russian colonialism 101: revenge vs justice.
Hey there.
This one will be a bit more personal than usual. I once survived rape. In a bizarre twist of fate, these days, I am reminded of what happened following the assault every time a foreigner speaks to me about Ukraine and Russian colonialism. Let me explain:
Sexual violence is traumatic enough on its own. But when you are an assaulted queer man in a homophobic environment, it gets extra dark because your account is constantly questioned or disregarded. It was 17 years ago, and Ukraine was a very different place. Filing a report to the police wasn't an option — you could get additionally abused. But even in the closest circle, I was gaslighted at every turn:
'You're too emotional. All gays make so much drama about everything'
'You're being irrational. Not wanting to share a space with a co-worker because of personal issues is unprofessional' (yes, the rapist was a senior-level colleague)
'Are you sure you didn't provoke him?'
'This must be a misunderstanding. You both have so much in common and should just talk it over'
'You sound distressed. You should seek mental help instead of demanding anything from that person'
'Being hateful won't help you to convince others'
At some point, I gave up. Gave up not only seeking justice but even seeking comfort from my friends. Folks were uncomfortable talking about this & instead would give me a clear signal that I should be less dramatic about it and take a chill pill (some suggested actual medication.)
Little did I know that fast-forwarding 17 years, I'd be hearing the exact same arguments but in entirely different circumstances: when foreigners talk to me about genocide in Ukraine and my refusal to share a space with Russians. According to most Ukrainians and other nations once colonized by Russia, Russians share a collective responsibility for centuries of Russian colonial atrocities. But most Ukrainians, especially abroad, are routinely dismissed as emotional, hysterical, and unstable when we point it out. Even if we tell our stories with relative calm informed by generational knowledge of living next to a colonial and genocidal neighbor. Our need to avoid re-traumatizing and sharing a space with other Russians as their relatives and compatriots keep slaughtering our families is labeled as 'hateful' and 'xenophobic.'
As prominent Ukrainian artist and researcher Lia Dostileva reminds us (here in Polish and Ukrainian), this attitude has a deep colonial foundation in pathologizing dissent not only by colonized people but also people of color, queer people, and women. Western culture of marginalizing 'uncomfortable' voices dates back centuries.
But I am not going to make the same mistake. I won't give up. I won't be shamed for feeling emotional about the abuse. I won't be victim-blamed. I won't be patronized by 'hug it out' suggestions. I won't be dismissed when I point out that this abuse is not random or a mistake or misunderstanding but premeditated by a well-established serial behavior. I will keep informing and educating the world about the crimes and nature of Russian colonialism.
As a Ukrainian, I don't hate Russians for being Russian, but for generations of them abusing us, robbing us of everything and everyone we love without facing any consequences or ever taking any responsibility for it.
As a Ukrainian, I don't seek revenge. I seek justice.
here is what's in store for you this week:
remembering the deadliest crime ever committed by Russian colonialism;
one family story that tells you everything you need to know about the darkest side of Russian colonization of Crimea;
how Russian cinema routinely dehumanized Ukrainians and laid the groundwork for the ongoing genocide.
curious for more? let's go.