Belonging to yourself
“I have nothing left for me here. This country is foreign to me.”
Words of a Russian immigrant in the US. You might think they were spoken by someone who never integrated into society, never learned English, perhaps was not successful in their career. No, it was someone who did all those things, and yet the attachment to Russia was so strong, that after decades in America they were left with a feeling that all was for naught, of growing isolation and depression.
I don’t know how to explain this, other than to propose that Russians are taught to belong to their country, not to themselves.
It starts early. I remember learning stories about WWII as a kid. Some very specific kinds of stories. I remember two. In one, a farm boy finds the location of a German battery. He signals to Russian tanks. However, the Germans find him before the tanks can arrive and the boy is killed. In another, a sailor defeats a German pillbox by ramming his body into the loophole so his comrades could get close enough.
Yes, there were other stories, cartoons, folk tales. But none of them transcended the message of these parables of self sacrifice: when the country calls, you are supposed to give your life. Not to find a way around it. Not to second-guess. Just do what it takes.
Here is a song we learned:
“С чего начинается Родина?
С картинки в твоем букваре
С хороших и верных товарищей
Живущих в соседнем дворе
А может она начинается
С той песни что пела нам мать
С того что в любых испытаниях
У нас никому отнять”…
“What is the beginning of Motherland?
She starts with your first book,
With friends, good and true,
Who live next door.
Or maybe she begins
With the song your mother sang to you;
Such a thing, no matter what happens
Cannot be taken away…”
Notice how the most fundamental human experiences are associated with Motherland. She is the all encompassing presence. Everything belongs to her. To this land, literally a place on a map. Without this land, you have no friends, no mother, not even your first book is your own. Happiness cannot be without her.
The ideas we are raised with in the United States are quite different. Of course we love our country, but there is so much more: religion, individuality, family, freedom:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
The Declaration of Independence of the United States of America
“The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here… that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”
Abraham Lincoln, The Gettysburg Address, to commemorate the fallen at Gettysburg.
Inalienable rights… rights that cannot be taken away. Except in Russia, where they do not belong to you, but rather to an abstract, amorphous, Motherland. She gives your life meaning. Not God, not friends, not family. All of those are part of her.
Why is this done? Simple: you become a weapon. A weapon which can be relied upon.
I read a story about a woman in Siberia against the war. She was outspoken about her beliefs, the government made her pay fines, tracked her every move. And yet even her husband refused to listen to her: “If they call me up, I will go.” There is no choice. You are NOT endowed with any inalienable rights. You belong to the country, like the dirt you walk on.
The poet Galich wrote in 1968, in opposition to the invasion of Czechoslovakia:
“И нет как нет войне конца,
И скоро твой черед!
Снова, снова — громом среди праздности,
Комом в горле, пулею в стволе:
- Граждане, Отечество в опасности!
Граждане, Отечество в опасности!
Наши танки на чужой земле!”
“No end no end no end to war,
Your turn is drawing near!
Again, again, it thunders through indifference
Knot in your throat, a round in the chamber
-Citizens, the Fatherland in danger!
Citizens, the Fatherland in danger!
… Our tanks, on other people’s land.”
That poem has so much. It talks of the Immortal Kuzmin, the symbolic dictator, who through generations of Russian history sends people to die. It talks of the responsibility that every Russian bears for these calamities. It is a complete and utter denunciation of the weaponization of human souls.
Recently I spoke with a missionary, who was back from Eastern Europe (not Russia, but might as well have been, based on what she said): “The people have so much good in them. They have beautiful hearts, souls. I wanted to show them.” But she had to leave — the government of that country made it impossible for her to continue working. Still, she recalled fondly the many friends she made there. The walls are not unbreakable.
Everything changes, and everything returns… I am watching the older generation of immigrants in the US grow weary, and cynical, reverting to the programming of their youth as they retire and life’s distractions give way to emptiness. I am also watching a new generation of immigrants who fled the new Kuzmin. They are excited about American universities, the barbeque in Argentina, the food in Georgia… but already they ask, “what will I do with my degree? I am surrounded by strangers. Will I ever go home?”
No matter how optimistic, energetic, open minded they seem now… unless they can recover the full possession of their souls they will never know home again.