In a project of Suspilne Culture – “No brotherhood – there wasn't one, isn't and will never be” people from across Ukraine's creative and cultural industries explain in their columns, how Russia has been trying to destroy Ukrainian identity for years (or even centuries).
All materials will be published in both Ukrainian and English. Russia's informational aggression has been a part of the daily discourse in Ukraine for a long time, especially after Maidan in 2014. Now we need to make this context available abroad to show that we've been fighting this war for way more than just a month.
An op-ed by the music reviewer Yurii Bereza looks into how Russian culture has set an example to follow, encouraging murder and rape, and argues why the world should get rid of this toxic narrative.
Ukrainian version is available here.
Translated from Ukrainian by Lisa Bolotova.
Over the last weeks, social media have been actively sharing statements by the intellectual part of Russian society. In a nutshell, they all come down to, “You want to cancel us, but what about ballet? What about Russian classics? Composers? Directors? Can you really strike out an integral part of the world’s cultural context?”
In the first quarter of a second, an idea flashes into your mind, “What does it have to do with the heritage of artists that lived before?”. This is a thought open to interpretation. On the one hand, we might feel pity and compassion, but on the other hand, their thesis is irrelevant for a score of reasons. First, we all know how their greats slighted Ukraine. Second, the firmest advocates of the idea are the people who have no relation to this heritage whatsoever.
This is a blatant and desperate attempt to grasp at a straw held out by the civilized world, not to sink down into the abyss of darkness and barbarity.
Let’s be honest: most of the people writing this neither attend ballet performances nor read Dostoievskyi in third-wave coffee shops. These people take their cue from contemporary mass culture and its names that used to play to packed houses in our cities and top the charts of streaming services like Niletto or Zivert. Or, say, the Russian blogger Yurii Dud, who in his last video genuinely asked, “Is it true that it was Russians who bombed Kharkiv and not Ukrainians doing that to themselves?”
What is true is that with the back catalog of recent years, Russia has little to no chance of remaining a part of humanity's treasury. That’s because its mass culture is unwanted, what with its toxicity and all the harm it can inflict.
It was not in 2014 when it started but in the roaring nineties, after the collapse of the Soviet Union. Even then, culture was soaked with toxicity. Mayhem and freedom in lawless actions. The strong beating the weak and boasting of it. Unrequited love in which bruises are treated with ice.
Blatnyak and bubblegum pop to the accompaniment of a cheap synthesizer for pleasure. They were a foundation of sorts, which with time turned to just imitating trends. Paradoxically, those times are missed perhaps even more than the Sovok. Maybe because then everyone could do anything at all and never face the music.
But thanks to the internet, we eventually gained access to modern psychology and took it in. It enabled us to interpret scientifically what we heard from our speakers. The music that used to be described as relatable and romantic at the table after a bottle of vodka.
Here are a few examples for you. In her song Kolybelnaya (Lullaby), Tatiana Bulanova is telling her son that it’s her fault he is growing up without a father. Not his father’s, who apparently gaslighted the woman and abandoned the family. In Serye Glaza (Grey Eyes), Irina Saltykova loves a man who is deliberately manipulating her, even though her peers are urging her to leave him and find a healthy relationship. And Katya Lel in Moy Marmeladny (My Sweetie) is not only sweeping her manipulative behavior under the carpet but also childishly failing to call sex by its name.
Modern music has way more examples. Every other track by the rapper Skryptonite scorns and depreciates women on cocaine. The more, the uglier. Something similar is happening in Grustnaya Pesnya (Sad Song) by Thrill Pill featuring Egor Krid and Morgenshtern. The rapper 10Age in his track Pushka (Weapon) accuses others of provoking his aggression. In #Alkogolichka (Alcoholic), Artur Pirozhkov is mocking a woman who cannot fight her substance abuse. In the song Obezoruzhena (Disarmed), Polina Gagarina romanticizes the image of a woman in a codependent relationship. Meanwhile, the band Krovostok romanticizes the image of a crime kingpin and death by any means in almost every song. Let’s name Stolyarka (Joinery) as an example. There’s also the rapper Husky with his pyromaniacal plea “to behead, piss on, and set fire to them”. Or, say, the rapper Gio Pika with his romanticization of prison culture in the track Buino Golova 5 (Wildly Head 5).
Naturally, one could easily find an excuse here in an artist’s vision or self-identification. Or the idea of “music being outside of politics”, which, as we now know, doesn’t cut it. Because the US, the UK, or elsewhere has enough artists writing and performing songs about the same stuff. That is true, but there is one big difference. For the most part, such a song abroad will indeed remain an artist’s vision or self-identification, without turning into a guide.
Culture, no matter its quality, is always one of the factors shaping one’s worldview. Russian pop culture normalizes being marginal and smug through (not only) music with coke, “bitches,” the AUE cultA vaguely defined organization of criminal gangs mainly consisting of children and teenagers in Russia, with the acronym in its name standing for “Arestantskii Uklad Edin” – “the jailhouse way is one” – Editor’s Note, and guns in a glove box. The listener hears it once, twice, and then for the tenth time. And thought is ripening in their head – if they sing about it, it means I can do it. All the more so if you live in a depressing area. For the most part, those who came to our land to kill have not heard any other music. One can only guess what mess in Russian soldiers’ heads makes them commit such appalling crimes in Ukraine.
These artists have become role models not only for troops but for civilians too. It is not about what their heroes do in songs but what the performers do in real life. And in real life, these and other performers have either ignored/said nothing about the crimes or even supported them. Yet again, when your life is defined by depression, you want to become at least one bit of what your idol is. And it never ends well.
Ukrainian streaming charts have started to discard this toxicity little by little. Though slowly, culture is transforming. There is still much work to be done, many people to root out from our field.
At the same time, it would not be fair to say that we ourselves are without sin. First, the Russian narrative will chase us, but we know its true face. Second, we too have issues with personalities in our music and the quality of the content they produce. We will resolve them as well. Still, unlike Russia, we are in a much better state overall. Because if nothing else, we don’t want to kill anyone but our foes.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Suspilne Culture.
Further reading
- Music is outside of politics? Tell that to the dead in Bucha
- What could the future hold for Ukrainian music when the war ends — explained by Yurii Bereza
- The Mysterious Soul, or How Dostoievskyi formed Russian society
- Against Interpretation: why Russian film critics don't hit home with us
- A brief history of Russian propaganda
- Is "Russian world" heresy or neo-nazism? Explained by Kostiantyn Doroshenko
