All opinions expressed are those of the individual and do not necessarily reflect those of the University of Edinburgh.
I’m Anna, a Russian-speaking Jew born in Estonia, who lived between Moscow and Tartu for most of her life. I currently live in Edinburgh. I hold a Master’s degree in Human Osteoarchaeology from the University of Edinburgh - this is a discipline that I love very much and hope to practice in.
I came to the UK in 2014. It was partly to study, but really, I never intended to return. The country I was born in, Estonia, had been quite literally decimated by the Red Army when they came there during the Second World War. My Jewish family witnessed the Doctors’ Trial (the first of the Nuremburg Trials) and had suffered government persecution up until the year of my birth. In fact, when I was born, they still had passports that read “Jewish” in them. My Tatar grandfather was tortured and imprisoned by the NKVD [the Interior Ministry of the Soviet Union), and I grew up despising that regime and the culture of imperialism that had brought suffering to a land I loved, and to the people I considered mine.
I did, and partly still do, identify myself as Russian on the basis of Russian being my mother tongue and because I had spent a long time living and growing up in Moscow. But my feelings about that do not matter now; the conversation should be centred around Ukraine, Ukrainians, and, more broadly, the untold suffering Russia causes and has historically caused to so many. What Russians feel about being Russian is of absolutely no consequence until they do something about it.
"So how I'm feeling is unimportant. How Ukrainians are feeling is what matters."
My current contacts from Ukraine are mostly displaced persons who turn to me for help in order to find refuge in Scotland. I have one young mother who worked in Britain and whose little girl only got out of a warzone days ago. They reunited in Poland the day before yesterday. They’re still stuck abroad because the Home Office won’t give the little girl a visa, and it’s been over a month since they applied.
I have also been contacted by people who, at the time of writing to me, were still in the besieged Mariupol. It is a harrowing experience to get a letter like that and be unable to say, “yes, Britain will let you in quickly - you can be safe here”.
"I had enough. I no longer wished to associate with that country, legally or otherwise."
So yes, I set fire to my Russian passport at a rally in central Edinburgh. Some people called it brave but I do not see it as a brave act. It was a political statement that I hope worked well to attract attention to the problems of a nation being slaughtered by an army of genocidal maniacs.
As a result of burning my passport I can no longer go to Russia and see my best friend or attend the funeral of my father figure. Meanwhile, Ukrainians can no longer see their best friends because they’re dead, and they cannot attend the funerals of their loved ones because there’s nothing left to bury. These things are incomparable. How am I the brave one?
"I think those Russians who can safely do so, at least, owe it to the world to speak up."
Every Russian expat should be working against Russia right now, and it is a moral failure that they’re not.
"Ukraine stands not only for herself but also for the whole of Europe."
If Ukraine did not resist as bravely as it does right now, Russia would already be assaulting the Baltic States and Moldova. The Russian invasion of Ukraine is not a one-off; it is a historical pattern. The West owes its comfort and the lives of its citizens to the Ukrainian army. Supporting Ukraine is not only a moral duty for us but also a practical necessity.
I’m now the Communications Officer and Displaced Persons’ Helpline Manager at Help Ukraine Scotland (HUS). I also help a team of Ukrainian and other Eastern European volunteers maintain our website, which contains a lot of useful information on how to help Ukraine, as well as a Ukrainian-language guide for displaced persons coming to Scotland. I co-wrote with my Ukrainian friends Kostya Tolmachov, who’s also a researcher at the University of Edinburgh, and Ksenia Hrihoryeva.
HUS also supports hundreds of Ukrainian displaced persons in Scotland, providing informational support, helping to find food, money, shelter, assisting with language barriers. We’re lobbying the Ukrainian political cause in Scotland and talking to Neil Gray [Minister for Culture, Europe and International Development in the Scottish Government] about the various issues we encounter that we think the Scottish Government could work to solve.
HUS has had a lot of positive experiences with people who are working to support Ukrainian displaced persons, because they see how important this kind of work is, and also with people whose cultures and countries are familiar with Russian aggression. A wonderful Polish-British teenager comes to every demonstration we organise, bringing with them a Ukrainian flag they sewed by hand. Their mother readily offers support to Ukrainian displaced persons who reach out to us for clothes and food.
On the other hand, we’ve also met with indifference and outright hostility. Some of our Ukrainian activists whose loved ones are dying in this war have been harassed, insulted, and shouted at. Another Jewish volunteer of ours was called a Nazi by a passer-by.
"I feel that as someone who grew up in Moscow and speaks Russian as her mother tongue, I have the right to say this."
In the beginning of the invasion every Eastern European student society at the University of Edinburgh came out in support of Ukraine, except the Russian Society. I was disappointed but not surprised; large communities of Russians abroad all too often become permeated with the poison that is chauvinism, imperialism, and Putinist politics.
My main gripe with universities in general right now is that they offer to support Ukrainian students but in practice seem very hesitant to actually do anything to accommodate Ukrainians. For instance, there’s the matter of entry requirements: universities are demanding school certificates from Ukrainians, but in Ukraine it is common practice for these certificates to be taken away on enrollment in university. Many Ukrainians do not have them, and only have their university documents.
There’s also a dire need for better transfer mechanisms. We have a Ukrainian medical student from year 5 who’s been repeatedly refused entry to year 1 in Scotland. It’s absurd. She’s nearly a qualified doctor, and yet cannot even be a fresher here.
Another useful thing would be to take a clearer ideological stance. The way racism and homophobia should not be tolerated in universities, anti-Ukrainian or pro-Russian sentiment cannot be tolerated either. It should be unacceptable for any university staff member or student to support a state that is committing a genocide, it’s as simple as that.
My future plans include donating even more to the Ukrainian army and continuing to support displaced persons. I will also take every opportunity I have to undermine and harm the Russian government and Russian propaganda.
"Since the beginning of the invasion I have gradually stopped seeing Russia as 'my' country."
Estonia is more my country than Russia right now. My heart is with the people who fight injustice, not with the people who perpetrate it.
"Слава Україні."
For more information on Anna's work visit the Help Ukraine Scotland website.
The University of Edinburgh is supporting our community during the invasion of Ukraine. You can find out more about this on our dedicated Ukraine website.
Illustrations by Philomena Marmion (Edinburgh College of Art graduate): Philomena's website.
Photo of Anna with passport from Glenn Campbell @GlennBBC Twitter.
All opinions expressed are those of the individual and do not necessarily reflect those of the University of Edinburgh.