Lithuanians organise for freedom and reach out to Russian mothers

We were born just when our country took independence back from the USSR. We are called "The generation of independence". We're using "took" very consciously here because the war in Europe reminds us that freedom is a right that you have to actively fight for. And our families did fight for it. We were reminded of it every Christmas Eve at the dinner table, every election, every time a generational conflict occurred. We would be lying if we said that countless movies and poems that we had to memorize by heart didn't make us scoff at some point.

We grew up in a privilege of freedom to criticize a romanticized view of heroic fighting, overuse of national symbols, populistic and opportunistic appeal to patriotism. One of us made a photography project critisizing re-introduction of the conscript army in Lithuania, while another has been advocating for a less traditionalist, more feminist-oriented school literature curriculum. And you know what? It's easy to do that when you are safe, free, and not in a survival mode.

The war in Ukraine triggered an intergenerational trauma in Lithuania that was looming under our skin. While we enjoyed the whole package of democracy, unimagined even to the generation before us - voicing our opinions, protesting policies we disagree with, critiquing the government, exploring the vast world without borders, the pain was always there, yet buried deep inside. But now, it all came rushing to the surface.

1. During the years 1940-1953, Lithuania lost 33% of its population.

2. 1.2 million people were deported, sentenced to death, incarcerated, murdered for political reasons, or forced to flee.

3. As a professor of clinical psychology DanutÄ— GailienÄ— wrote, during the years of 1990-2000 the deaths in Central and Eastern Europe exceeded the predicted number of deaths by 4 million people. In her book "Life in Lithuania from the point of view of trauma psychology" she explains that the cause of this was the prolonged psycho-social stress. While Germany admitted its wrong-doing in WWII, Russia never took responsibility for the terror the communist regime caused. And in trauma psychology one thing is very clear - the perpetrator has to admit its wrongdoing or to make retributions for the victim to heal fully.

The Eastern Bloc (or - Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Ukraine, Belarus as we know it) has always lived bordering Russia. Russia was always creeping somewhere deep in our political and cultural discourse. Even now, we can track down conversations we had when we were kids, teenagers, young adults. This hypothetical question "What would you do if we were occupied again?" has been appearing in the sandboxes, in the classrooms, during parties in between intense dance sessions.

We've grown up with this image of the Kremlin as a mythological beast that was breathing down the neck of every child that dares to imagine anxiety-free existence.

And now we saw its face.

And now it all falls into place.

And it's appearing before us as flashbacks of history we've already lived through as a country.

1. The Molotov - Ribentrop Pact in 1939 between Nazi Germany and USSR gave Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia and a part of Poland to the former USSR. After World War II ended, we were made into a "necessary sacrifice" and stayed occupied for another 50 years.

2. Our guerilla fighters, or "The forest brothers", as we call them, were resisting the Soviet occupation until 1957 when the last leader of them was killed.

The everyday acts of bravery was also a proof of a great desire to decide our own way of living, to have our own culture and country in our hands. And today, the war in Ukraine also reminds us of a feeling of being forgotten, left alone, abandoned by the western world.

Even until now, being a member of EU and NATO, Lithuania has been trying to prove its existence to the western countries: we are not that monolithic "Eastern bloc", we are not the exoticized or stereotypical version you show on your entertainment TV, portraying us as criminals and hookers. We live and breathe the same ideals and the same inner-conflicts. Our generation can't imagine a world where we're not free. Same as yours. But the inner conflicts don't matter anymore because Ukrainians are fighting for something you all take for granted. And the former president of Ukraine Petro Poroshenko is fighting alongside his competitor Volodymyr Zelenskyy. Poets and ballet dancers are fighting alongside politicians. Because you can't discuss feminism, equality, lgbt+ rights when you are being bombed by the enemy. You have to unite against it.

We, here, are rich in culture, technology, and great thinkers. Right now, to be divided or neutral is a privilege we cannot afford. A conflict happens between two equal sides. It occurs when we debate how to name a street or who to elect for a city council. This is not a Ukrainian conflict. This is war. This war is between the oppressor and the oppressed. And this war isn't just happening on a heroic battlefield where two armies are marching towards each other; the russian military is destroying Ukrainian universities and hospitals, bombing beautiful city of Kyiv to the ground.

The heart of Europe now beats in Kyiv. If they're brave enough to fight for it and protect it, be brave enough to call this what it is - a war. And be brave enough to act as if your own people, ideals, and culture are being destroyed. Because it is.

PS

We believe in the power of art to embolden and empower people. For those, who are unfamiliar with the culture that is under attack right now, we provided a short (and definitely not conclusive) list that will struck a chord:

Listen: DakhaBrakha, Katarina Gryvul, Nikolaienko, Kalush, Alina Pash, Go_A, Vivienne Mort, Haydamaky.

Read: Ilya Kaminsky, Lyuba Yakimchuk, Serhiy Zhadan, Olga Bragina, Kolya Kulinich, Vasyl Makhno, Halyna Kruk, Kateryna Mikhalitsyna, Borys Khersonsky.

Watch: Oxygen Starvation (1992) by Andrii Donchyk; My thoughts are silent (2019) by Antonio Lukich; Shadows of Forgotten Ancestors (1965) by Sergei Paradjanov; The guide (2014) by Oles Sanin; Maidan (2014) by Sergei Loznitsa; Gamer (2011) by Oleg Sentsov; Julia Blue (2020) by Roxy Toporowych.