Ventsel: In Georgia, Kazakhstan and Moldova, Russia is still 'one of us'

Aimar Ventsel, writing for ERR News, reflects on his time spent in Georgia, Kazakhstan and Moldova. He notes that Estonia has a clear distance from Russia, but for many in these countries Russia is "one of us" — a foreign country in the same way Latvia is for Estonians.

Ventsel stayed in Georgia for about a month in late June and July, a period he describes as the hottest, with temperatures often reaching 37 degrees. He travelled from Adjara to Kakheti, including areas near the Turkish border and central Georgia. In April he was in Kazakhstan, mainly around the northern city of Karaganda. A few years earlier he spent several months in Moldova.

In Ventsel's view, the Baltic states are the most economically and institutionally developed among former Soviet republics. Estonia stands out because the Soviet Union is its least important reference point — the country has left that past behind. Georgia, by contrast, is "a complete catastrophe" in this regard: many people over 40 start talking about Soviet times, comparing life under "the communists," and "communist" is not always a swear word. Some entrepreneurs say things are better now, but many compare the present unfavourably, saying "it was better under the communists." In entire regions, the Soviet collapse meant not only loss of jobs but also electricity, gas and cheap subsidised food.

In Kazakhstan, comparisons with Soviet times are also common, but not in a positive way. Kazakhs remember being a minority and second-class citizens in their own homeland. Newcomers from across the former USSR reminded Kazakhs that they should be grateful for being brought "civilisation" and "culture," turning nomadic herders into "civilised" people. Kazakh culture and language were suppressed, and Islam was pushed underground. Ventsel notes that Kazakh sufism saved Islam and identity: since nomads could not attend mosques regularly, the oldest man in the family, the aksakal, acted as religious authority, allowing prayer and customs to survive.

In Moldova, emphasising Soviet heritage is highly political and typical of pro-Russian politicians and supporters. About half of the population believes the country's only path is together with Russia. There is an economic reason: Russia is a more important market for Moldovan goods than the EU.

In all three countries, Russian is the first language used with foreigners. Despite Georgians saying that Russian is disappearing and English is taking over, Ventsel found it hard to manage outside central Tbilisi and Batumi's tourist areas without Russian. For Estonia, Russia is "the other," while in Moldova, Kazakhstan and Georgia it is "one of us." A colleague in Kazakhstan once told him: "For us, the Soviet Union is the Homeland." With a capital letter. The boundary between the Soviet Union and Russia fades in a positive sense. Shared culture includes music from Kino to Soviet-era pop, jokes everyone understands, well-known films, and even the word "comrade" and coins called kopecks.

Ventsel concludes that Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania have mentally turned their backs on Russia, but most former Soviet republics have not. This world is visible everywhere: Russian pop plays in taxis, Soviet pioneer songs are heard in children's playgrounds, walls are covered with posters for Russian concerts, and many people watch Russian television.