Prospects for "peace"
This murky promise is being thrown around a lot by both sides, but what does it really mean? An update from Austria.
This is what peacetime looks like. A summer evening. No air raid sirens. People out enjoying the warm weather and the start of a soccer tournament involving dozens of nations, none of whom are, for now, at war with each other. The electricity is on. You do not have to worry about when to charge your phone or getting stuck in your elevator. You do not have to ask yourself if you should go to bed at night in the corridor (two walls) rather than your bedroom. You do not have to take note of where the nearest subway station is other than for using it for the purposes it was originally intended. In short — a perfectly normal Friday evening in June in Vienna, something Ukraine hasn’t had in two years and counting. Plenty of Friday evenings. None of them normal.
As I snapped this photo, I was contacted by a Ukrainian woman living in a former “hotel” in Upper Austria, in a small town, together with 100 of her compatriots. This is Austria’s version of organized housing for refugees, outsourced to a private landlord. She wrote me, apologising for contacting me on a Friday evening, that all 100 of them had not received any payments since April. May was still overdue, and it was now mid-June. I ask how much each person was due to receive: €217. You are forbidden from full-time work and expected to survive for an entire month on what some Viennese drop on one nice meal out with wine. Or the price of two tickets to the opera. And even then, you aren’t paid on time. So I do all I can do: I share the information, not mentioning the woman’s name (she is terrified and asks to remain anonymous), and am told it will be looked into on Monday. And if a few years ago these stories incensed and shocked me, now they only incense me. The shock is long gone. This too is Austria. I keep saying to Ukrainians over and over: do not come here unless you can provide for yourselves financially from the start. Anything else is a leap and a prayer.
Earlier that Friday, I heard from another volunteer about a 68 year old former teacher from Ukraine who had been kicked out of organised housing (I do not know why, some grounds for expulsion include alcohol abuse and violence), and was reportedly now living in the bushes along the train tracks in Linz. A very sad story to which I replied, probably the only thing one could do to help would be to buy him a train ticket back to Ukraine.
This week I met a woman who survived Russian occupation of her hometown, Izyum, in Kharkiv region (for an overview of what happened in Izyum during 2022, read here). She survived, together with her neighbours, living in an unfinished basement, room temperature +1C (it was March), eating what food they had left in apartments/storage, cut off from communications with the outside world. She talked about it all like she had already normalised it in her head, which I suppose is a very human reaction. Matter of fact, she described to me the different kinds of soldiers they saw: ordinary Russian troops, Kadyrovtsi, LNR, DNR, the dreaded “Buryats” as Ukrainians in occupied territories referred to young soldiers of native Siberian ethnicity. She recalled one who, while robbing an apartment, was fascinated by the sliding door of a bedroom cupboard. He had never seen that before. She recalled Russians shooting their own, too, for acting out of line. She was flabbergasted by the local grannies who after months of being in the crosslines of extremely heavy fighting, their hometown in ruins, spoke of how nice it was that some Russian soldiers gave them some oatmeal. But in the next breath, my conversation partner recalls a kind solider, who generously helped bring food to locals, and remember thinking at the time that he too is some mother’s son.
When Iyzum was liberated, she went to Kharkiv. There, she was greeted herself like a hero. She recalls a doctor hugging her when he heard where she had come from. She came to Austria for medical care, one year ago. She is in remission from skin cancer, and was told by doctors in Ukraine that the therapy she would benefit from would be better accessed in Europe. Apparently there is some kind of NGO program, but I have never heard of it. She came here, and fought through the bureaucracy to see oncologists, who then told her she didn’t need immunotherapy, but here she is. Mid 50s, treating various medical ailments, thinking about the future. Much of what she left behind in Izyum lies in the cemetery. Many loved ones died young. A husband. A sister. So she has slowly accepted that her life is here now, and is trying to make the most of it, trying to learn German, thinking about what work she could possibly do.
Work is a difficult topic for women of this age, with limited language skills, and limitations to physical labor. Frankly, I think it is unrealistic to assume most of them will find work. They most likely will not and will instead try to be super frugal to survive on what they receive here in Austria. In her case, it was at first a shared room in a shelter on the edge of the city which houses homeless in winter, and then she was fortunate to be transferred to a shared apartment with other Ukrainian women within a nursing home in Vienna. She knows she is very, very lucky, and is grateful. She tells me about relatives, nephews and nieces, some already in Canada. Some still in Kharkiv. You ask the dreaded question, how much longer? No one knows. Everyone assumes a long time yet.
This week there has been a lot of big news throwing the word “peace” around like it is going out of style. Ukraine gathered a summit of global leaders, from which China and Russia were both absent.
Putin outlined his own “terms” this week, asking for all four regions of Ukraine which Russia now partially occupies. The only new bit was a promise of a ceasefire if his list of demands, none of which would be acceptable to Ukraine, were to be met.
So in short, no peace, certainly not anytime soon. I understand why Ukraine is hosting such events, as Ukraine depends on the world not forgetting about it for its survival. The world, however, is increasingly likely to be preoccupied with its own problems — elections, the economy, wars in other places. The world has also cynically concluded that just because Ukraine is coming under attack each evening, this does not mean that life everywhere else grinds to a halt. Quite the opposite. The fear and shock are gone. As they say, one can get used to almost anything in life.
There was also a lot of noise this week when Russia halted trading of USD and EUR on the Moscow exchange, but a lot of the noise was coming from sources I would describe more as pro-Ukrainian propaganda. Here is an excellent summary of what happened in Moscow this week and what the new sanctions and rules mean for Russia’s economy by a source you should trust, The Bell in English.
A friend recently came back from Moscow (selling real estate, a very emotional decision and acceptance that immigration is forever) and described a city living in its own bubble, inwardly focused, the money that seems to fall from the sky in Russia’s war economy being spent domestically on luxury apartments, dining out, nightclubs, beauty treatments, the usual if you can dream it we can deliver. The exodus of Moscow-born intellectuals has been replaced by many new arrivals from the Caucuses and other parts of Russia, somewhat changing the social landscape. Those of us who have seen so many friends leave, the city already feels different. It is the oddest of feelings to land in the place you once called home and not be able to call half your friends because half of them are gone, spread over the world like seeds into the field. Travel from Moscow to London, a simple flight of three and a half hours which used to be offered a half dozen times each day, now requires a connection via Baku or Dubai, costs a minor fortune, and may require two days of travelling. Those of us with foreign passports or half of Ukraine in our phones, we don’t dare. We will wait patiently until the old man is gone, because he too is human, and all of our clocks eventually run out. One can hope — and this may be naive, that perhaps, when the illusion of an omnipresent ruler is gone, thinks might get better. Maybe.
We believe the EU is on the verge of extending temporary protection for another year for Ukrainians who have sought refuge here, but that doesn’t give them a long-term opportunity to stay. It is kicking the can on a high level. But it is all we will get right now. This week I received a teary phone call from a Ukrainian woman in Vienna with her kid who had been renting a room very cheaply from an Austrian, and was now getting the boot, could not find anything for the same non-market price. She tells me she must move out tomorrow. I had to be the truth-teller and explain that it is correct, no one is coming to save you, if you cannot find a place with rent you can afford the only advice is to go back to Ukraine, no there are no more rooms available. The thing is, though, the government is not a hotel and it does not hang up a sign outside explaining “no vacancy”. People hear stories, they think they can be the exception. I really try to dissuade such thinking. We are still receiving messages from within Ukraine from folks who want to come, and we have to be the bearers of rather disappointing news.
Meanwhile the path to permanent residency remains open from this fall for a select few in full-time work with high enough salaries who have completed some German language coursework. These Ukrainians will be the creme de la creme and the exception rather than the rule. Lawmakers will argue they helped; what will happen to everyone else, who knows. I have no idea. I can realistically imagine a scenario in which they are all told to go home when the war eventually does end, and also a scenario under which everyone is given mercy. There does not seem to be anyone at the local nor EU level with any vision about this, long-term.
Meanwhile here in Austria, the hot topic is a recently published statistic that 35% of Viennese elementary (grades 1-4) school students are now Muslim. You can imagine what kind of discourse this set off. The thing is, Austria, like Germany, never learned how to truly talk about itself as a multicultural nation welcoming immigrants. Unlike Canada or Australia who were intentional in their immigration policies (by virtue of geography, of course), many European nations became multiethnic, multi-faith unintentionally. It happened gradually, over time, e.g. “guest workers” from Turkey and the former Yugoslavia, and then more suddenly — the wars in Bosnia and Chechnya, for example. But the biggest change happened over the past decade: Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran. And now those men who arrived and received asylum are trying to legally bring their wives and children over, and this is putting a huge strain on the school system, amongst other things.
But we cannot talk about this in a way that does not come across as racist or anti-Muslim, because Austria never had the discussions about what it means to be a mutilcultural society (and here I am not talking about the cultures of the former empire). It never took religion out of its schools, and now in some schools there are more kids signed up for Islam than Catholic lessons, and this too is a contentious issue. If you ask me as an American it is a no brainer to keep all religion out of schools, but as German-speaking Europe never had these conversations decades ago when it should have, it is now paying the price.
You hear the strangest things sometimes in Vienna. This melting pot for centuries already. This must be the 2024 version. This week I was getting my eyebrows done (translation for men: plucked and coloured) by a very talented Ukrainian woman, who was telling me about her flatmate, a woman originally from Chechnya. She is divorced, twice. Both ex-husbands went back to Chechnya with her sons (apparently the boys always stay with the father). She is here alone with a daughter. In order to date, she has to ask permission of the last ex-husband, and dating means becoming another man’s second/third/fourth wife. Sex = marriage. So now she has a “husband” who comes for visits from Germany, but not on paper of course, and she helps him pick out perfume for his first wife. This woman I am told has lived in Austria for ten years and has never worked. She collects unemployment. Her child goes to kindergarten and speaks primarily German. Kids like these are living in two worlds: one in Austrian institutions, and in homes which reflect cultures from miles (and some would argue centuries) away. And yes this happens in many countries and there are loads of positive success stories, but for that the host nation must have an idea of who it is, what it stands for, and what is expects of all residents. To say were are a European primarily Catholic country and to ignore the statistics and the challenges they present is a fool’s game.
I don’t know if people outside of Europe understand how much Europe is going through its own identity crisis at the moment. There are those on the left who would welcome everyone with unlimited resources. There are those on the right who would deport everyone and turn the clock back to 1950. Geography does not allow Europe to build a wall, Trump-style. And then there are bureaucrats working ever so sneakily to tweak things now, quietly.
Austria recently “cancelled” available visa appointments for family reunification in a number of countries. This makes fewer headlines than deportations, naturally, but puts the breaks on new arrivals, albeit an incredibly grey zone from a legal perspective. Those applying have on paper the right to apply and receive visas. But you cannot apply if there are no appointments. It’s buying time until September so the conservatives can try and look as appealing as the far right to voters.
In summary, it is so hard to even write about these topics, because they are controversial to so many. We are expected to talk around rather than about problems due to norms of political correctness and an understanding, correctly, that we are all human and should all have equal opportunities. However there are limitations to the volume of immigrants European nations can absorb without changing in ways they may not be prepared for. When challenges, particularly the to European social, political and economic norms are ignored rather than addressed, I think this only plays into the hands of the far right, who count on emotional voters while failing to offer any vision of a future other than one of turning back clocks (impossible). It worries me that so few (save for the Neos this week with a good suggestion of “democracy” education in schools, although the real problem is so many immigrant children never receive Austrian citizenship and therefore cannot vote as adults) are willing to have constructive conversations about real issues. To call everyone who raises this topic racist is equally counterproductive. The issue is not religion. The issue is the conflict between what is taught in schools and what is potentially taught at home (culturally, morally, ethically), and how we as a society expect residents to live their lives. Our norms, essentially, are up for debate now more than ever.
This is a hot potato if there ever was one, but I bring it up because it shows how difficult the topic is if even one static can set off a firestorm. Few people will ever tell you what they really think to your face. But we have to learn as societies to talk about things without placing ourselves in camps. We must learn to hear points of views which differ from our own. We must learn how to have constructive debate. That seems to me like a core European value?
I’ve continued to send out a few Hofer cards this week, thank you. If you would like to continue to support the small but meaningful work Mario and I are doing, distributing grocery gift cards to Ukrainian families in need in Austria, please consider making a donation via our website. Thank you in advance!
Whatever I just wrote in response seems to have evaporated.
In any event, thanks for the update.