Директорка з розвитку Правозахисної групи ”СІЧ” Ольга Волинська виступила на Arendalsuka — найбільшому політичному форумі в Норвегії. Місія заходу – зміцнити віру в розширення політичних можливостей та демократію через відкриті дебати. У форумі беруть участь політики і громадські активісти, представники науки та бізнесу.
Росія століттями намагалась знищити українську ідентичність
Тема виступу Ольги Волинської: «Важливість мистецтва та культури під час війни».
“Росія століттями намагалась знищити українську ідентичність. Українську мову, як і українську культуру, літературу та мистецтво, систематично забороняли — спочатку Російська імперія, потім радянський режим, а тепер — російський окупаційний режим”, – сказала Ольга.
Ця війна не лише забирає життя та несе руйнування, але й залишає непоправний слід у культурі та мистецтві.
Ось кілька цифр:
- 1096 об’єктів культурної спадщини постраждали або були знищені внаслідок повномасштабного вторгнення Росії.
- Постраждали 117 музеїв, галерей, майже 40 театрів, кінотеатрів і філармоній.
Однак ці цифри не остаточні, адже точну кількість постраждалих об’єктів культурної спадщини на окупованих територіях встановити неможливо.
Українці почали розмовляти українською
Агресивна, геноцидна політика Росії після лютого 2022 року змусила українців по-іншому побачити себе.
“Ми почали глибше цінувати те, що Росія намагається у нас відібрати: нашу історію, нашу мову, наші традиції та культуру. Та чим більше росіяни намагаються знищити нашу ідентичність, тим сильніше ми її захищаємо. За століття боротьби, в українців виробився рефлекс опору російському імперському режиму. Коли минулого літа в Харкові відкрилося нове видавництво «Віват», черга розтягнулася не лише на вулицю, а й на весь квартал. Люди стояли за українськими книгами, їх не лякали ні сирени авіації, ні обстріли”, – розповіла норвезькій аудиторії Ольга Волинська.
Ще одним прикладом повернення до української ідентичності з початком повномасштабної війни є бажання перестати говорити російською. Українці почали повертатися до рідної мови.
“Я хочу поділитися цитатою, яка багато що пояснює: «Української мови ніколи не було, немає і бути не може. І той, хто думає інакше, — ворог Росії». Це 1861 рік. Валуєвський циркуляр, який забороняв друг книг українською. Що робить Росія, як тільки заходить на окуповані території? Одразу закриває українські школи, забороняє українську мову та знищує українські книжки. На місці українських книжок з’являються російські з переписаною історією, українським дітям насаджують російську ідентичність. Висловлення проукраїнської позиції може обернутись на викрадення та тортури у російському полоні”, – сказала Ольга.
Нині українці активно відновлюють зв’язок зі своїм корінням, усвідомлюючи, наскільки культура та мистецтво важливі для збереження нашої ідентичності. Митці намагаються осмислити війну у всіх можливих форматах і формах. За допомогою мистецтва ми прагнемо зберегти пам’ять і передати важливі цінності майбутнім поколінням. Якщо ми цього не робитимемо, ми ризикуємо зникнути також.
Повний текст промови Ольги Волинської англійською:
The Importance of Art and Culture in Times of War and Crises.
Warm greetings to everyone, and heartfelt thanks for the invitation.
It is truly an honor to be here.
For the past seven years, since 2018, I have been documenting the testimonies of ordinary Ukrainians about Russia’s war crimes. This work was an attempt to document the human experience of war through documentaries and books.
As I became a refugee due to the war, this work feels deeply personal to me.
It is also about preserving the memory of those who are no longer with us and the events that Russia is already trying to rewrite—in history textbooks for future generations, including Ukrainian children in the occupied territories.
Twenty years in journalism have not helped me perceive this detachedly. That’s why I say there is no armor against pain. If you have a heart, it will hurt, no matter where you live. But this is what makes us human.
Today marks the 903rd day of a war – this war not only takes lives and brings destruction but also leaves an irreparable mark on culture and art.
Here are a few figures:
– 1,096—this is the number of cultural heritage sites that have been damaged or destroyed as a result of Russia’s full-scale invasion. There is practically no region today untouched by Russian missiles.
-117 museums, galleries, and nearly 40 theaters, cinemas, and philharmonic halls have been affected.
However, these numbers are not final, as by now, almost the entire Luhansk region and parts of the Zaporizhzhia, Donetsk, and Kherson regions remain under Russian occupation. Therefore, it is impossible to determine the exact number of cultural heritage sites that have been affected.
The destroyed monuments themselves seem to be telling the world that Russia is a terrorist state.
But the destruction of Ukrainian cultural heritage did not start two years ago. It is part of a deliberate, long-term policy aimed at erasing Ukrainian identity.
Ukrainian artists say: The closer you are to Russia, the worse it gets.
Museums closer to the border are destroyed, occupied, or looted. For example, from just one museum—the Kherson Art Museum—10,000 exhibits were stolen, and we recently saw them featured in Russian media reports from Crimea.
It’s like an epidemic of the plague or the final stage of cancer, where everywhere Russia appears, death and destruction follow.
Some theaters have suffered from Russian aggression twice. For instance, the Luhansk Drama Theater was first displaced to Severodonetsk in 2014 due to the occupation of Luhansk. In 2022, the theater was deliberately targeted and destroyed by a Russian tank. It cannot be restored.
In every generation, we have people who, in one way or another, have suffered from the Russian imperial regime, so we have essentially developed a reflex to resist it.
For example, Lviv has a small but very significant museum called the Museum of Terror. It houses testimonies of crimes against civilians during World War II committed by the Nazi regime, followed by the Soviet regime, and now it collects artifacts from the current war.
However, the destruction of Ukrainian identity has always been a part of Russian imperial policy. And Russia’s aggressive, genocidal policies after February 2022 have forced Ukrainians to see themselves differently.
The most significant change for us since the full-scale invasion began is that Ukrainians have come to value more deeply what Russia is trying to take away from us:
Our history.
Our language.
Our traditions and culture.
The most significant surge in ticket sales to Ukrainian theaters happened after the initial shock subsided and the first theaters in Kyiv and other cities began to reopen—people flocked to them, eager to learn more about themselves.
When the new Vivat publishing house opened in Kharkiv last summer, the line stretched not only outside but down the entire block. People were standing in line for Ukrainian books, undeterred by air raid sirens and shelling. It was an incredible sight.
The first performances by Ukrainian theaters were staged in metro stations and bomb shelters, but artists continued to work even while evacuated to western Ukraine. Many of those who left the country have since returned.
Another example of the return to Ukrainian identity since the start of the full-scale war is the desire to stop speaking Russian. This might sound strange. Why do so many Ukrainians speak Russian, and why have we started returning to our native language after the full-scale invasion?
I want to share a quote that explains a lot:
“The Ukrainian language never existed, does not exist, and cannot exist. And anyone who thinks otherwise is an enemy of Russia.”
This is from 1863, the Valuev Circular, which banned the printing of books in Ukrainian.
The Ukrainian language, like Ukrainian culture, literature, and art, has been systematically banned and destroyed—first by the Russian Empire, then by the Soviet regime, and now by the Russian occupation regime.
What does Russia do as soon as it enters occupied territories? It immediately closes Ukrainian schools, bans the Ukrainian language, and destroys Ukrainian books.
In Mariupol, Russians broke into a local church and burned the Ukrainian books.
In place of Ukrainian books, Russian ones with rewritten history appear, and Ukrainian children are indoctrinated with a Russian identity. Expressing a pro-Ukrainian position carries a high risk of being captured, tortured, and even killed.
Here’s just one example: Volodymyr Vakulenko was kidnapped and killed by Russian soldiers in Izyum, Kharkiv region, which was occupied by the Russian army at the beginning of the full-scale invasion. He was a well-known Ukrainian public figure, novelist, poet, translator, author of thirteen books, and laureate of many literary prizes.
He stayed in Izyum. On March 24, the writer was kidnapped from his house. Two months later, his body was found in a mass grave, identified by DNA, with signs of torture…
Artists are not only killed on the battlefield; they are deliberately targeted for their pro-Ukrainian stance.
I want to quote Ukrainian writer Viktoria Amelina:
“As in the 1930s, Ukrainian artists are disappearing; manuscripts are disappearing, and memory is being erased. Times seem to mix and freeze in anticipation of a solution.”
Thirty-seven-year-old Viktoria Amelina was a famous Ukrainian writer whose works have been translated into many languages. She wrote this phrase while searching for Volodymyr Vakulenko’s buried diary. Before his abduction, he managed to bury his diary, which contained his testimonies about life under occupation, under a cherry tree in his garden.
She and Volodymyr’s father found the diary, and she set herself the goal of publishing it and spreading the truth. Amelina managed to present Vakulenko’s Diary, and less than a week later, she was killed in Kramatorsk by a Russian missile. It happened on Volodymyr Vakulenko’s birthday, July 1, 2023.
This event is profoundly tragic but far from an isolated case. Since the start of the full-scale invasion, at least 117 Ukrainian artists have been killed, including actors, artists, directors, sculptors, and representatives of various artistic professions. However, these numbers are incomplete. Many of them died because they volunteered to fight in the war, including women.
As I mentioned, Ukrainians have developed a reflex to fight for their identity. But now, it is much more conscious.
A fascinating museum in Kyiv, the Khanenko Museum, houses a world-class collection of European, Asian, and ancient art—the most significant of its kind in Ukraine. Like many other museums, when the full-scale war began, they hid their collections in storage, with some pieces being exhibited in Poland, Lithuania, and even the Louvre. Shortly after the paintings were removed, a shell struck near the museum…Fortunately, the museum survived; only the windows were blown out by the shockwave. So now the walls of the museum were left bare. Yet visitors still came. In response, the museum staff organized installations in collaboration with a local theater.
Famous Ukrainian singer Jamala also approached the museum with an offer to hold a charity concert within its walls and raise funds for its restoration. However, the museum staff declined—not the concert itself, but the funds for restoration. They said it was better to spend the money not on addressing the consequences but on tackling the cause. A vibrant event took place within the museum’s walls, and with the money raised, the museum staff purchased a sniper rifle for the Ukrainian military.
Now, many Ukrainian artists are trying to be where they are most needed and do what they do best—documenting and reflecting on the war experience.
I want to share the story of Ukrainian documentary filmmaker Alisa Kovalenko, one of the protagonists in my book *How War Changes Us.* Alisa has been documenting Russia’s crimes since the Maidan protests and later filmed in Donbas. While on occupied territory, she was captured and endured an attempted sexual assault but was released due to significant international outcry and support.
When the full-scale invasion began, Alisa stopped filming. She said life is much stronger than movies and volunteered to join the war. She served in an assault company, and her unit miraculously survived one of their operations. However, after four months of fighting, Alisa returned to the cultural front. Her film *We Will Not Fade Away*, about children from front-line towns, caused a sensation at the Biennale. Now, Alisa is presenting the documentary worldwide.
Currently, Ukrainians are actively reconnecting with their roots, realizing how crucial culture and art are for preserving our identity. Artists try to make sense of the war in every possible format and form. Through art, they aim to preserve memory and convey important narratives and values to future generations. If we fail to do this, we risk fading away as well.
At this crucial moment, it is imperative that Europe continues to support Ukraine and its artists, ensuring that the destruction of national identities does not become a new European reality, instead of the values of human rights and democracy.