Reflections on the Culture of May 9th Celebrations

Dear readers, now that the proper period of respectful reverence has cushioned the epic Day of Victory in Russia, constructive criticism may shower its sacred memory.

As years dragged on since my involuntary emigration in 1996 at the impressionable age of 10, I tenaciously clung onto ideals most vivid in my memory. Tears poured from my eyes upon hearing songs of the WWII genre, and I don't mean just tango music of the 30s and 40s. I mean there's a real genre of music in Russia that is solely about war, and is rather beautiful; everyone can sing along or at at least hum to its melodies. My empathy for the unknown soldiers who died in wars unknown to me (all those fought after WWII, of which there are many) ran deep and hurt my soul. It was a strange feeling. The emotion was exclusive to my country of origin, it never occurred to me that maybe the empathy should run as deep for other nations and their losses.

The feeling was so innate and I never questioned it, until this May 9th. For the first time in my adult life I witnessed what the actual day looked liked. I saw the televised procession of militant humans and machines. I saw the powerful congregations of civilians walking in memory of their lost ancestors, four generations passed. I thought of the implications of these elements.

The present Russian government capitalizes on the sense of camaraderie of its civilians in this colossal and very righteous event that transgressed 70 plus years ago. The Soviet people beat the Nazis and saved the world. The Russian government can now use this event as the means to justify investing in its military power. On May 9th they can show off all the young recruits marching through the streets of major cities, who can only hope to live up to the deity-status of those who died in WWII. All the civilians can bestow complacent pride upon the rivers of future casualties. People's desire to congregate for a cause is quenched in a union of a politically supported, and militantly accommodated Immortal Regiment to commemorate the much appreciated casualties of WWII. Nationalism is fortified yearly, on May 9th.

I question the sincerity of my government sponsored empathy for the soldiers of my mother nation and their sacrifices for the safety of their families. I no longer cry when I listen to one of my favorite genres of Russian music. I enjoy it with a sober apprehension of its power to affect my mentality.

I can't help but feel a sense of shame for my cavalier commentary, I know May 9th is truly sacred to my people. Nevertheless I feel it is necessary.

Some televised snippets of televised programming:

May 9th and the Immortal Regiment

Today was Victory Day in Russia. Many celebrate this day full heartedly. Investment in festivities on a national and personal level can probably be considered greater than any other holiday in Russia throughout the year. WWII has touched this country in a very tremendous and lasting way. To give an insight I'll briefly tell my family's experience. My mom is Russian and from St. Petersburg. My father is Armenian and from a Georgian village and his family was not at all involved in the war. So this is relevant for only one side of my family.

My great Grandfather died fighting in the war. My great grandmother was left in charge of two children, one 4 years old and one 6 years old at the start of the war. She lived with them in St. Petersburg, and managed to not only survive herself through the blockade, but also save both of her children from starvation. My own grandmother and her younger brother witnessed death, sickness and the depraved desperation of humanity from famine and cold at an early age. They lived to be functioning adults, raised their own families. My mother, growing up, spent a lot of time with her grandmother, who told her many stories of her experience in the war. My own grandmother has told me many stories about her experience in the war also. And thus we have four generations, two of which were actually physically present in WWII and two who are the direct descendants of these survivors and have first hand accounts of what happened.

While I only have one side of my family that has sustained death, loss, and survival, others have much larger families and people on both sides, their father's and their mother's, with deep roots in this gigantic monster of a war. Today I saw small children, who would be the 5th generation removed, interviewed by news crews in the streets of our city, telling them very clearly and with understanding who their predecessors were in the war and what they did and how they died. These children felt pride in their ancestor's contributions and sacrifices to the nation for the well being of its people. When I have my own children I will also be telling them these stories.

Until this year I was convinced that all people felt this pride who were from Russia. I found out recently, only yesterday in fact, that some people whose families were not directly involved, do not actually care. I was surprised to find this out because I am part of that culture of immense pride in the contributions, sacrifices and the ability to survive through the adversity of WWII. But having lived in America for as long as I have (since 1996) I do have a new perspective, coming back and really seeing this celebration first hand after so many years. Hearing other people's opinions and knowing something about human psychology from sheer life experience has opened up a new dialogue in my mind about why the Russian people in such large numbers feel such immense pride in this particular event and how it effects them on a personal and national levels.

I'd like to write more on this subject, but being as this day is so sacred to so many people, I'd like to leave that discussion for another day and close this with some videos from today's March of the Immortal Regiment. An even where all people who have family members that have been effected by WWII bring photos of their ancestors, if they have them, and come to the main streets to march in their memory. I went with my great grandmother's photo, her name is Taisiya Ivanovna Susoeva, 1906-1983.

Here are some videos from the time before the actual march started. I started taking a few videos when people were just arriving and joining the formation for the actual event. By the time I found my place in the crowd there were so many people and we were so tightly packed that there was no sense in trying to take any videos because all I could see was the people directly around me and nothing much else.