Further reflections on (a/the/-) revolution

REUTERS/Olga Yakimovich (Courtesy Business Insider)

Which variant suits the title best? Will this be just one of many revolutions? Is this it, the revolution, the one that finally institutes change for the better? Or is this meant to be an academic treatise in the guise of On Liberty (John Stuart Mill) or On the Pleasures of Hating (William Hazlitt).

I’ll set semantics (and my cat, who every time I sit down to write does her damndest to prevent me from doing so, walking all over and then sitting on the keyboard, pawing me, etc – perhaps she’s trying to tell me something? Don’t bother writing a thing you idiot!) aside and share some more personal reflections.

(Disclaimer: if it’s unclear I am no way trying to offer up merely an irreverent view of events.)

January 1991: Operation Desert Storm and the first Gulf War kicked off, and for the first time, perhaps, at least as far as I can remember, we had war being played out in real time, on television, to a worldwide audience of millions. I lived in Germany at the time…(the cat is now attacking my feet…) and though it only affected us marginally (long waits on the bus to get through the perimeter set up some ways away from the military base every day, mild ‘threats’ of terrorism, a bit of scare-mongering), we watched it on TV in history class every day: here was history being played out in front of us, all witnessed as it was happening. It was almost like a video game at times – a sentiment echoed by many, to be fair – and it was hard to tell what we were watching. And it all primarily came from just one source: CNN. My personal involvement? Other than being on the periphery of the Cold War’s fault lines (we arrived in Germany just before the Wall came down), my father went to Turkey just after the war started and stayed until March.

Relive the experience in HD

September 11, 2001: My [Anglo/American] generation’s 3^rd big ‘where were you when it happened?’ moment, after the Challenger explosion in January 1986 (which we all witnessed happen live on) and Princess Diana’s death in August 1997. 

This was pretty chaotic. I was working in Boston in the John Hancock Tower and my girlfriend in the Prudential: the two tallest buildings in New England. Rumours were swirling around the office that we were next and people started to panic. This was pre-Twitter, pre-FB, pre-just about everything. I didn’t have a mobile phone either, only some of us did. Nobody knew what was happening, nobody could get in touch with friends and loved ones – hell, I didn’t find out until 2 months later that someone I knew had been killed. It really took time for information to filter its way out.

A lot of people say that 9/11 was the start of something, well, new. For me, it was the start of the running news ticker at the bottom of…CNN. And the BBC. And every other news network – I honestly can’t recall if we had that rolling, endless stream of news ticker before this. We now had the start of the information onslaught – get bored with one story, move onto another, let your attention wander if need be, short attention spans are the new norm.

  

[An aside, as mentioned in my last post: Northern Ireland in the 80s and 90s, which was mainly through the lens of the BBC for me.]

November 2013 – February 2014: I hardly need document what’s going on in Kyiv. There’s a total onslaught of information, misinformation, lazy generalisations, overly-simplistic analyses and so much more. We’re inundated with coverage from every conceivable angle. Friends have been writing to ask whether I’m okay and staying out of trouble (yes and yes). Some have asked what this is all about. My sister asked what this was all about. As Anne Applebaum wrote in the Washington Post the other day, ‘for those who are new to the subject – indeed, for those who have been following it for many years – the Ukrainian crisis can seem murky.’ I’ll say. I’ve been reading and following events ad nauseam – there certainly is no shortage of stuff being written. Ukrainian friends have been asking me what I think. How do I answer that? I’ve run out of adjectives and ways to describe it – anyone I’ve emailed in the past few days has received something along the lines of ‘it’s all gone a bit mad/this is chaotic/it’s crazy/unbelievable/what will happen next?’ Lazy, crass analysis, but what else can one say? I often think it’s all very surreal, but then that comes across as patronizing to my own ears, like something that would be said by someone who can’t relate. As a foreigner, it does feel distant emotionally (although geographically I’m just down the road), and any brief moments where I’ve thought about going to Maidan were quickly quashed when I realized that not only would it possibly not be safe, but also I’d have this feeling of meddling in someone else’s affairs. I don’t want to be the person down in the thick of things snapping pictures to post and share, and to say that ‘I was there.’ That would be irreverent. As it is, I’ve pored over pictures, witnessed it all firsthand from a short distance, while not being very far away from it all. It’s all part of the age we live in, after all.  

(I should and will go down soon, very soon, so I might want to consider changing some of the paragraph into the past tense – we’ll see.)

I’m no longer – if I ever was – in the business of International Relations-themed analysis. But I have tried my best to view things from some sort of academic prism, harking back to my studies of nationalism, liberal democracy, the social contract, the decline of totalitarianism, power vacuums, etc. But I save this stuff for in-person conversation.

Watching the ‘24’ news channel the other day, which was of course dedicated to following events from Maidan non-stop, I noticed the caption of the originally scheduled program: ‘A history (or story?) of revolutions’. I found it…ironic (?), that it had been in effect replaced by live events. Why bother with a history of revolutions when a revolution is occurring before our eyes, right? What has history become? By its very definition, history has many meanings, but many definitions cite it specifically as ‘all that is preserved or remembered of the past, especially in written form’. That’s what I remember from my IR days – that history was the written record of the past, and anything before that is pre-history. So what does that say about modern times – that it’s all post-history?

None of this is to be confused with ‘The End of History and the Last Man’, Francis Fukuyama’s 1992 book proclaiming the rise of liberal democracy and its role in the potential end of historical progress (crude summary: ‘hello liberal democracy, bye bye alternative government, but history doesn’t stop, oh and be careful of technology’s role, it may screw things up!’):

"What we may be witnessing is not just the end of the Cold War, or the passing of a particular period of post-war history, but the end of history as such: that is, the end point of mankind's ideological evolution and the universalization of Western liberal democracy as the final form of human government."

But this hardly has anything to do with events on the ground. Or does it?

My last post dealt with too much tunnel vision. Last week saw panic: shops, cafés, restaurants, the school closed, my gym (talk about a bourgeois lifestyle in the midst of revolution!) closing early, massive queues at ATMs and in shops and petrol stations. What’s worse: extreme panic or chronic tunnel vision? But aren’t both natural human reactions? In short bursts, tunnel vision is natural and acceptable. But what does all this say about the bigger picture? (or, what does it portend for the future?)

(My contribution or part in the panic: I went and bought lots of extra cat food. I figured there could be a run on Whiskas, and it not being a high-priority item for most shops to re-stock, I didn’t want my poor cat to starve. I’m sure she’s grateful.)

Of all the things that have happened over the past few days – the endless Facebook and Twitter updates, etc – one is particularly striking, and that’s the story of the young nurse, shot in the neck by a sniper, who then posted on VKontakte: ‘Я вмираю’ (‘I’m dying’).

A New Republic article captures this moment well, with an aptly-written caption:

A Twitter Death in Kiev: The tale of a post-modern martyr

Well worth a read, here’s one excerpt:

‘The tweet shot through the Russian and Ukrainian blogospheres. It was a stunning moment, so hyper-meta-modern in its tragedy: It was all there in two pictures and a tweet for the world to reconstruct. Here was a sweet-faced young girl, a volunteer medic, red flowers as her Twitter backdrop, shot down by the evil Yanukovich's goons. Shot in the neck by a sniper, though she was clearly marked as a medic, strong enough to walk at first, then her fingers slipping around her phone's keyboard as the loss of blood made her woozier, dreamier...’

I can’t at all identify or empathise with her, but something tells me that were I – heaven forbid! – shot, I can’t imagine whipping out my phone and posting a quick status update along the same lines, and that’s not because I don’t have a Facebook or VKontakte app on my phone.

(Thankfully, she seems to be on the mend.)

Besides that, if you are interested in what’s taking place, there is no shortage of information out there. Much of it is lousy (but better than anything I can say), but some of it is good. Things change so quickly that an article can be out-of-date within hours, let alone days.

A few of the better articles I’ve come across, which may stand the test of time for at least a few months anyway, are:

Fascism, Russia and Ukraine, Timothy Snyder, NYRB

Ukrainian Smears and Stereotypes, Anne Applebaum, Washington Post

Romantics and Realists, James Meek, LRB

At the very least, read those.

But perhaps a far more illuminating account comes courtesy of my Greek friend Magnus, who has plenty of experience of civil unrest, having not only witnessed, but more than likely actively participated in Athens’ riots over the past couple of years. This is his take, and I’m sure he won’t mind (or even notice) if I share this: (I’ve refrained from editing it in any way, and am leaving it in its raw, pure form)

‘yu know what i like about the uprising....  (just saw the VICE video on it)

it's the fact that hte protesters have formed a production line to make armor, weapons... it's completely soviet-ized .. organization, training..... 

fucking greeks would just buy helmets or use their motorcycle helmets and then go to a coffee shop..no production line, no assembly line, no training ...  
the only good thing tha thte greek anarchists have done is tha thtey made this new cocktail bomb...where they wrap a bunch of firecrackers at teh neck of the bottle and ligh thtem up, so it explodes in mid - air.... they call them 'the chinese' but the police calls them 'cobras' ....’

Actually, I’m not sure how perceptive that is, but there you go: informed political analysis from one of the wisest, most astute human beings I know.

The Megan Pedzo Guide to Stability and International Relations

Speaking of panic, my mother has been freaking out. I probably get my nervous tendencies from her.

In November 2010, I posted a short item about a trip to a Christmas ornament factor 40km from Kyiv, as well as a brief paragraph and some pictures, of a protest over tax reform legislation (click here for link and scroll down). I’ve always admired Ukrainians for their tenacity and ‘rebel spirit’ (according to the Kyiv Post in a 2010 article entitled ‘What We Love and Hate about Kyiv’), and their desire to express outrage over any and everything. Obviously tax reform legislation isn’t going to get thousands upon thousands onto the streets, but people do care about things like this. When Yulia Tymoshenko was imprisoned in 2011, people set up permanent protest camps and tents along Khreschatyk dedicated to freeing Yulia. During Euro 2012, when my parents came to visit, I took them on a walking tour of the centre, where we passed the Yulia protest tents. My mother asked me about her, and I probably gave her the full rundown in barely 10-15 seconds. She then approached someone manning one of the tents, who proceeded to give my mother the more official 10 second lowdown on why Yulia had been imprisoned. A woman then walked by and gave her alternative version, claiming something along the lines of ‘Yulia is a criminal and deserves to be in prison!’ upon which my mother took great offence and shouted her down, saying that ‘Yanukovych is the criminal and Yulia’s a good woman!’ A small, brief argument ensued with my mother in between the Yulia supporter and this woman. My father and I weren’t sure whether to intervene or let them go at it.

Anyway, from that moment on, my mother has been telling anyone who will listen that ‘poor Yulia’ should be set free.

So, with the news that Yulia was being released, my mother has finally calmed down quite a bit and feels much better about the situation here. She’s gone from full-fledged panic mode to a sense of quiet relief. As if Yulia herself is my personal protector and has come racing back to Kyiv just to assure my safety. Thanks Yulia, if this is what it takes to make my mother happy!  

As for what will happen next? I’m not in the prediction-making business, but yet again, here’s just one article discussing, in simple terms, what may happen next:

Ukraine’s Revolution Has Reached Its Climax. These Factors Will Determine What HappensNext

Two books I’m reading at the moment – life imitating art (or vice versa?) or merely a coincidence, or something other?

Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed, Jared Diamond. Started this a few weeks ago. Interesting read, a bit slow and heavy in parts. Brief premise: past societies either failed or succeeded depending on the choices they made (Polynesia, Easter Island, the Mayans, Greenland Norse, amongst others). Climate change, soil erosion, overdependence on certain crops, inability to establish and maintain trade contacts, warfare, lack of 3G coverage. Relevance to today’s events: we’re merely speculating on what transpired, based on limited evidence (almost none of it written) and educated guesswork. We don’t know for certain what happened, but we have a fairly good idea. Today? It’s almost the same: we don’t know for certain what’s happening, and we may think we have a fairly good idea, but will we ever really know? Who can we trust, anyway? From total lack of information to total overload, with the result almost the same.

Super Sad True Love Story, Gary Shteyngart. New York, post-apocalyptic, dystopian era, post-‘Rupture’, chaos in the city, the Chinese have taken control, dollars are pegged to the yuan, transport is a mess, nobody can reach anyone, communications have changed, no one reads real books or has real conversations anymore, everyone functions through a virtual world of ‘apparati’. Relevance to today’s events: technology taking over, murky information, confusion, disrupted transport networks, panic, currency/economic situation in freefall, country in disarray, government in turmoil, people killed on the streets. It’s kind of eerie in a way, that I’m reading this now. I started it about two weeks and had absolutely no idea what it was about.

(I’d highly recommend his previous book, Absurdistan, over this one, though.)

The cat gave up attacking me long ago. If you didn’t like this self-indulgent little rant, you can blame her for not persisting in preventing this diatribe from seeing the light of day. Give up, little cat, persistence is futile.

But resistance may not be: there’s your final bit of relevance to today’s events.