing the signs?”

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are many options to continue to deconstruct the impact of fentanyl. Mainly, the state will need to improve its integrative policies for the Russian community, giving it better access to the tools required for a successful and safe life. This would signal to the country’s Russian population that the Estonian government cares about it and would like to see its condition improve. For example, schools can establish new curricula to address the alienation that many of the Russian speakers in Narva feel. A sense of inclusion would be introduced at a young age. And in deconstructing the notions of a “hopeless reality” and “impostor syndrome,” a sense of unity can be established among all Estonians, producing a more politically, socially, and economically cohesive state. For instance, the current Estonian president, Kersti Kaljulaid, moved her office to Narva for parts of the fall of 2018 to better understand the city’s situation and its people, so that she could more effectively address the issues they face. Her stint in the city was aimed at breaking down some of the ingrained prejudices held by Estonians, who see the whole of Ida-Viru County as a desolate and backward region. Additionally, the president’s presence in the city intended to promote government investment, as well, to increase attention given to the city as part of Estonia’s cultural scene.43 Medically, hospitals can strive to continue to develop more effective drug treatment programs, which not only help addicts get off drugs but also ensure that they stay off drugs. Such a bidirectional support system seeks not only to end indi43 Cavegn, D. “GALLERY | President starts her week in Narva.” ERR, August 29, 2018.

vidual cases of drug use in the short term but also to eliminate drug use in general in the long-term. A well-developed program—which also aims to anatomize the layers of stigmatization of opioid abuse, paving a more welcoming, accessible path to treatment—would decrease the amount of drug users. In disrupting the sale and purchase of the drug, the market itself for fentanyl will decrease, causing the producers to lose significant amounts of capital. Producers and dealers will be forced out and unable to continue selling the drug in the region. Police and other law enforcement agencies can continue to aggressively investigate, locate, and shut down domestic producing and dealing, as shown by the country’s mid-2017 bust on its first-ever known domestic fentanyl lab, whose leader—identified by authorities as Harju county IT businessman Aleksander A.—is believed to be responsible for the circulation of at least 54 kilograms of fentanyl in Estonia.44 That being said, law enforcement needs to mitigate and be wary of actions that may result in the stigmatization of the victims of addiction and instead focus their efforts on the root of the problem. For instance, strict prosecutions for dealers could set a precedent, highlighting that there are tangible, substantial repercussions for those who traffic and distribute the drug, deterring future involvement in drug-related crime. The government does not have to be the only actor in this fight. The private sector can help, too. Small Estonian businesses and larger corporations can work collaboratively to fund 44 Kund, O. “Historical moment: Fentanyl business halted.” Postimees, December 6, 2017.

programs through foundations and other philanthropic efforts, aimed at promoting education and awareness of the crisis. In promoting an environment of continual deterrence, it is important for affected communities to work in conjunction with each other, in order to analyze greater trends and policies that have proven successful in reducing the drug’s presence. Above all, however, it is most important that countries, communities, and individuals constantly pay close attention to the emergence of drugs in vulnerable, at-risk populations, in order to implement preventive measures to ensure that the dissemination and proliferation of similar drugs are not so widespread.45 Fighting a crisis that has permeated Estonia’s society requires challenging, taxing, and demanding solutions to halt its further growth. In maintaining a critical eye on possible drug crises, governments and communities can, to the best of their ability, attempt to deter and divert this drug’s—and similar drugs’—arrival in their societies and cultures, so that they can avoid the challenges that Estonian society faces with the epidemic.

45 Mounteney, J., et al., 2015. “Fentanyls: Are we missing the signs?”

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The reproductive healthcare systems of Ukraine and Romania greatly suffered under communist regimes. While Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union, citizens were forced to abide by conservative pronatalist policies that banned contraceptives and abortion. The authoritarian Romanian government also outlawed contraceptives and abortions, but enforced harsher policies by augmenting the presence of the police and government in women’s reproductive lives. When communism was dismantled, the governments of Ukraine and Romania worked to reverse the detrimental effects of pronatalism. A major step the Romanian government took was joining the European Union (EU). However, even though it has been decades since the fall of communism in Ukraine and Romania, there are still major disparities between these countries’ reproductive healthcare systems and those of peer nations. Ukraine and Romania have some of the highest maternal and infant mortalities of all EU countries, and the lack of equal access to sexual health in Ukraine is staggering. Despite the steps that each country took since communism, it is evident that progress still needs to be made.

The goal of Soviet Ukrainian healthcare was to be free and universal, allowing everyone equal access to all services.1,2 However, these services disregarded the health needs of women, since they denied them access to reproductive care including contraceptives.3 The Soviet government banned these methods because it wanted to increase the nation’s population after World War II.4 By doing so, the Soviet government asserted their control over citizens by promoting these harsh pronatalist policies.5 Not only did women experience restricted access to contraceptives and sterilization, but they also lacked the knowledge about how to effectively prevent pregnancies.6 This could be due to the lack of comprehensive sexual education. Without this knowledge, couples relied on traditional family planning mea1 Balabanova, Dina, Martin McKee, Joceline Pomerleau, Richard Rose, and Christian Haerpfer. “Health Service Utilization in the Former Soviet Union: Evidence from Eight Countries.” Health Services Research 39, no. 6p2 (2004): 1927–50. 2 Cockerham, William C., Brian P. Hinote, Geoffrey B. Cockerham, and Pamela Abbott. “Health Lifestyles and Political Ideology in Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine.” Social Science & Medicine 62, no. 7 (April 1, 2006): 1799–1809. 3 Popov, A. A. “Family Planning in the USSR. Sky-High Abortion Rates Reflect Dire Lack of Choice.” Entre Nous (Copenhagen, Denmark), no. 16 (September 1990): 5–7. 4 Harper, P. B. “Family Planning in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union: Are Things Changing?” AVSC News (Association for Voluntary Surgical Contraception (U.S.)) 28, no. 1 (April 1990): 6–7. 5 Popov, “Family Planning in the USSR,” 1990: 5–7. 6 Ibid.

sures, such as following the rhythm of the menstrual cycle and using the withdrawal method, also known as coitus interruptus.7 However, following the menstrual cycle and the withdrawal method were not reliable family planning strategies, since they are not effective in preventing pregnancies.8,9 Due to the restricted access to contraceptives, women turned to abortions. In 1936, the Soviet government banned abortions, which resulted in increased rates of illegal abortions.10,11 This was because this was the only available family planning method.12 With the current historical data, it is estimated that the 6.5 million yearly abortions in the Soviet Union accounted for 10-20% of all abortions worldwide within the year 1988 alone.13 These high rates of abortion emphasize the limited access to reproductive care, such as the lack of access to contraceptives and sterilization, contributed to these high numbers in Soviet Ukraine. After noting the increase in illegal abortions, government officials lifted the ban in 1954.14 Despite this, illegal abortion rates continued to increase.15 After legalization, abortions became the main form of family planning.16 The 7 Remennick, Larissa I. “Epidemology and Determinants of Induced Abortion in the U.S.S.R.” Social Science & Medicine 33, no. 7 (January 1, 1991): 841–48. https://doi.org/10.1016/02779536(91)90389-T. 8 Planned Parenthood, “What Is the Calendar Method?” Accessed October 26, 2019. 9 Planned Parenthood, “What is the Effectiveness of the Pull Out Method?” Accessed October 26, 2019. 10 Ibid. 11 Rivkin-Fish, Michele. “Legacies of 1917 in Contemporary Russian Public Health: Addiction, HIV, and Abortion.” American Journal of Public Health 107, no. 11 (November 2017): 1731–35. 12 Popov, “Family Planning in the USSR,” 1990: 5–7. 13 Ibid. 14 Rivkin-Fish, “Legacies of 1917.” 2017. 15 Ibid. 16 Remennick, Larissa I. “Epidemology and Determinants of Induced Abortion in the U.S.S.R.” Social Science & Medicine 33, no. 7 (January 1, 1991): 841–48.

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high rates of abortion and low rates of contraceptive use contributed to the rise of so-called “abortion culture.”17 Even though abortions were legal, women either attended unsanitary facilities to receive the procedures or performed them themselves.18,19,20 As a result, there was an upsurge in abortion-related maternal mortality rates.21 It can be inferred that the Soviet government tried promoting population growth by banning abortions and restricting contraceptives access. But the ban on abortions contributed to increased mortality rates, thus shrinking the population.22 The pronatalist policies of outlawing abortion and contraceptives contributed to high maternal mortality rates, revealing how poor the reproductive health system was in Soviet Ukraine. Like the Soviet government, the Romanian government also enforced strict pronatalist policies during the communist era. However, Nicolae Ceaușescu, the communist dictator of Romania, implemented more controlling reproductive policies by increasing governmental involvement in female reproductive care.23 He believed that any fetus conceived by Romanians was the property of society and thus there was a heavy emphasis on women to uphold their nationalistic duty through childbearing.24,25 Those who rejected this duty were considered to be going against Romanian ideals.26,27 He developed a plan to increase the population size, since infant mortality rates increased and birth rates significantly decreased after World War II.28,29 Ceaușescu’s plan included restricting access to contraceptives and abortions, since these methods conflicted with his pronatalist ideals.30 30 Stephenson, P, M Wagner, M Badea, and F Serbanescu. “Commentary: The Public Health Consequences of Restricted Induced

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To enforce these regulations, Ceaușescu legally enforced employed women to undergo reproductive examinations every month.31 Women who refused to undergo these exams were denied medical and dental care, as well as social security pensions.32 If couples were married longer than two years, had no children, and lacked medical proof of infertility, they were required to pay more taxes.33 Ceaușescu enforced these harsh policies to instill fear into citizens, so they would abide by his pronatalist laws to avoid punishment. These policies proved to be successful in promoting birth rates, increasing them from 14.3 births per 1,000 women in 1957 to 27.4 births per 1,000 women in 1967.34,35 The police were also heavily involved in female reproductive life.36 The increased police presence was Ceaușescu’s way of not only enforcing his strict pronatalist policies but also instilling fear in citizens so they would abide by his laws. Police officers were stationed at every obstetrical-gynecological clinic and maternity ward to investigate illegal abortions.37 Women who underwent illegal abortions risked incarceration, and physicians who performed them risked prison time and losing their medical license.38 These strict policies, fear of punishment through the police state, and feelings of apprehension towards healthcare facilities resulted in women avoiding Abortion—Lessons from Romania.” American Journal of Public Health 82, no. 10 (October 1, 1992): 1328–31.. 31 Stephenson, P, et al. “Lessons from Romania.” 1992. 32 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 33 Ibid. 34 David, Henry P. Abortion Research: International Experience. DC Health & Co., 1974. 35 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 36 Ibid. 37 Ibid. 38 David, Henry P. Abortion Research: International Experience. 1974.

hospitals.39 The fact that women avoided healthcare facilities indicates how they not only developed fear and disdain towards health services, but also how they were more willing to risk complications when taking their health into their own hands. Due to the increased involvement of the police and Romanian government in health facilities, women felt unsafe receiving professional medical care.40 They chose to take control of their reproductive health by performing at-home abortions.41 By doing so, women often risked injury, since they lacked adequate medical knowledge when performing these invasive procedures.42 While performing self-induced abortions, women could suffer from abdominal sepsis and post-abortion hemorrhages.43 As a result, there was an increased rate of abortion-related maternal mortality from 1966 to 1984, ten times greater than that of any other European country.44 The rise in abortion-related increased mortalities emphasizes the detrimental effects of Ceaușescu’s pronatalist policies;,Ceaușescu’s regulations decreased the quality of healthcare.45 Ukraine and Romania both suffered under harsh pronatalist policies during authoritarian rule. Both the Soviet government and Ceaușescu banned abortions and restricted access to contraceptives to promote population growth.46,47,48 39 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid. 42 Ibid. 43 Stephenson, P., et al. “Lessons from Romania.” 1992. 44 Ibid. 45 Ibid. 46 Harper, “Family Planning.” 1990. 47 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 48 Stephenson, P, et al. “Lessons from Romania.” 1992.

However, these policies proved to be detrimental to population growth, since they increased maternal mortality rates in both countries.49,50 Compared to the Soviet Ukrainian government, the Romanian government enforced stricter pronatalist policies. They did this by requiring women to undergo monthly reproductive exams and requiring married couples without children to pay more taxes.51 After communism dissolved, both countries’ governments worked to overturn these policies, such as legalizing abortion and making contraceptives more accessible.52,53,54,55 Despite these strides, the reproductive healthcare systems of Ukraine and Romania still suffer to this day. After the Soviet Union dissolved, major initiatives were implemented to improve Ukrainian reproductive healthcare, such as legalizing abortion and promoting access to contraceptives.56,57Abortion rates significantly increased, surpassing live births by 1.5 times until 1988.58 After the legalization of contraceptives, there was an increase in their use from 37.6% to 47.5% among married women from 1999 to 2007.59,60 Further, The National 49 “Health in Europe.” WHO Regional Publications, European Series (56), 1991. 50 Popov, “Family Planning in the USSR.” 1990. 51 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 52 Stephenson, P., et al. “Lessons from Romania.” 1992. 53 Levcuk, N., and B. Perelli-Harris. “MPIDR - Declining Fertility in Ukraine: What Is the Role of Abortion and Contraception?” Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research. Accessed October 21, 2019. 54 Gal, Susan and Gail Kligman. Reproducing Gender: Politics, Publics, and Everyday Life After Socialism. Princeton University Press, 2000. 55 Rada, Cornelia. “Sexual Behaviour and Sexual and Reproductive Health Education: A Cross-Sectional Study in Romania.” Reproductive Health 11, no. 1 (June 23, 2014): 48. 56 Stephenson, P, et al. “Lessons from Romania.” 1992. 57 Max Planck Institute for Demographic Research, “Declining Fertility in Ukraine.” 2019. 58 Ibid. 59 UCSR (Ukrainian Center for Social Reforms), State Statistical Committee (SSC), and Ministry of Health (MOH) of Ukraine, and Macro International. “Ukraine Demographic and Health Survey 2007.” September 1, 2008. 60 USAID Demographic & Health Survey. “Ukraine Reproductive Health Survey 1999.” Accessed November 4, 2019.

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Programs on Reproductive Health and Planning established facilities that offered resources on family planning and ways for men and women to improve their overall health.61,62 These health initiatives attest to how the Ukrainian government took active steps to improve reproductive healthcare by making it more accessible to both men and women. The dismantling of communism and pronatalist policies in Soviet Ukraine empowered female activists to advocate for better reproductive care.63 To combat conservative policies, Ukrainian women founded non-governmental organizations to support funding for reproductive healthcare, equal rights policies, and access to contraceptives.64 Women asserted their reproductive rights by publicly protesting against pronatalist laws and by becoming more involved with governmental issues after the fall of the Soviet Union.65 A prominent all-female federated organization founded was the Confederation of Women in Ukraine, which promoted the legal rights of women.66 Policymakers responded to women’s concerns by adding a clause to the Ukrainian constitution that guarantees gender equality, which emphasizes how the government was more receptive to women’s opinions and reproductive health.67 It can be inferred that these new policies promoted reproductive rights, because they contradicted the former Soviet gender policies aimed for women 61 Steshenko, V., and Irkina, T. “Some Aspects of the Demographic Situation in Ukraine: Reproductive Health and Family Planning.” Kiev, Ukraine: United Nations, 1999. 62 WHO. “The Right to Health,” 2008. 63 Hrycak, Alexandra. “The Dilemmas of Civic Revival: Ukrainian Women since Independence.” Journal of Ukrainian Studies 26 (January 1, 2001). 64 Hrycak, Alexandra. “The Dilemmas of Civic Revival.” 2001. 65 Ibid. 66 Ibid. 67 Ibid.

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to play the traditional role of a domestic mother through childbearing, so they could increase birth rates.68 However, despite the women’s rights movement and initiatives to reverse pronatalist policies, some Ukrainian lawmakers today still try to continue the communist legacy of restricting forms of reproductive healthcare. They have done this by submitting a proposal to make abortions illegal, thus limiting women’s access to reproductive care.69 Even though it has taken steps in the past to overturn pronatalist communist policies, the Ukrainian government and health system still has work to do make reproductive care more accessible to women. A 2015 study conducted by Ivanova and his colleagues further emphasizes how Ukraine still struggles with its reproductive care system since the dismantling of the Soviet Union in 1991. The researchers found that Ukraine ranked the lowest in terms of reproductive health policies in comparison with Spain and Scotland, two EU countries with successful reproductive healthcare laws.70 Ukraine also had the fewest core concept coverages compared to these countries for reproductive and sexual healthcare, which help guarantee equal healthcare access to everyone.71 These concepts included “cultural responsiveness,” “access,” and “non-discrimination” 68 Gal, Susan and Gail Kligman. Reproducing Gender. 2000. 69 Ruban, Kateryna. “Protecting the Right to Abortion in Ukraine – World Policy.” (May 2, 2017). Accessed October 30, 2019. 70 Ivanova, Olena, Tania Dræbel, and Siri Tellier. “Are Sexual and Reproductive Health Policies Designed for All? Vulnerable Groups in Policy Documents of Four European Countries and Their Involvement in Policy Development.” International Journal of Health Policy and Management 4, no. 10 (August 12, 2015): 663–71. 71 Ivanova, Olena et al. “Vulnerable Groups in Policy Documents.” 2015.

in healthcare services.72 By not including these ideas, policymakers were vague in identifying who vulnerable populations were, thus not giving them explicit rights to reproductive healthcare.73 In other words, this lack of protection represents a health disparity within the Ukrainian reproductive healthcare system. Ivanova’s study emphasizes how, even though the Ukrainian government made strides in improving the reproductive healthcare system, there are still health inequities present in the nation’s policies. Like Ukraine, the Romanian government also worked to reverse the authoritarian legacy of pronatalism after the fall of communism. After Ceaușescu was overthrown in 1989, the government took initiatives to transform reproductive health policies.74 These initiatives included legalizing and promoting the use of modern contraceptives.75 This resulted in an increased use of contraceptives among women.76 The Romanian government also legalized abortions.77 Women considered this policy liberating, since they felt they had more control over their bodies and were no longer under the constrictions of pronatalist laws.78 Abortion became popularly perceived as a safe and acceptable family planning method.79 Abortion was no longer viewed as an illegal act that had to be performed in secret to avoid punishment. The surge in women seeking professional medical care emphasized how they started trusting healthcare facilities more, 72 Ibid. 73 Ibid. 74 Ibid. 75 Rada, Cornelia. “Sexual Behaviour and Health Education in Romania.” 2014. 76 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 77 Gal, Susan and Gail Kligman. Reproducing Gender. 2000. 78 Ibid. 79 Ibid.

rather than viewing them with apprehension as they had during Ceaușescu’s regime.80 The legalization of and increased access to abortion and contraceptives indicate how reproductive care became more available to women after 1989. Another step the Romanian government took to reverse the detrimental effects of authoritarian policies, as well as to foster democracy, was joining the EU in 2007.81 Reversing these authoritarian policies could include dismantling the pronatalist and misogynistic laws that dominated the Romanian reproductive healthcare system during Ceaușescu rule. Countries within the EU, such as Spain and Scotland, have strong reproductive healthcare policies, because they protect vulnerable populations.82 Citizens within EU countries are also more satisfied with their healthcare systems than those in non-EU countries, because they have better healthcare quality and treatment.83 Further, EU policymakers are dedicated to improving healthcare, because they create laws that combat social disparities and promote accessible services.84 When Romania joined the EU, its healthcare system had a chance to improve and deliver better reproductive care and overall patient satisfaction. However, even after joining the EU, Romanian citizens were still dissatisfied with their reproductive healthcare 80 Hord, Charlotte, et al. “Reproductive Health in Romania.” 1991. 81 Ram, Melanie H. “Minority Relations in Multiethnic Societies: Assessing the European Union Factor in Romania,” 2001. 82 Ivanova, Olena et al. “Vulnerable Groups in Policy Documents.” 2015. 83 Murgu, Alina, Gabriela Boldureanu, Laura Pricop Ciubotarasu, Ana Iolanda Voda, and Carmen Luiza Costuleanu. “The Quality of the Healthcare Services in Romania in Comparison with EU: An Approach from the Perspective of Patient, Doctor and Hospital Management.” Bulletin of Integrative Psychiatry, September 1, 2017. 84 European Union. “EU Health Policy.” Public Health - European Commission, Nov. 25, 2016.

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system.85 One 2017 study found that Romanians did not trust their healthcare systems or the quality of care, because they viewed it as suboptimal.86 The cost of medicine and unequal access to services also contributed to Romanians’ dissatisfaction with the healthcare system.87 Thus, joining the EU was not an instant fix to the Romanian reproductive healthcare system, and it is evident that citizens still want improvement. The 2017 EU Health Report further emphasizes the poor quality of reproductive healthcare in Romania today. It states that the country has the highest infant and maternal mortality rates of all countries in the EU.88 To lower these rates, it is imperative that more efforts are implemented to improve reproductive healthcare.89,90 Various initiatives were developed to combat these rising mortality rates. Romania’s National Health Strategy was created to increase access to health services in disadvantaged regions, while the National Authority for Quality Management in Healthcare was established to increase the accessibility of medicine among Romanian citizens.91 Further, the United Nations Committee on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights (UN CESCR) required that the Romanian government to revise its policies to guarantee reproductive healthcare access for women.92 85 Murgu, Alina et al. “The Quality of Healthcare in Romania.” 2017. 86 Ibid. 87 European Union. “State of Health in the EU: Romania Country Profile, 2017.” Public Health - European Commission, Nov. 25, 2016. 88 Ibid. 89 Onofrei, Lidia. “The Romanian National Health Strategy 20142020: ‘Health for Prosperity’ - Community Medical Assistance.” International Journal of Integrated Care 14 (May 26, 2014). 90 European Union, “State of Health in the EU: Romania Country Profile, 2017.” 2016. 91 Ibid. 92 U.N., “U.N. Committee Denounces Romania for Denying Women Reproductive Health Care,” 2019. Accessed November 9, 2019.

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For Romania to continue its membership within the EU, the country’s government needs to create policies that protect the sexual and reproductive rights of its citizens.93 The UN working with the Romanian government exemplifies how being a member of the EU has been beneficial to the country’s sexual and reproductive healthcare system. Despite the disparities present in the current Romanian reproductive healthcare system, there is still some hope for it to improve and flourish. Since its founding, the EU has developed various policies that target improving all aspects of the health of its citizens. For example, the EU Health Programme was created to promote community health through improving the quality of the healthcare system.94 Romania took massive strides to dismantle communism and to improve reproductive health care policies by joining the EU in 2007. On the contrary, former Ukrainian President Yanukovych denied the offer for Ukraine to join the Union.95 Since Ukraine is not part of the EU, citizens are not privileged to the reproductive health services and benefits like the EU nations. All countries within the EU are encouraged to join the EU Health Programme, so they can receive funding to improve their respective healthcare systems.96 Since Ukraine is not part of the EU, it is ineligible to participate, and does not receive the same protections as countries within the Union. Arguably, joining the EU would be beneficial to Ukraine. This is because the country’s reproductive healthcare 93 Ibid. 94 European Union. “EU Health Programme.” Public Health European Commission, Nov. 25, 2016. 95 “Politics of Brutal Pressure.” The Economist, November 22, 2013. 96 European Union, “EU Health Programme.” 2016.

policies do not protect the reproductive rights of its citizens.97 It is evident that the Ukrainian government still needs to take active steps in improving reproductive healthcare and joining the EU may be the first step in doing so. Overall, there are similarities between the reproductive healthcare systems of Ukraine and Romania. During the communist era, both countries suffered under strict pronatalist policies that banned effective forms of family planning, such as contraceptives and abortion. These policies proved to be detrimental to population health, since they contributed to increased rates of abortion-related infections and mortalities. When communism was dismantled in both countries, the Ukrainian and Romanian governments legalized abortions and increased access to contraceptives. Romania took an active step to better its government and healthcare by joining the EU. On the contrary, Ukraine is not part of the EU, and still suffers from poor reproductive healthcare policies. Even though it has been years since both countries escaped the grips of communism, major disparities are still present in their reproductive healthcare systems and work still needs to be done for improvement.

97 Ivanova, Olena et al. “Vulnerable Groups in Policy Documents.” 2015.

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Literary Criticism

Photo by Katherine Malus of Columbia University Location: Kyrgyzstan

Kyrgyzstan Katherine Malus

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Dueling in Russian Culture The duel is perhaps one of the most important cultural components of 19th century Russian literature. In many of the major works of 19th century Russian literature a duel is central to the plot. Alexander Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin and “The Shot” are two prime examples of duel literature. When compared with the duel in Ivan Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons, one can better understand the way duels functioned as a ritual, repeated processes governed by a set of rules, designed to protect the honor of aristocrats in 19th century Russia. The ritualization of dueling helped distinguish it from murder, even though it often involved killing a reluctant participant because the social pressure behind the ritual frequently forced duels to happen when the participants could have resolved the conflict another way. Duel scholar Irina Reyfman illustrates the paradox between protecting the honor of individuals and the resulting limits on free will. She argues that “the centrality of the ritual for an affair of honor to a large extent accounts for a property of the duel that greatly disturbs the code’s exponents of all generations: its ability to deprive duelists of their free will. Once initiated, a dueling procedure tends to run its course, sometimes forcing participants

to act against their best judgement…”1 In effect, duels functioned contrary to how they were intended: instead of working to protect the autonomy and individuality of those that comprised the aristocracy, duels often limited the free will of at least one of the parties involved. Further, Reyfman argues that once the duel starts, participants can act in ways uncharacteristic of themselves, causing the effects of the duel to be exacerbated instead of being resolved. In 19th century Russian society, turning down a challenge to a duel was almost never an option and death was preferred. Members of the aristocracy would ridicule and shame someone who was unwilling to duel for showing cowardice, and it often could ruin the reputation of that person. The culture surrounding duels was so severe that “the psychological motivation for submission here was shame.”2 Reyfman explains how this motivation caused a paradox where the ritual created by aristocrats to maintain their autonomy actually limited their free will. Ultimately, the dueling ritual was intended to uphold the aristocratic code of honor and give aristocrats a mechanism for resolution when others deviated from that code. 1 Irina Reyfman, Ritualized Violence Russian Style: The Duel in Russian Culture and Literature, (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1999), 29. 2 Yuri Lotman and Laura E. Christians, “The Duel,” Pushkin Review 20, (2018): 41.

However, in cases where aristocrats may have believed that certain offenses were not significant enough to merit a duel, their peers still could have considered them cowardly for not challenging the offender. In a situation like this, the ritual that was intended to protect aristocrats’ free will in society could actually be much more limiting than helpful. Dueling in Eugene Onegin and “The Shot” The duel in Eugene Onegin is filled with various complexities and oddities. In order to fully explore the inconsistencies in the duel between Onegin and Lensky, it is necessary to break the duel down almost scene by scene. First, there is no point in which Lensky provokes his friend Onegin enough to truly want to duel. In fact, the narrator says that “Eugene remaining / Alone, encountering his soul, / Was not contented with his role.”3 Before the duel even begins, Onegin is feeling reluctant to engage in the duel. He knows that the transgression is not enough to warrant the challenge, especially with such a close friend, and that they would pay with their lives for this rash decision. Regardless, Onegin submits himself to the duel without hesitation in order to prevent himself from being shamed for cowardice. Zaretsky, Lensky’s second, is an old duelist who lives not too far from him, and his choice of Zaretsky is critically important in the outcome of the duel. To begin, the narrator describes both Zaretsky and dueling by saying “ / The whispers, laughs of stupid men… / And there it is – public opinion! / Our idol, 3 Alexander Pushkin, Eugene Onegin, trans. Stanley Mitchell (New York: Penguin Books, 2008), 125.

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honour’s spring, which, wound, / Ensures our universe goes round.”4 This passage, though exaggerated, illustrates the sentiment of aristocrats towards dueling. The narrator realizes that dueling is a practice that aristocrats should refuse, but knowing that his reputation and honor will be destroyed from gossip if he refuses, the social pressure forces Onegin to participate in duels when challenged. Zaretsky has a reputation for being a gossip regarding duels because he has been involved in so many. In effect, the social pressure actually becomes part of the dueling ritual since it factors so heavily into the decision-making process of aristocrats. The duel between Onegin and Lensky also helps to show the many ways in which this duel was anything but standard. For instance, the timing of duels was important in 19th century Russia. If a participant was more than an hour late, the seconds should declare that person the loser of the duel. However, Onegin’s tardiness does not cause the duel to be called off, as the narrator describes “time to get up, past six, we’re late, / Onegin will not want to wait.’ / But he was wrong; Eugene unheeding / Still sleeps a sleep that nought can mar.”5 On the contrary, Zaretsky understands the importance of being on time to a duel and encourages Lensky not to be late. Because Onegin arrived so late to the duel, Zaretsky should have declared Lensky the winner instead of allowing the duel to proceed so far past the agreed start time. This incident illustrates how although aristocrats tried to cement the ritual of dueling, there was still significant room for rules and proce4 Ibid, 126.

5 Ibid, 131

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dures to be altered. For a duel to take place, each duelist normally nominates a second to help with the dueling procedure and to be a witness to the duel. Typically, seconds were noblemen. As discussed, Lensky chose Zaretsky to be his second. Onegin, however, chose Guillot, his servant, to be his second, saying “‘although he’s not a well-known figure, / He is an honest guy and eager.’ / Zaretsky bit his lip, appalled.”6 Onegin’s continual disrespect for the ritual of dueling points to the fact that he feels pressured into dueling and is trying to act out within the bounds of the system in a way that may get the duel canceled without an accusation of cowardice. In another situation, the duel may not have occurred. But because of Zaretsky’s eagerness to force the duel, Onegin is essentially left without a choice. In “The Shot”, rather than a scene of the work being centered on a duel, the entire work is centered on one duel that plays out over the course of several years. The 19th century code of honor states that if one of the participants in a duel does not use his shot, he may save the shot to use again later. This person, however, is not allowed to enter into any future duels until the shot has been taken and the duel has concluded. This scenario occurs in the text when a regimental commander, Silvio, goes back to finish a duel with the Count who he dueled several years ago. This work is yet another example of one in which the ritual of dueling limits the free will of its participants, as Silvio waits several years to take his shot until he finds a time when the Count does not want to duel. 6 Ibid, 133.

The cause of this duel, like the duel in Eugene Onegin, was also over a woman. The young Count was getting more attention from women at a ball than Silvio, and more specifically flirts with a woman that Silvio liked. When they agree to duel, as Silvio recalls, “he stood in range of my pistol, selecting ripe cherries from his cap and spitting out the stones so that they almost fell at my feet. His indifference infuriated me.”7 For Silvio, who is a military man, the Count not taking the ritual of dueling seriously is frustrating. The Count shows up to the duel dressed messily and eating, something certainly not characteristic of duels in this time period. To Silvio, it feels pointless to duel someone who does not value their life and does not seem to care about the consequences of dueling. After the Count misses, Silvio decides to save his shot until he finds a time where the Count is more concerned about his death. The logistics of both portions of the duel between Silvio and the Count differ from those in the duel in Eugene Onegin. In both of the duels in “The Shot”, instead of shooting without restriction as usual, each of the participants drew lots to determine who would shoot first. Both times the Count won and was awarded the first shot. As Silvio observes, “it seems to me that this is not a duel, but murder; I am not accustomed to aiming at an unarmed man.” (Pushkin 80). In an uncharacteristic manner, Silvio awards the Count another shot in the second portion of the duel. Although it may seem like murder, since the rules clearly established that each participant would shoot once, Silvio 7 Alexander Pushkin, “The Shot,” in The Complete Prose Tales of Alexandr Sergeyevitch Pushkin, trans. Gillon R. Aitken, (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1996), 75.

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was completely within his rights to take the shot without awarding a second shot to the Count. The setting of this duel is also far from characteristic. Since duels were illegal in 19th century Russia, they often took place in more hidden locations that could not be as easily observed. In “The Shot”, the second duel takes place in the Count’s house in front of his wife and servants. At one point during the duel the Count even exclaims “‘get up Masha, for shame!’ I cried in a frenzy; ‘and you, sir, will you cease to make fun of an unfortunate woman? Are you going to fire or not?’”8 To duel indoors was incredibly rare, but to duel in front of other people who were not the seconds was even rarer. The duel in this case is unlike all the other cases presented in this paper because it takes place both inside and in front of others. Even though his wife is scared and yelling, the Count still urges Silvio to take his shot because he, as an aristocrat, takes the ritual very seriously. This duel in particular shows the way in which the ritual of dueling was anything but rigid in practice. Instead, there were often wild variations on certain rules that could vastly affect the outcomes and emotional impact on the participants. Finally, the ending of the duel effectively portrays how one party can cause the intended effect of taking away one’s free will. Instead of shooting and killing the Count, Silvio replies “‘no, I’m not going to fire,’ Silvio replied. ‘I am satisfied. I have seen your alarm, your confusion; I forced you to shoot at me, and that is enough. You will remember me. I commit you to your conscience’”9 Instead 8 Ibid, 81. 9 Ibid, 82.

of taking his last shot at the Count, Silvio shoots the bullet hole left by the Count’s shot, showing that he had the accuracy to kill him if he wanted. From this quote, it is clear that killing the Count was never Silvio’s goal. Instead, it was to make him feel scared and powerless knowing that Silvio could have ended his life. By forcing the Count to participate in the dueling ritual, Silvio is able to limit the Count’s free will and achieve his desired goal. Dueling in Fathers and Sons In Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons, the conservative Pavel Petrovich challenges his nephew’s friend from university, Bazarov, to a duel over a general disagreement in politics. The reader may be surprised to see Bazarov, a self-proclaimed Nihilist, willing to participate in what he views as a social institution that does not need to be protected. He states that “from a theoretical standpoint, dueling is ridiculous; but, from a practical standpoint, well, that’s a different matter.”10 This statement is particularly surprising because it shows that Bazarov is participating in an institution that he outwardly rejects. To some degree, this is a variation from the works previously discussed because Bazarov does not inherently accept the value of the dueling ritual. However, his participation in the duel only further provides evidence to the claim that duels can limit the autonomy of elites in society, as well as the claim that duels have a tendency to play out once initiated. Throughout the duel, Bazaraov constantly mocks the ritual of dueling. While measuring out the paces for the duel, he adds “‘I have longer legs,’ added 10 Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Children, trans. Michael Katz. (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2009), 120.

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Bazarov with a grin … ‘You’ll agree, Pavel Petrovich, our duel is so unusual as to be ridiculous? One need only look at the face of our second.’”11 He notes all of the peculiarities of the duel, including the fact that there is one second, the servant of Pavel Petrovich’s brother, who spends the duel hiding behind a tree. Although Pavel coerced Bazarov into dueling, Bazarov still participated in the duel. While he began by mocking certain elements of the ritual, such as counting the steps, he becomes serious after the duel begins and he sees how serious Pavel takes it. When Pavel aims at him, Bazarov thinks “‘he’s aiming straight for my nose,’ ...‘and he’s squinting hard, the scoundrel!’”12 After getting upset with Pavel for aiming at his head, Bazarov becomes irritated, falling into the same mentality shared by other noble duelists, causing the duel to be completed even though it may be against Bazarov’s better judgement. For someone who does not believe in dueling and did not want to participate from the beginning, it is easy for Bazarov not to finish the duel by executing the wounded Pavel Petrovich with his last shot. Instead, he chooses to help his opponent. While Pavel Petrovich initially admonishes Bazarov for not finishing the duel properly, he later says that he behaved honorably in the duel. Bazarov’s paradoxical behavior can be explained primarily from his Nihilist perspective. He outwardly rejects all institutions, but yet participates in many of them. By stopping the duel and tending to Pavel Petrovich, Bazarov is able to claim both a victory within the ritual of dueling and a moral victory from his choice to help his oppo11 Ibid, 124. 12 Ibid, 125.

nent. Conclusion The duels presented in Eugene Onegin, “The Shot”, and Fathers and Sons all illustrate the importance of the ritual of dueling to aristocrats in 19th century Russia. In Eugene Onegin, Onegin is forced to kill one of his close friends as a result of a second who ignored rule violations and made no attempt to initiate the process of reconciliation. In “The Shot”, Silvio takes advantage of dueling rules to allow him to wait several years when the Count is more vulnerable and unwilling to take his final shot. In Fathers and Sons, Pavel Petrovich uses physical intimidation in addition to existing societal pressure to force a duel with Bazarov, someone who rejects the institution. Even though, in theory, the rules of the duel functioned to separate it from murder, if not prevent it, there were often many variations between each duel. However, these examples show the way in which duels actually functioned in a way that was opposite to their intended purpose. Instead of working to protect the ability of Russian aristocrats to act freely, it instead forced aristocrats to participate in a deadly ritual with far greater frequency than was merited.

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forced by the repetition of the adjective “tesnaia,” which seems to imply that not only is the cell “cramped,” but that the possibilities are so limited in this small word that other words are not available to describe it.1 The cell, Gippius explains, is “this world.” According to Gippius, the physical world is a realm wherein humans are limited by their physical, social, and historical circumstances and unable to enjoy the freedom for which their spirits yearn. The limitations imposed by physical reality include not only social limitations but also the limitations of one’s own physical body, especially the female body. In her book on the decadent imagination in turn-of-the-century Russia, Erotic Utopia, Olga Matich states that Gippius represented herself through a “male poetic persona and male pseudonyms.”2 She also often dressed as a male dandy, thereby “subvert[ing] the binary system of gender.”3 Through her masculine gender expression, Gippius rebelled against the social norms of turn-of-the-century Russia. However, her construction of a male poetic persona reveals an interior sexism, since it adheres to the prevalent contemporary idea that masculinity is intellectual and spiritual whereas women

The world depicted in Zinaida Gippius’ poem “Spiders” (“Pauki”) is a small room ruled by web-spinning spiders, a realm trapped by history and fate. Gippius situates her three main symbols: the cell, the spiders, and the cobwebs, in a gloomy and claustrophobic environment which is constructed through carefully chosen words ; short sentences which evoke a cramped feeling; the four-line, four-verse poetic structure which mimics the four-cornered cell; and the lack of action taken by the listless narrator which reinforces a fatalistic view. These literary techniques set the stage in which the three main symbols act out the narrative of life according to Gippius: the physical world is a place ruled by fate and determined by the inevitable flow of time and history, which ultimately destroy the individual. The poem can also be interpreted to represent Gippius’ personal struggles with her gender and body as a female poet in turn-of-the-century Russia. The complete impression of the poem is powerful enough to affect the reader viscerally. Gippius carefully sets the stage of her poem in the first stanza by presenting minimalist details in brief sentences, two of which end abruptly at the end of each of the first two lines. This creates a claustrophobic mood which is rein-

1 Gippius, Zinaida. “Spiders.” In Modern Russian Poetry, edited by Vladimir Markov, 68 Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1967 2 Matich, Olga. Erotic Utopia : The Decadent Imagination in Russia’s Fin-de-siècle. Madison, Wis.: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005., 171 3 Ibid., 175

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are defined primarily by their bodies. That is, to be a poet is masculine. Feeling that her spiritual and poetic inclinations were masculine, “Gippius had difficulty inhabiting her [female] body,” viewing it as an impediment to that which she desired: “transcendence, especially of the physical body.”4 Gippius was unable to overcome her internalized misogyny or affirm her female body, which became for her another “cramped cell” which trapped her physically, socially, and artistically. In addition to the symbol of the cell, Gippius uses the deftly described symbol of four spiders to craft a disturbing image of the rule of fate over this cramped world. The four spiders are an allusion to the Greek Fates, who “tirelessly” weave the tapestry of fate.5 The second stanza elaborates upon these spiders with chilling detail. Suddenly, the terse narrator, who previously had so few words that repetition was necessary, colorfully describes the spiders with three adjectives. The first word, “lovki,” seems positive, but designating it to an incredibly creepy creature as “dexterous” or “clever” only intensifies its threatening nature. “Zhirny,” which literally means “fat,” calls to mind a disgustingly greasy piece of meat. The juxtaposition of this image with the descriptor “dirty” creates the third, more revolting image of a greasy and muddy piece of meat—and there Gippius stops with another terse period. Although the Greek Fates are divine, Gippius depicts fate as something intimately related to the physical world, since fat and dirt are commonly associated with the earthly and contrasted against the spiritual or heavenly. The final stanza 4 Ibid., 191 5 Gippius, “Spiders”

directly states what these spider-fates are: “animal.” This is not divine providence; this is the fatalism of the randomness and meaninglessness of history. The spiders weave monotonously and incessantly just as time and history plod on, catching all of humanity in its “adept,” inhuman claws and dragging them through the disgusting, greasy machinations of human history. In this cramped world full of tyrannical spiders, cobwebs symbolize that which fate creates: earthly human history, which traps and dehumanizes individuals. The tapestry of history which the spiders weave is “dust[y]”, “foul” and “gloomy.” The four cobwebs, that is, the different histories of different places and peoples, may seem disconnected, but in the end they are all part of the same “gloomy,” inescapable tapestry. People of all nations are trapped in these “foul” webs of history and society and denied individuality. Gippius characterizes the anonymizing force of history by describing how these cobwebs cover the narrator’s eyes, which are the facial features commonly associated with individual personality. Here, the cobwebs are concisely described as “grey, soft, sticky.” The first two words, “grey” and “soft” are benign and even almost imply comfort, such as a calm, foggy evening or a soft couch. To be entrapped in this “dust[y]” world is not always uncomfortable; sometimes, it can be pleasurable and relaxing to lose oneself in the mindless everyday rhythm. But the last word pulls the reader out of this fantasy. The cobweb is “sticky,” thereby evoking a visceral reaction of disgust in the reader. Gippius was disgusted by this stickiness and evaded society’s gender

norms, but she remained trapped by the difficulty of reconciling her female body with society’s historical definition of intellect as masculine; her individual personality was denied. The entrapping web woven by fate does not violently and externally bind us, but clings to us, violates our senses, and traps us by denying any boundary between the individual person and the faceless, inhuman mass of history. The narrator, who is perhaps Gippius herself, performs her first action in the third stanza: she “look[s].” First, she merely co-existed in the cell with the spiders. Then, she felt terrified by their labor, which she passively sensed without looking. And when she finally acts, it is a receptive action, representing the powerlessness of the person trapped in this world. Even when we attempt to engage with our world, the most that we can do is passively and helplessly observe the world closing in around us. After being captured in cobwebs, the spiders reduce the narrator to absolute passivity and helplessness. Interestingly, Gippius does not describe her body entangled in webs: her eyes alone are described. This omission robs the narrator of a body, of the arms with which she could fight back and the legs with which she would run away. In this cell, she has been robbed of all ability to act and her eyes passively lie “under” the cobwebs.6 In the entire poem, the narrator’s only action is to look, and that ability is taken from her immediately in the next stanza, two lines later. It is not for humans, even those with poetic insight, to gaze upon the inner workings of fate and history, much less to 6 Gippius, “Spiders”

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fight against them. When the narrator “look[s],” all that she sees are “[the spiders’] backs stirring \ in the foul-gloomy dust,” a description which calls to mind the skin-crawling experience of spotting, out of the corner of the eye, something slithering in the dark. Half-seen, the spiders are more terrifying than if they were fully revealed. The mysterious and distant hands of fate, crafting for us our inevitable futures, terrify us more and inspire in us more anxiety than any obvious and present threat which, by presenting itself, allows itself to be engaged with and, to an extent, controlled. Gippius can face down the society around her and assert herself against it through her unconventional lifestyle and writing, but cannot control the forces which operate within her own body. Matich records that Gippius wrote in Contes d’amour: “[I]f only I could let go ... of the voluptuous filth, which, I know, is hidden in me and which I don’t even understand.”7 Gippius cannot “let go” or even “understand,” she can only “look” in helpless despair.8 “Spiders” depicts not only Gippius’ discomfort with her female body but also her repulsion at her body’s natural sex drive: her existential frustration and confusion when faced with the uncontrollable forces of nature. She is trapped within the fate imposed upon her by the physical limitations and definition of her body. Through stylistic repetition of the pattern of the first stanza in the beginning of the fourth stanza, Gippius conveys the continual, inevitable repetition of earthly history. The enjambment between the last two lines of the stanza teases a 7 Matich, Erotic Utopia, 179 8 Matich, Erotic Utopia, 179, Gippius, “Spiders”

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break from the short monotony of the first two short sentences, but, by jarring the reader across the line break, destabilizes the reader: even when the monotony of history breaks, it does so with a disconcerting jolt. Gippius further mimics the first stanza with the repetition of “four ... spiders,” although with an importantly different adjective.9 While before the spiders were “zhirny” (fat, greasy), now, the spiders are “tolst[y]: “fat, large.” Gippius recalls the previous image but uses a slightly different meaning of fat: fat from having eaten heartily. What have the spiders consumed to become fat? It can only be the flesh of the entrapped narrator, who has been consumed by and assimilated into the endless flow of time. Earthly, heavy fate, the absolute ruler of the physical world, traps the human spirit within a limited body, society, and history and ultimately destroys the individual. The poem begins with “I” but ends with “spiders:” with fate. The literary techniques and symbols which Gippius utilizes in “Spiders” reinforce each other and subtly magnify the gloomy and fatalistic atmosphere of the poem while also invoking visceral reactions in the reader. Layers of meaning are created by the narrative, the words chosen, the sentence structure, the structure of the poem itself, the imagery, the symbolism, and the poet’s own life. The final result is a subtle multiplication of unease and despair which creates continual low-level anxiety in the reader, despite the apparent straight-forward simplicity of the poem. In Dostoevsky’s novel Crime and Punishment, the villain9 Gippius, “Spiders”

ous character Svidrigailov famously describes the afterlife as “one small room… dingy, with spiders in all the corners.”10 But Gippius has a more radical claim. That small room full of spiders isn’t Hell, after all; it’s this world.

10 Dostoevskii, Fedor. “F. М. Dostoevskii. Prestuplenie I Nakazanie. Chast’ Chetvertaia. I.” Ilibrary.ru, ilibrary.ru/text/69/p.21/ index.html. (Translation by Jessica Saeli)

When in conversation with Anna Akhmatova about the subject of her poem “Requiem,” Alexander Solzhenitsyn said, “It was a national tragedy, but you made it only the tragedy of a mother and son.” Solzhenitsyn’s implied criticism, encapsulated in this brief, yet striking comment, represents the dismissing of women’s experiences as secondary to political relevance. Akhmatova’s poetry challenges the notion of personal narrative as a form that is too limiting or ignorant of a broader historical context. Rather than distracting from national tragedies, Akhmatova’s alignment of personal emotion with the experiences of women in the 20th century emphasizes key periods in Russian and Soviet life. By analyzing gender norms and expectations in Russia during the early 1900s and in the Soviet Union during the Stalinist years, Akhmatova consistently perceives history through the lens of personal narrative, an approach that emphasizes broader historical trends and challenges patriarchal norms (in both literary traditions and society) by politicizing female narratives.

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Understanding the status of women in Russia during the early 1900s and its effect on female representation in popular literature at the time is essential to interpret how Akhmatova’s earlier works speak to a larger historical context. Before the revolution of 1905, the “women’s question” emerged in Russia, influenced by the Enlightenment period of the West and critically challenging the traditional role of women as revolutionary ideals of gender egalitarianism gained momentum. Two distinct belief systems emerged: liberal-minded people, who partook in the growing Russian women’s movement and fought for equal opportunity to education, employment, and other initiatives, and more conservative-minded individuals who pushed for the continued subordination and traditional domesticity of women. A reemergence of zhenstvennost, or “femininity,” occurred as a result of the tension between these two sides: Catherine Schuler defines “the qualities of zhenstvennost” as “modesty, restrained stylishness, strong material instinct, conjugal devotion, self-sacrifice, elevated idealism, and unambiguous

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heterosexuality.” Women were confronted with conflicting views of their expected behavior. On the one hand, revolutionaries and members of the intelligentsia were arguing for gender equality, while on the other hand, a rigid national tradition of “femininity” was experiencing a resurgence, creating questions of what constituted “true” womanhood. Tensions created by the “women’s question” can be seen in the literary epoch in which Akhmatova was writing during her earlier years. Russia’s fin-de-siècle, known as the Silver Age, was marked by a vast proliferation of creativity in literature and poetry. The most prominent movement in the initial years of the Silver Age was symbolism, which, according to Jane Taubman, dealt with “mystical-religious searchings” that often “cast the poet in the role of priest, seer, or prophet,” leaving “little room for the distinctly female voice or experience.” Women writing during the Silver Age were so hesitant to write in a distinguishably female voice that many of them opted to use the neutral or masculine version of the pronoun “I” rather than the feminine version in Russian. Symbolism revealed that despite conversation surrounding the status of women in Russia, an overarching patriarchal force remained in popular culture and limited the extent to which women could write about their changing role in society. Amidst these literary and societal restrictions, Akhmatova’s earlier work challenged the dominant patriarchal force controlling symbolist poets and depicted the restraining nature of women’s roles in the early 1900s. One of Akhmatova’s poems written in 1911 that opens with “A

doer of nothing, I came here—Why not? It’s all the same to me where I am bored.” From the start of the poem, Akhmatova lets the reader into her world, speaking distinctly in the first person and the feminine version of “I” in Russian. Her choice of phrases connote indifference towards responsibility, with a “doer of nothing” creating a sense of liberation and the offhand “Why not?” showing a level of personal agency rather than submission to popular discourse controlling her behavior. This refusal to acquiesce obligation challenges the rhetoric at the time dictating women to either the role of the active feminist or the embodiment of zhenstvennost. A line directly after reads “You can live here for years and not say a word,” further emphasizing Akhmatova’s refusal to contribute to the larger debate surrounding female roles that was dominating Russian social culture, opting to live as she chooses rather than be placed in the position of exemplar for womanhood. Her deflection of the rigid binary of female expression challenges a contemporary sentiment of that time period through the lens of her personal apathy towards the dictation of women’s behavior, showing the reality of the contradiction that women were facing. A line in the second stanza of the poem further questions a multi-faceted representation of femininity, reading, “By the pond I call “mermaid” although/ The mermaid in question is, of course, dead.” Mermaids, an objectified and feminized image, were often used as figureheads on naval ships from the 16th to the 20th century to represent the highly masculinized journeys of shipmen. This representation relates to symbolism’s

“mystical-religious searchings” during the Silver Age and its subsequent requirement of objectification by male narrators. Akhmatova confronts this patriarchal gaze by claiming the mermaid is not only dead, but “of course” dead, drawing attention to both a “death” of the male-controlled narrative of womanhood in literature and, potentially, the “death” of the feminized characteristics of zhenstvennost. Coupled with the decay of the setting, such as the “dried-out morning glory bed” and “pond” that “has rusty scum on it now,” the reader gets a sense of a general dissipation of something that was once familiar, showing Akhmatova’s personal departure from traditional roles of femininity. Her refusal to submit to a binary is a statement in and of itself, contributing to the death of the mermaid and allowing her story to gain political relevance. When not viewed in a male gaze, however, mermaids have also historically represented female sexual desire – sirens who lure unsuspecting men into their realm with love songs are an example of a female mythological creature with sexual agency. Akhmatova’s reimagination of the mermaid, claiming its death on her own terms, could be viewed as the death of the potential of female sexual agency in light of the conservatism of the early 1900s. Her reclamation of the mermaid’s death could also, however, be interpreted as a refusal to be confined by any categorical binary, whether “progressive” or not; she neither wants to be the objectified version of the mermaid, nor the explicitly sexually-liberated version of the mermaid. As David McDuff suggests, “…the woman in [this poem] is conscious of being unable to fulfill the expectations of men,” expec-

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tations that pushed women to categorically define themselves. Akhmatova refuses to inhabit the role of traditional and domestic female or sexually-liberated woman precisely because neither one allows for the complex dimensionality expressed in her poem. Her refusal calls attention to the limited nature with which women could oscillate between roles at the time; the mermaid in question had to die in order for Akhmatova to experience liberation from the dictation of female behavior. Her incorporation of historicized gender roles into her earlier work is through her personal experience as a woman living in the century, allowing readers to see the individual effects of accepted gender sentiments during the time period in their most humanized form rather than in the abstract. The trends in “A doer of nothing…” are traceable throughout a number of Akhmatova’s other earlier poems. Although “Evening,” “Rosary,” and “White Flock” are often written off as love-sick musings of a young woman addressing her first husband, Nikolay Gumilyov, each one, like “A doer of nothing…” deals intimately with personal emotion while simultaneously connecting to the act of remembering specific places in Russian life, an aspect that becomes essential to later works. From addressing the town of Tsarskoye Selo in “Evening,” to mixing personal time and the age of St. Petersburg’s architectural landscape in “Rosary,” Akhmatova’s act of remembrance connects feminine aspects with larger historical settings, allowing feelings of love to transcend the personal and show her affection for her nation. Politicizing female love by connecting it to the act

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of remembering key places in Russian life shows a progression from her earlier works and an important shift that can be seen in her later poems. The context of the gender question, and thus the larger social conversation and literary trends to which Akhmatova was responding in her poetry, changed drastically from the hesitant and often conservative view of women in the early 1900s. By the time Joseph Stalin came into power, women were encouraged to assimilate to the workforce in order to support the growing demand for an industrial revolution. Rather than contributing to an elevation of social or economic status, however, women were faced with the task of engaging in public employment while upkeeping domestic affairs, splitting their personal obligations down the middle. Additionally, Stalin adopted a fiercely pro-natalist policy in order to bolster the population growth within the Soviet Union and contribute to his strict view of a labor-oriented socialist economy. Women were thus supposed to engage in the workforce while simultaneously having as many children as they could, a tension that is not so dissimilar from the contradictory nature of the Russian women’s movement and zhenstvennost in the early 1900s. In order to idealize the strenuousness of this new position, “socialist realism” began depicting the role of women in Soviet life as heroic feats of nature, creating a limited literary sphere in which women could write about their experiences. The emergence of “heroine mothers” was widely popularized during the Stalinist years: as Barbara Heldt observes, “the radiant ‘heroine-mother,’ fortress against

oppression and upholder of her men-folk, her closeness to female nature always kept somewhat mysterious, continued in Soviet literature.” The actual suffering of the Stalinist years, particularly during the Great Purge and Gulag penal system, were prohibited from being recorded under ideological restrictions. The stories that were published, either underground or abroad, were continually concerned with male suffering, and works that did mention women were often written by men and adhered to unrealistic “socialist realist” depictions of females as unbeatable heroines. Additionally, stories that specifically focused on remembering individuals who died under Stalinist policies operated within the traditional framework of male-centricity, since, as Carole Stone posits, “women in traditional elegy have no voice…they have had to invent new conventions to place themselves authoritatively at the poem’s center to describe the female journey of mourning rather than the male.” Thus, even the genre-world in which Soviet suffering was depicted was dominated by a patriarchal gaze. While the status of women clearly received an improvement post-revolution, Stalinist policies created unreconcilable contradictions, and representations in Russian literature of “heroine-mothers” were both male-dominated and two-dimensional. “Requiem” challenges the male-controlled narrative of the “heroine-mother” by shedding light on maternal suffering during the years of the Gulag system, allowing this experience to be dictated by a woman and leaving little room for ideological images of mothers. The entirety of “Requiem” is written through

the personal lens of Akhmatova’s own struggles with the imprisonment of her son and husband in the Gulag system. She focuses on the stories of women who are in a similar situation, and the instances in the poem in which gender plays a key role reveal this shift in perspective. The poem opens with a section in prose entitled “Instead of a Foreword” in which a woman standing outside of the Gulag prison in Leningrad asks Akhmatova “‘Can you describe this?’” and Akhmatova answers“‘I can.’” By starting the poem this way, Akhmatova sets a specific tone, indicating that Requiem is an attempt to explain the inexplicable. Furthermore, because one of the mothers asks her to explain the prison, the opening immediately transports the reader into the experiences of the mothers and the confusing grief they are experiencing. A further exploration of this female grief occurs in the first poem in the series entitled “Prologue,” in which Akhmatova’s son is arrested, reading, “Like the wives of those the Tsar put to death/I’ll stand outside the Kremlin and howl.” Her allusion to the wives of the victims of Stalin’s Great Purge serves two purposes: it draws attention to a larger historical context, shedding light on the people who died under Stalin’s deadly rule and giving her poem a dimension beyond the personal. However, like the poem’s entire purpose of drawing more attention to the mothers of the Gulag prisoners, Akhmatova emphasizes a distinctly female experience that may have been overshadowed by the death of male relations, whether sons, husbands, or fathers. As a result, a personal element of herself as a woman serves as a connection to a historical suffering that

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may have been overlooked. Coupled with the verb “howl,” Akhmatova provides literary representation of motherly grief that cannot be seen in the indivisibleness of the “heroine-mothers.” In the fourth poem of the “Prologue,” Akhmatova further shows the personal effect of the Stalinist years by juxtaposing her youth with where she is now, saying, “If in your mocking youth long years ago/When friends and lovers showered you with praise…If you had seen then how you’d spend your days-/ Standing in line at the Crosses Prison walls/With three hundred women ahead of you.” When comparing this pain-ridden version of Akhmatova to the woman in her earlier poem, one can trace the effects of the Gulag system on women. She is no longer liberated or in control of her self-definition. The act of remembering is personal and focused on femininity, showing the historical effects of the devastating progression of the Soviet Union on individual experience. Akhmatova’s alignment of motherly suffering with the suffering of the Virgin Mary connects her story to the suffering of Russia as a whole and the trajectory of the entire Soviet project from its utopic inception to its tragic ending. In the series of poems in the “Crucifixion” section, Akhmatova switches the speaker to her son, who is placed in the role of Jesus. He says, “‘Father, why have You abandoned Me?’ He cried/Then, turning to His mother: “Do not weep for Me…’” Akhmatova’s position as the mother of Jesus connects her personal experience to a larger belief system while simultaneously calling attention to “Mother Russia” and the death of all of the country’s “children.”

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The repetition of the son telling Akhmatova not to weep for him eventually turns her attention from all of the men in the prison to the women outside of it: she says, “Mary Magdalene beat her breast, tore her hair/The beloved disciple froze as still as stone/But where the Mother stoodno one would look there/None dared to glance at her, so silent and alone.” Thus, Akhmatova looks at the mothers and their sorrow, drawing attention to the ignorance that they have been historically treated with. In a further act of remembering, Akhmatova reveals in the “Epilogue” of the poem that, if a monument were to be built in her name, she would want it to be outside of the Leningrad prison to represent all of the mothers who suffered alongside her. This expressed wish of the distillation of memory and yearning for a permanent memorial for the mothers is the most visible fusion of the personal with the historical. Like her emphasis of memory entwined in architecture in “Rosary,” Akhmatova mixes time, place, and national suffering in a way that links them to personal experience, female suffering, and an undying love for one’s country. In this last tangible wish, the power of Akhmatova’s personal politics shines through. By showing her progression from a young woman struggling with femininity to an older mother mourning the fate of her country, Akhmatova depicts a parallel path of Russian and Soviet life, allowing readers to experience the turbulence of the project’s history through its unrecorded effects on the lives of women. The emphasis on this striking alignment renders Solzhenitsyn’s initial criticism of Akmatova’s personal politics distract-

ing from national tragedies false. By fusing the personal with the historical, Akhmatova exhibits how the tragedy of a mother and a son and the timeline of the mother’s life can elucidate larger historical trajectories and contexts. Akhmatova proves that the narratives of women, rather than being purely autobiographical per Solzhentisyn’s criticism, are necessary in order to gain a full understanding of the effects of a nation’s history on its people.

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Translation

Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan Katherine Malus

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“Flowers Invisible” (before 1915) Flowers invisible, Inflammable, Flowers unfamiliar Golden-vernal, Flowers ablaze, Lustrous, Lilac-perfumed, Lily-white. Gardens of love, Gardens of anguish, Enclosures of secrecy And of silence

“In suffering” (April 1945) In suffering, In silence, There is a secret joy. It is invisible. As bright streams Flow under the earth And snowdrops hide Under a snowy shroud, The deeper the wound— The brighter the joy, And joy conquers pain. It is with all those Who suffer For Your sake, with You.

Original: (untitled) Цветы незримые, Неопалимые, Цветы нездешние, Золото-вешние, Цветы огнистые, Лучистые, Лиливовейные, Лилейные. Сады любви, Сады страдания, Ограды тайны И молчания.

Original (untitled) В страдании, В молчании Есть радость тайная. Она незрима. Так светлые ручьи Струятся под землей, Подснежники под снежной пеленой таятся. Чем рана глубже — Радость ярче, И радость побеждает боль. Она со всеми, Кто страдает Ради Тебя, с Тобой.

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Ты - отступник: за остров зелeный... Анна Ахматова

You are an apostate: for a green island… Anna Akhmatova

Ты - отступник: за остров зеленый Отдал, отдал родную страну, Наши песни, и наши иконы, И над озером тихим сосну.

You are an apostate: for a green island You betrayed, betrayed your native land, Our songs and our icons, And the pine above the quiet lake.

Для чего, лихой ярославец, Коль еще не лишился ума, Загляделся на рыжих красавиц И на пышные эти дома?

For what, you dashing man of Yaroslavl, Unless you’ve lost your mind, Transfixed by those red-haired beauties And the lavish houses?

Так теперь и кощунствуй, и чванься, Православную душу губи, В королевской столице останься И свободу свою полюби.

So now, blaspheme and swagger, Destroy your Orthodox soul, Stay in the royal capital And grow to love your freedom.

Для чего ж ты приходишь и стонешь Под высоким окошком моим? Знаешь сам, ты и в море не тонешь, И в смертельном бою невредим.

Why do you come and moan Under my high window? You yourself know you cannot drown, even in the sea, And in mortal combat you’ll be unharmed.

Да, не страшны ни море, ни битвы Тем, кто сам потерял благодать. Оттого-то во время молитвы Попросил ты тебя вспоминать.

Yes, neither battles nor the sea terrify One who has surrendered grace. That is why, as we prayed You asked to be remembered.

BA/MA PROGRAM IN REGIONAL STUDIES The Birch, Spring 2020

RUSSIA, EURASIA, AND EASTERN EUROPE FIVE-YEAR BA/MA FOR COLUMBIA UNDERGRADUATES Undergraduates at Columbia-affiliated schools with interest in the region can apply to a new five-year BA/MA program in Russian, Eurasian, and Eastern European Regional Studies. Photo by Eli Keene â&#x20AC;&#x2122;11

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