On the 6th of March, the 11th day of the full-scale invasion of Russia into Ukraine, the German PEN International (association of writers) published an article titled ‘The enemy is Putin, not Pushkin’. The article describes Russian soldiers as ‘poorly equipped and misled’ and those who fight for ‘Putin’s fantasies’.
According to the representatives of PEN international, an all-out boycott of Russian books and musicals in theatres is an act of replacement which will be an unjust hit on their Russian colleagues who are bravely resisting Putin’s tyranny. Deniz Yücel, the president of PEN International added that he supported everyone that supports peace and freedom. Later, the so-called ‘poorly equipped and misled’ soldiers carried out a massacre in Bucha, bombed Mariupol’s drama theatre that at the time served as a shelter for women and children and afterwards, hit the Skovoroda Museum deliberately. Skovoroda withstood most surprisingly, however, would the German PEN-club and other naive formations of German intellectuals which deem to live by peace and freedom withstand such a challenge without understanding that Russia needs to be defeated completely in order to achieve peace and freedom? With the help of several experts, let’s take a look as to what is happening in German cultural and intellectual communities and whether it is right to paint all German intellectuals the same way.
It is no secret that Germans, like the French, feel a particular sense of piety towards Russian culture. And when German or French cinema portrays one of their own as an intelligent and educated being, he would almost always be a great admirer of Dostoyevsky or perhaps would happen to know a few lines from the works of Nabokov. Prominent philosopher Vakhtang Kebuladze is confident that the sentiment of Germans towards Russians can be partially explained by a particular misconception of the second world war. Kebuladze states: ‘There is a sense of guilt in front of the Russians which were the so-called victors over Nazism’. The conception that it was not just Russians but rather all Soviets, is practically absent. It is there, but no one really pays much attention to it.’ Such a perspective is a symptom of an outdated colonial view, which allegedly, the Germans were already supposed to be free of. Looking at Russia as if it was the only triumphant side of the second world war and the main de-nazificator of the XX century, Germany sees the USSR as a homogenous territory, a people united under a Russo-centric vision. The reality was quite different: even during the second world war, the Kremlin carried out colonialist policies towards other Soviet republics under its jurisdiction through force. This explains why the proportionally high casualties among Ukrainians during the second world war. This is the very reason that Russia continues to send ethnic minorities to fight in Ukraine such as the people of Buryatia, Dagestan and not the inhabitants of St. Petersburg or Moscow.
Another reason for this piety according to Vakhtang is the German defence mechanism from any discomfort of feeling collectively responsible: ‘If we blame today’s Russians for all of Putin’s atrocities, then all Germans should have been blamed for Hitler’s atrocities. From one hand, they look at Russians as victors over Nazim and from another, they draw parallels between present Russians with the Germans of the Nazi era’. The personalisation of evil is the most common as well as convenient method to understand the enemy. In such cases, the rest of the Russian people are portrayed as victims of propaganda and thereby separate culture and ideology. Considering Russian literature as apolitical, ‘fighting against Putin, not Pushkin’, the German cultural elite rejects proposals of their own prominent figures such as Theodor W. Adorno, Hannah Arendt, Thomas Mann – intellectuals which have put significant effort into the conceptualisation of how common Germans were captured by Hitler’s charisma and became the very engine of the Nazi regime which led to the destruction of other nations. Without seeing the imperial creativity of the so-called ‘troubadours of the empire’ of the XIX century, the cultural elites are repeating old mistakes.
There are a few other reasons as to why German authors and novelists feel sympathetic towards Russian cultures, while feeling indulgence to ‘eccentric’ Russian politics (at least until February of this year). Like the rest of former European empires, Germany has gone through the long and painful process of post-colonial self-criticism. In other words, Germany endured self-reflection of its ‘greatest’ days as some of the darkest period in its history – a time of aggressive expansion and extreme exploitation of its colonies. Modern and seemingly tolerant Germany carefully observes the actions of an aggressive empire not so far to its east, which did not only lack self-reflection of its past, but rather built an entire mythical structure on top of it. Even though the myth in this case does not focus on a single historic era but rather an abstract idea of a great nation, led by a strong leader. Hence, photos of Stalin next to portraits of Tsar Nicholas II and the tyrannical Ivan Grozny do lead to a cognitive dissonance as they all address the greater phenomena. Russia acts in terms of a past paradigm, whereas Germany cannot afford to do so. Nevertheless, Germany can indirectly ‘experience the delights’ of being an empire by transferring its nostalgia and attention to a new and real aggressive country which tries to realise its ambitions of ruling a big part of the world, despite the existing democratic and diplomatic norms. Similarly, when we watch a horror movie, we imagine ourselves fighting the monsters alongside the hero of the plot, ‘risking’ alongside him from our comfortable couches. Germany however, unconsciously sympathises with the monsters rather than the hero.
Russia is also a convenient visualisation of something unfamiliar yet exotic. Something wild, not entirely conceivable, but at the same time seemingly tempting. Up until recently, many Europeans looked at Russia with great sympathy, similarly as to how Kipling regarded India: dangerous but at the same time a fascinating territory which mesmerises us with its mysteriousness. In modern Germany, according to Kebuladze, it is a common yet false belief that Russia holds a ‘mythical culture that entails century-old Russian wisdom, which no one has heard of in terms of specifics but only through rumour’. The myth about the Russian soul (which everyone struggles to grasp the essence of) is hidden behind this very idea. What if there is nothing? This ‘nothing’ for Europeans is also dangerous as it disrupts an entire bundle of necessary practices which are shaped around this form of Russophilia.
Nevertheless, not everything is as bad as it may seem. Translator Roksoliana Svyato notes that only ‘cries for help’ (nothing in-depth) have so far reached the German-speaking world, confirming that Ukraine and its information front has room for improvement when addressing the German-speaking world. ‘Ofcourse, it is painful to see people like Katja Lange-Müller or Alexandra Kluge (who’s prominent work speaks for itself) among the signees of the infamous letter to Sholz. Or perhaps reading the controversial remarks by Ingo Shulze or Nataszha Wodin whose texts were even translated to Ukrainian. I am certain that even these are hopeless cases’. In essence, the German cultural and intellectual elite is not homogenous in terms of thought, and we often are not able to hear the voices of Ukraine’s true friends, behind the noise of those who want to impose a ‘peace deal’ between Ukraine and Russia. In essence, this peace deal would be to withdraw from one’s own territory and leave a part of it for the invaders. These are the common pseudo pacifist rhetoric that we can often hear nowadays.
Nevertheless, says Roksoliana, direct ‘Putinverstehers’ (Putin ‘understanders’) ‘can only be seen among the AfD or far-left parties, some of which often keep quiet on this matter. This is a significant shift from the rhetoric in March. Those who continue to hold an unfriendly position towards Ukraine (such as those who oppose weapons deliveries), come from either a pacifist line of thinking (which is widespread in Germany) or from a position of fear of a third world war.’ The main mistake of the ‘peace-oriented’ elites is evident to most Ukrainians: the third world war has already begun and the attempt to hide as a neutral belligerent of the conflict will not save the Europeans. Their calls for dialogue with a ruthless dictator at all cost is an egoistic attempt to stay in their comfort zones while pretending that the world hasn’t changed in the last three months.
Some German intellectuals such as Gumbrecht are confused, as he clearly showed in his interview to ‘the Wire’ where he distances himself from German politics and states the importance of his American citizenship and support for president Biden. In his short, yet important interview, the philosopher admits his own powerlessness to conceive the scale of evil that Ukrainians have to deal with today: ‘The main orchestrator of this invasion does not abide by the laws of interpretation or vision in terms of individual rationality’. As others live in the illusory structures of the past like Habermas, one of the most prominent representatives of the second generation of the Frankfurt school of thought. By the end of April, in the ‘Süddeutsche Zeitung’, his main theses of a potential compromise between Russia and Ukraine were presented, entailing negotiation talks and the salvation of ‘face’ for both sides of the conflict. One is tempted to remind him of the famous slogan of the Parisian student revolution of 1968: ‘The structure does not take to the streets’. Even more so, structures do not win wars.
Nevertheless, not everyone abides by pseudo pacifist ideas like Habermas. Philosopher Andew Wachtel points out that German intellectuals can be split up into three camps. Their main point of conflict is the delivery of heavy weapons to Ukraine. ‘First of all, those who are against the deliveries of heavy weapons, justifying this through more escalation in the conflict that could leave Ukraine’s borders. This was written to Sholz in an open letter on the 29th of April in the ‘Emma’ magazine by Yuli Tse, Martin Walser and actor Lars Eidinger’. In this context it is rather striking that the community of western feminists which see war as ‘men’s games’ and that women must distance themselves from it as much as they can. Despite this, feminist theorists are willing to turn a blind eye to female soldiers and the crimes committed by the Russian army towards Ukrainian women: rape, kidnapping and other atrocities. This can only be explained by the lack of will to recognise reality as it is and continue to abide by their usual slogans, slowly turning into clichés. Ofcourse, the Ukrainian feminist movement is very critical of this.
The second group as mentioned by Wachtel is those who ‘immediately reacted to this open letter with their own message to Scholz with the opposite message, a message asking to provide more heavy weapons to Ukraine, as fast as possible’. ‘Europe must not leave Ukraine on its own’ – say Gerda Muller (nobel prize winner), Igor Levit (pianist), Eva Manesse (author), Mathias Döpfner (Director of ‘Springer’) as displayed on one of the editions of ‘Zeit’. Special attention can be given to the founder of the Zentrum Liberale Moderne organisation – Ralf Fücks, whose clear and strong position is based on the principle that indecisive and fearful politics will only push the Kremlin to escalate. In a common address on the 4th of May, various cultural figures declared: making concessions to the Kremlin will not stop the Kremlin from nuclear threats. There must be a common platform of deterrence, which would require swift action and decisiveness by Europe and not a ‘special path’ for Germany. The letter was signed by Deniz Yücel who previously talked about the ‘misled’ Russian soldiers (on the PEN international platform).
Finally, the third group – ‘those who consider the most responsible strategy is carefulness, restraint and the hesitant weighing of options before any decision-making with regards to military aid for Ukraine, and hence, support the chancellor’s indecisiveness. Such a position is held by Habermas’. Ukrainian philosopher Volodymyr Yermolenko, in his article for ‘Frankfurter Allgemeine’ states that the philosophy of Habermas in his time ‘helped form the theoretical framework for the emergence of a civil society in Ukraine’. Nevertheless, the current argumentation of the German philosopher shows his complete lack of understanding of Ukraine.
What will force German society to change its position and support Ukraine more vigorously? Roksoliana Svyato notes that this task is not a matter concerning a few abstract western ‘intellectuals with good will’ but rather ourselves: ‘It is not only important that we hear more of the reasonable voices of the righteous German intellectuals as a response to those who oppose helping Ukraine. It is more important that Ukrainian counter arguments are heard – loud and clear. As it seems, this is starting to be the case. Even though not as loud and clear as one would want it to be. Ukrainian public leaders, activists and artists are more frequently being invited to lectures and discussions with the German media. This is the main achievement here so far, but also an ongoing task for us on the information front: not only to change how the Germans view Ukraine and Russia, but also to cement our own agency into the model’. Moreover, there is an urge to delegate the battle on the cultural front to our ‘lawyers’ in Europe and focus on the armed conflict instead. However, this will entail losing our 15 minutes of being alive in front of the world. This would also mean the admission that we are not capable of speaking for ourselves and are seeking for someone who is better at delivering the message than us.
‘The more there are people that deal with us directly, the more they will understand. This process is not instantaneous and requires a lot of consistent work, but it continues on’ – says Svyato.
Separate changes are noticeable today already. For example, recently I almost accidentally entered the website of one of Germany’s biggest publishers ,’Suhrkamp’. In the chapter ‘Authors in focus’ I spotted (surprisingly) two Ukrainian authors among the top ranked – Andrukhovych and Zhadan as well as Katia Petrovska, an author of Ukrainian descent. The intellectual climate is gradually changing. Henceforth, our task today is to speak loudly, clearly and independently. So that we will be heard even in the most remote corners of the earth.
