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29 years ago today the Soviet Union ceased to exist. It's a celebrated day in the West. It's more complicated for those who lived through it.
We went to bed as Soviet citizens and woke up as Russians, Ukrainians, Belarusians, Uzbeks, Kazakhs, etc...
For Jews in Eastern Europe you could joke that once again the borders moved while we didn't, and once again we were apparently the foreigners.
For Jews in Eastern Europe you could joke that once again the borders moved while we didn't, and once again we were apparently the foreigners.
There's a lot that's been written on the experience in the days, weeks, and months after the fall of the empire. Mostly what sticks with me was the lack of basic goods. No heat in the winter. No baby formula, few medicines.
Vodka was, for a time, a currency on the black market.
Vodka was, for a time, a currency on the black market.
You can read from other writers whose families chose to stay on what became of the post-Soviet countries and how people there understand it.
But my family and I left. So did many others. For the children of Soviets, we grew up not in national diasporas, but a Soviet one.
But my family and I left. So did many others. For the children of Soviets, we grew up not in national diasporas, but a Soviet one.
In America our groceries came from "international" stores which sold all the Soviet classics. I am not a child of the 60s or 70s, but I know the Soviet cartoons and comedies of the era intimately. I adore this inheritance.
So do most of my friends who grew up in this milieu.
So do most of my friends who grew up in this milieu.
Lately, as my Russian-speaking friends are all starting their families and I am preparing for the same, there's something akin to grief that comes up in our conversations on what the next generation will inherit, know, and care about.
Nobody mourns the Soviet Union as a government. It disappeared our families. It engaged in cultural genocide against non-Russian minorities.
Russian is my mother tongue, but we buried my great grandmother in 2019 who barely spoke it.
What are we mourning?
Russian is my mother tongue, but we buried my great grandmother in 2019 who barely spoke it.
What are we mourning?
This answer may change. But the closest I can put it into words now is: Our children will not be like us. They will be Americans, Israelis, and Germans.
I imagine learning about the Soviet Union for them will be akin to learning about the Austro-Hungarian empire.
I imagine learning about the Soviet Union for them will be akin to learning about the Austro-Hungarian empire.
The Soviet Union died on this day 29 years ago. The societies that rose in its wake have their own baggage, but they do it rooted to ideas about the future they shaped.
Those of us who left are walking cultural time capsules. No one will follow in our footsteps.
Those of us who left are walking cultural time capsules. No one will follow in our footsteps.
