After February 24, 2022, some internally displaced persons from Donetsk and Luhansk regions began dramatically changing their cultural habits—switching to Ukrainian language in everyday life, rejecting Russian music, and perceiving national traditions in a new way. Cultural studies scholar Larysa Osadcha calls this phenomenon "reculturation"—a conscious return to authentic Ukrainian culture after decades of foreign influence. About how war transforms our cultural memory, why intangible heritage proved more resilient than material heritage, and how to emotionally synchronize a divided society—Ms. Larysa spoke with Волноваха.City.
Background: Larysa Osadcha is a doctoral candidate at the National Academy of Culture and Arts Management, PhD in Philosophy, Master of Political Science, and lecturer. The scholar studies manifestations of contemporary culture: cultural and communicative memory, sociocultural modernization, modern subcultures, and cultural policy.
After the start of the full-scale war, some internally displaced persons from Donetsk and Luhansk regions began changing their own cultural codes. Is there a defined term for this phenomenon, and how can such behavior be promoted in society?
— The phenomenon when displaced persons from Luhansk and Donetsk regions began changing cultural codes (cultural semiosphere), I would identify as reculturation. We distinguish socialization—the individual's acquisition of rules and norms of behavior of a particular society (this is what happens with Ukrainian displaced persons of adult age in their countries of forced residence), and enculturation—the individual's acquisition of cultural codes, norms, meanings, and worldview of a particular ethnic community. Enculturation occurs from childhood through the closest (reference) groups. This happens latently, imperceptibly—through language, family customs, family history, educational institutions. Enculturation typically does not occur when moving to another country. Enculturation into two cultures is possible when a child has contact with different national cultures, for example, when parents are representatives of different national communities, or when a child lives in an area of compact settlement of a particular ethnic community on the territory of another country—Chinatown in London (Chinese of Britain), Italian quarter in New York (Italians of America), Ukrainian community in Toronto (Ukrainians of Canada).
In cultural anthropology, it is used when referring to a return to authentic culture after a period of foreign influence or assimilation. The term appears in the works of Bronisław Malinowski. In my opinion, it is most suitable for describing cultural transformations in Ukraine, particularly in the example of conscious Ukrainization of people from the most Russified former regions and cities of our country. Sometimes people also speak of decolonization, but this concept has a predominantly political context. Regarding processes in the sphere of culture and identity, they use the hybrid "cultural decolonization," but it would be more appropriate, in my opinion, to use the purely cultural studies term "reculturation."
This trend needs to be promoted latently, non-aggressively, but persistently and everywhere. People from Luhansk and Donetsk regions set an example of "positive normalization," that is, they show that cultural codes can be successfully acquired and this positively affects their own self-concept and forms powerful social capital. Ukrainian-language proficiency should be perceived as basic literacy. The main emphasis, in my opinion, should fall on working with youth—through artistic practices and educational events.
This is not only about classroom study of Ukrainian literature or Ukrainian history, but about obtaining sensory, immersive experience—visiting memorial sites in other regions that previous generations only read about in books. Ukraine should emerge as a sensory image in children's consciousness, not an abstract slogan. Perhaps establishing student exchanges or "visits" between schools of different regions. Of course, such cultural practices as festivals, travels, and singing competitions are significant. They emotionally synchronize participants. In general, Ukrainians will know the Ukrainian language (if we preserve the state), this is a constant. We are moving in this direction with slow but confident steps. Ukrainian is the language of education in all specialties (medical and technical specialties were long inertial in this regard, because scientific sources, dictionaries, protocols, and reference books were Russian-language and no one undertook the translation and publication of such specialized literature), a condition for admission to civil service, obtaining public capital, etc.
A sharper question, in my opinion, is what other languages Ukrainians will speak. And here it's worth being honest: preferably not Russian with its aggressive and traumatic context. Probably, we should strengthen the spread of English as strategic for our geopolitical partnership. And probably, movement in this direction is also inevitable.
Language is an extremely important, but not the only tool that forms a sense of belonging to a community. Cohesion gives a sense of strength and security. Now, in my opinion, the main challenge of the Ukrainian rear is emotional asynchrony. This concerns the formation and awareness of our emotional culture. We need a vocabulary of terms to name our experiences that were not inherent to pre-war life. If they are identified, they are easier to control, and therefore to survive. Therefore, we observe such great demand for informational materials (text and video interviews, podcasts, webinars, trainings) with psychologists. Because although individual experiences are named, such a vocabulary of emotions is always developed intersubjectively, that is, it must resonate with many. So, naming, creating vocabulary is the first moment of synchronization, by the way, it fails in that it does not describe the emotions of those who went abroad, relocated, escaped from occupation. These categories remain silent or not very loud. And this is also a question of why: are people still in trauma? are they afraid they won't be understood, won't want to be heard? did they try to speak but encountered misunderstanding or condemnation? There is still much work to be done in this direction.
The second moment of emotional synchronization is to create rituals that citizens of Ukraine will perform together, at the same time. Tools for such synchronization include annual celebration of holidays, anniversaries, memorial days (we need a calendar of mandatory holidays of the country that form national identity), weekly rituals, for example, Monday raising of the national flag in educational institutions, performance of the anthem, as was practiced in 2014-2015, thanks to which a generation grew up that knows the Ukrainian anthem not through forced efforts to get grades in lessons. Also needed are daily short but unwavering rituals, like a minute of silence and performance of the anthem.
In my opinion, we have not developed a clear association and expectation regarding the celebration of Ukraine's Independence Day. This should be the country's main holiday, but a structured ritual of its celebration has not yet been formed. Before the war, it was characterized by carnivalesque nature, festivity, and show elements. Each year this had to be something new, pompous, spectacular, different from last year's celebration. Apparently, we were only developing the value basis of the event. This day should have become the starting point of national emotional synchronization and cement for the feeling of national belonging. But precisely the element of synchronicity was absent. This was a "Kyiv holiday," "their independence." At least, August 24th was felt that way in our Cherkasy region, where I'm from, because it was celebrated very modestly in the 2000s—a concert for state sphere workers in the House of Culture a few days before actual August 24th. Because on this day the head of the district administration went to the regional center or, for special merits, to Kyiv. Nothing happened in our city on this day: you could watch TV or go dig potatoes. There was an impression of "unreality" or "otherness" of this holiday. But there should be ubiquitous "ours-ness." Easter or even Ivan Kupala were truly nationwide. From now on, this should be Independence Day—totally, in every settlement where there are Ukrainians, at home and abroad, with heads of administrations, village heads and mayors, local stars and heroes. This is not a holiday of the president or residents of the capital; it was paid for with people's blood. Therefore, the calendar of national holidays needs not only the inclusion of new dates, but also rethinking of old ones. Holidays are important: they give a sense of solidarity, belonging, cohesion.
How does the destruction by Russian invaders of Ukrainian intangible cultural heritage (bearers of traditions, rituals, local customs) in occupied territories affect the collective cultural memory of Ukrainians? What are the mechanisms for restoring cultural memory after such traumas?
— According to American researcher Jeffrey Alexander, who studied the Holocaust trauma that killed his ancestors, cultural trauma is not similar to individual trauma. The latter is objective: there is a wounded body or heavy loss, for which normal, measured, civilized life never prepares. Collective trauma, however, is constructed through communication; it is formed as a result of telling stories, testimonies, and ethical evaluation of what the community experienced.
If an ethnos or people loses solidarity or statehood, its cultural trauma will not be heard by another people. Injured people will not have a chance to work through everything and heal.
The creativity of deceased cultural figures should enter the narrative of Ukrainian wartime cultural trauma. And culture, from this perspective, is quite "bloodthirsty": its most powerful semantic points are collective traumas. They reformat the national value-semantic universe. Modern German, Japanese, Israeli, French, British identities are centered on the losses of World War I or II (regardless of which side anyone was on) and the changes in their national cultures that they launched. The complex of victim, retribution, atonement is powerful food for strengthening collective identity. That's why it's so hard for them to accept the Russian-Ukrainian war as global, because it will affect their own identity.
But we do our own work—remembering, commemorating, making films, conducting competitions, festivals. Culture both formulates the nature of trauma, and heals, and remembers. As long as we are a community—we are both storytellers and listeners, and our existence cannot be denied or ignored.
How can elements of intangible heritage acquire new meanings and significance in the context of resistance to Russian aggression and preservation of national identity?
— The "durability coefficient" of intangible heritage is greater than material heritage under conditions of existential threat, because having survived as technology or "recipe," intangible heritage can easily take material form. Anywhere, anytime, before any audience, by any performer (even non-Ukrainian). Here we can recall the typology of forms of collective memory by historian Jan Assmann. He distinguished two types—communicative and cultural memory. Communicative is alive, close to events and authentic testimonies, although not yet sufficiently rationalized. And cultural emerges later, when the emotional component evaporates from memories, while substantiation, plausibility, logic remain. According to Assmann, the transition of communicative memory to cultural memory is an irreversible process. But Jean-Paul Sartre in the essay "What is Literature?" and Roland Barthes in the book "Writing Degree Zero" see the value of literature and artistic creativity in general precisely in that they are not just "play of fantasy" or means of expressing individual experiences, that is, art therapy. Professional art, on the contrary, firmly connects us with reality, modernizing the past. How? Ancient history reaches us as narrative, as an extract of cultural memory. This is a complex, monochrome subproduct for consciousness. An extract. Art makes it tasty, suitable for digestion, relevant. Thanks to narrative and visual techniques, files of cultural memory are briefly converted into communicative format (sometimes losing absolute scientific accuracy, but this is a feature of communicative memory). They become emotional. Art makes historical narratives emotional.
Artifacts of intangible cultural heritage are as if "artificially extracted." These are usually still living practices or technologies that find themselves in a threatened situation. Therefore, they are "dried" to the skeleton—rationalized, codified, archived. But this extract can at any time acquire its original juicy appearance, because its performance recipe is recorded. Therefore, in wartime conditions, the direction of preserving intangible cultural heritage is one of the most important. This is one of the most mobile and resilient forms of cultural memory.
This publication was prepared within the framework of the project "Strengthening the Resilience of Ukrainian Media," which is implemented by the Irondelle Foundation (Switzerland) and IRMI, the Institute of Regional Press and Information (Ukraine). Funded by the Swiss Solidarity Foundation. The views expressed are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the position of the IRONDELLE FOUNDATION or IRMI.
