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On a colleague’s bookshelf I recently found a booklet containing
some picture postcard views of Sochi. The usual snapshots, like the
ones that are printed for visiting tourists to any medium-sized town.
The names of the booklet’s authors did not say very much to me. But the
press that produced it bears the name of Leo Tolstoy, and is apparently
a local one, based in the city. Everything in the booklet is connected
with celebrities, past or present.
I examined the cards carefully, one after the other. After all, it
was my homeland, the Caucasus. When I’m away from home I always feel
drawn to it, because it lies two or three hundred kilometres away. I
had picked up the booklet, not with a thrill, perhaps, but certainly
with interest. I didn’t put it back on the shelf. I threw it away.
The cards were accompanied by explanatory texts. From one of them I
learned that the Orthodox Michael Archangel Cathedral in downtown Sochi
is "the city’s oldest structure". Its construction began in late May
1872, and the money for the building work was collected by the first
Russian settlers in the form of charity donations. Donors included the
Grand Duke Mikhail Romanov, the millionaire Nikolai Mamontov and the
landowner Alexander Vereshchagin. The cathedral was designed by
Alexander Kaminsky, who also drafted the plans for the main building of
Moscow’s Tretyakov Gallery.
If we are to believe the booklet’s editors – and there is no reason
not to – the call "to begin as soon as possible in the new lands the
construction of places of worship that would elevate the spirits of the
Russian settlers” came from Fyodor Dostoyevsky. After the Black Sea
coast became part of Russia in the mid- XIXth century, he published an
article about it in the Citizen journal, and the Michael
Archangel Cathedral was the first "response" it got. The building was
dedicated to “the head of the heavenly host” and his earthly
incarnation at the time – the Russian Tsar's brother, who from 1861 to
1881 was governor general of the Caucasus and commander-in-chief of the
many thousand-strong army stationed there.
Another card said that beside the uniquely beautiful Zmeykovsky
Waterfalls there were two villages “founded by Russian settlers in the
late 19th century” – Izmaylovka and Semyonovka, which housed veterans
of the Izmailovo and Semyonov Regiments respectively. Originally serfs,
these men had been drilled into soldiers, and were then retired as
colonists to appropriate and develop the new territories.
The rest of the cards informed the reader that some of the public
buildings in Sochi were build on the orders of Joseph Stalin, that the
singer Alla Pugacheva tries to come here every year and give concerts,
and that the popular Soviet film director Leonid Gaidai’s "Captive of
the Caucasus" and "The Diamond Arm" were filmed in the city and its
environs. The booklet shimmers with names: Leonid Brezhnev, Yuri
Gagarin, Anatoly Karpov, Vladimir Putin (how could we do without him,
the skiing enthusiast and devotee of “Our Russia”), as well as the
names of rivers and woods, creeks and mountain peaks. The latter mostly
not Russian and not connected with the usual parade of the great and
the mighty. But why are they here?
For the uninitiated, the inside of the booklet’s cover provides a
brief history of the region. There is a description of its former
inhabitants who lived here before the "settlers" from the north
arrived. But the lives of these earlier inhabitants were somehow
lacking in human, and even Christian qualities, if we recall that the
resort’s main attractions are religious symbols: churches, crosses and
monuments to "heavenly soldiers".
Having informed us that the first human beings on the Caucasus Black
Sea coast appeared "about 400,000 years ago”, the booklet’s authors go
on to describe the Scythians, Sarmatians and Meotians. We are told that
the ancient Greeks founded "trading colonies" here, and that "the Roman
general Pompey the Great is said to have passed through this district
on his way to wage war against Mithridates, the King of Pontus. There
is also mention of the “great Byzantine Empire" (seen by some as a
precursor of modern-day Russia), in the period of its ascendancy, of
course, and not in that of its shameful fall. This is followed by a
single line of text: "For many years representatives of the Adyghe
tribes – the Abadzekh, the Ubykh and the Shapsug – were inhabitants of
this region.”
Yes, they owned this land not for thousands of years, but only for
"many". And in fact they did not really own it at all – they were just
“inhabitants”. Whether for five, ten, thirty years, it is not
important. The main thing is that they did not put roots down here,
they went away. Where and how they went is not explained. If we are to
believe the booklet’s authors, the only wars were fought with Turkey.
They explain that as a result of one of these, in 1828-29, “The Black
Sea coast was transferred to Russia.” It turns out that there never was
any decades-long resistance by the mountain tribes, that their villages
were never burned down, they were never driven out by force, and
General Grigory Khristoforovich Zass with his trunkloads of Circassian
skulls never existed. There was simply a peaceful relocation to new
territories and the building of villages and hamlets, churches and
resorts following the call of great men (and who will deny that Fyodor
Dostoyevsky was a great writer?).
Fate has been as merciless to the earlier-mentioned ethnic groups as
it was to the other Circassian tribes, about whom the booklet’s authors
are modestly silent. Even after all these years they are unwilling to
recognize these groups as the rightful and indigenous dwellers of the
Black Sea coast, to remember that they once lived here, built houses
and sowed grain, bore children and buried their relatives, defend this
land for themselves, sword in hand. It would seem to be so simple: not
to dissemble, making pretend guesses about questions like whether the
word “Sochi” derives from Turkish or French. After all, there is no one
to claim these territories. There are no owners – they were assimilated
or vanished forever abroad. Go on, recognize the Circassians – then
perhaps you will have repented.
But no – that is the thing that Russia will never do. That would
destroy the elegant picture which is now the customary one, and would
tear it at the seams. "Russia brought civilization to the Caucasus!" is
painted on that picture in thick, juicy characters, and if it has
killed anyone, it was for their own good. It’s so comfortable to feel
that one is in the right. If the facts contradict too eagerly they can
be ignored, forgotten, passed over in silence, removed from the context
of the events of the past, and thus any embarrassing sense of holes in
history can be avoided. It is in one of those holes that the Russians
try to drown the memory of the Ubykh, the Abadzekh and the Shapsug.
Had the booklet’s authors written that many of the inhabitants of
Sochi and its adjoining regions were massacred and even more driven out
and deported, they would have had to point to the conquerors'
historical guilt. And it does not look good that the whole of Russian
society united around the distribution of the land that was seized –
from the Tsar and his brother to the peasants and serfs, with a central
role featuring the names of the country's famous architects,
industrialists and great writers. Names that are the glory of Russian
culture.
Set of 15 cards: Sochi, Pearl of Russian Resorts, Lev Tolstoy Press, 2009.
Photo: Circassian Site. By Usam Baysayev, special to Prague Watchdog (Translation by DM) © 2010 Prague Watchdog
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