guest post series: laura in izhevsk

Today's insightful post comes from Laura in the Udmurt Republic.  I'm especially glad to have Laura's post on the blog because the Udmurt people are of the same Finno-Ugric lineage as the Karelians.  It's interesting to see the similarities and differences in the way ethnic culture is treated in two republics with some shared characteristics.  Thanks, Laura!

When I first came to the Udmurt Republic, I was eager to experience this new ethnic culture and learn more about these redheaded people (statistically, the second-most redheaded in the world, after the Irish) who have lived for more than 400 years alongside the Russians. Ever since Ivan the Terrible expanded Russia to include the Tatar Khanate, and along the way absorbed the Udmurt nation, Udmurts have lived in a Russian-dominated landscape. They were converted from nature-worshipping pagans to Russian Orthodoxy and assimilated many of the traditions of Russian village life.

Upon arriving in Izhevsk, the capital of the Udmurt Republic, I was surprised by how much it seemed like many other Russian cities; there was the same industrial decay and squat soviet architecture seen elsewhere in the country. Actually, thanks to a WWII initiative to move all “essential industry” away from the wartime front, the Udmurt Republic houses many nuclear, industrial, and weapons factories, including the maker of the AK-47. In the central square, which houses the republic’s Theater of Opera and Ballet, a decrepit TsUM (the ubiquitous soviet shopping mall), and two bustling movie complexes (one which is 3D), you can see an aged edifice of soviet power: an angular monument dedicated to the “Friendship of Peoples.” It is a vertical totem with three general motifs: it features the towering image of a hammer and sickle benevolently hanging above a male factory laborer and a female farmer who float over an anvil with a newly-minted gun. Because of its shape, locals affectionately call this monument “the clothespin” or the “Skis of Kulakova,” a famous Olympic gold medalist skier who is from the area.

There are a few hints in the capital of Udmurt national culture – the prevalence of wide-faced, almond-eyed redheads (which is generally how Udmurts look), cute clay whistles and wooden national instruments, mostly recreations from archaeological digs, and the existence of the Udmurt National Theater, where you can attend a number plays in Udmurt. A sad fact about the Udmurt National Theater, though, is that while the plays are in Udmurt, a Finno-Ugric language related to Finnish, Hungarian, Estonian, and Karelian, when the actors go out for a smoke break, they talk to each other in Russian. 

The Udmurt culture is dying, and it’s clear to see to those who are looking. There are a couple of vocal revival groups for Udmurt dance, song, national dress, and instruments, but generally speaking, people in Izhevsk think little of living in an internal republic within Russia, and consider Izhevsk more as a smaller city in Russia (at 600,000+ people, more than our nation’s capital Washington, DC, Izhevsk is the 19^th largest city in Russia) that lacks the prestige or job opportunities of Moscow or St. Petersburg.

There are some activists, however, who strive to increase cultural awareness and sensitivity, and to promote Udmurt national culture, language, and heritage. As one can imagine, they’re facing an uphill battle. For one, although many Udmurts who live in the small villages which make up much of the Udmurt Republic speak Udmurt to the exclusion of Russian in their families, Russian is the lingua franca. Furthermore, many Udmurts who leave their villages for better work opportunities and travel to Izhevsk (which houses approximately 60% of the republic’s population) frequently try to lose their Udmurt accent and abandon the language, since the accent associated with Udmurt speakers is considers rough and country bumpkinish. Every year less and less people self-identify as Udmurts on the census, because saying as much about one’s heritage means claiming a certain amount of social stigma as well. 

Another issue is that it’s difficult to determine how much of the Udmurt culture is left to preserve. A sad fact is Tsarist Russia, as well as the Soviet Union encouraged assimilation into a greater Russian culture. The Udmurts had a national epic, similar to the Kalevala, Finland’s national epic – set mostly in Karelia – which spurred ethnic pride and resolve to declare independence from Swedish and Russian influences. Unfortunately, the original compilation of ballads and tales was translated into Russian during the Soviet Union; somehow, in the meantime, the original was destroyed, and now the Udmurts are attempting to piece back their national epic and symbol of ethnic independence by translating it back from Russian into Udmurt. 

The activists I spoke to do have hope, though. In the time of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Hungarian was spoken only by peasants, while Hungarian nobles fled to live in Vienna and speak German. Estonians also faced a similar dilemma not that long ago, when barely any people at all spoke Estonian. Now, with a strong national movement, many Estonian-born Russians feel as though they are in a hostile country. I doubt anything so drastic will happen in the Udmurt Republic, but for the sake of cultural and linguistic preservation, I hope more Udmurts become proud of their cultural heritage and traditions.