I will always associate the 8th of March with how I remember it used to be, decades ago, in Moscow. Flowers, chocolates, and for just one day on the calendar, every man a woman encounters is exceptionally polite and chivalrous. And then the next day, it all goes back to “normal”. Here in Europe, international women’s day has taken on the colors of a feminist fight, which feels ever so bizarre. I rather prefer the second Valentine’s Day variation. I awoke this morning to dozens of photos of giant bouquets sent over Telegram spreading well wishes to all women in several languages. That was nice. We women congratulate each other, as well. Many wrote about spring finally being here (although you could not tell from the grey, cold sky covering Vienna today). In short, it is a day of hope, of sorts. And then a local grocery chain flashed me an advert for 18.8% off an online shop today, explaining that is how much less women earn than men, statistically. How bizarre. Would have much preferred they publish a statistic showing that they are not offenders in this way. That they pay women on par with men for the same work. That might have motivated me to shop there.
This week I spoke with many Ukrainian women and heard many stories. No two are the same, but they do have common threads. They are all working hard here in Austria to “tick the boxes”. This means making sure their children are enrolled in the right educational opportunities available to them, many of the women are working and/or attending German language courses to improve their chances of one day getting a better job than cleaning or kitchen work. Many women here spent an awful lot of their time chasing the bureaucracy, from filling out forms which must be filed each year as single mothers (there is a tax rebate even for those who did not work, but you have to be able to conquer the paperwork to even have a chance of being eligible). Then there are the normal day-to-day challenges: how to find affordable housing, how to negotiate and explain to a potential landlord that you really cannot afford a deposit equal to three months rent but you will be a good tenant, you promise. How to stretch every last Euro to make life with kids work at these prices.
I didn’t manage to send out many cards this week. But some is better than none. I do still have a waiting list, and it is mostly comprised of families who live in social housing in small towns and villages. Some of them receive as little as €40 per person, per month. They are in the back of my mind, and I keep telling myself to be patient. One has to be patient. I tried an experiment earlier this week which was a flop, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying. I emailed several newly opened Ukrainian-owned businesses, and asked if they would be interested in a joint fundraising for Cards for Ukraine (here or here). With one exception — radio silence. They didn’t even write back to say they weren’t interested.
So it is true what ordinary Ukrainians tell me that their “rich” only care about themselves. But maybe this is also true the world over. We have received very generous donations from ordinary Austrians, and I have also personally told very wealthy families here about our program, only to be totally ignored. Those who could most easily donate €50 without feeling it at all are often the least likely to do so. I don’t have a solution for that, but I can confirm the trend extends across national borders.
In this context, I am just going to leave here this fascinating article from local Austrian reporting last Decmeber which I came across while doing my “research”. It reads to me like the gamble is if you invest millions of Euros in Austria, Austria will not hand you over to Ukraine, and as a friend said to me who works in corporate financial advisory, that calculation is unfortunately, probably not wrong.
A few recommendations for you, as always, in no particular order.
First, I managed to watch the first episode of the new HBO show, The Regime, staring Kate Winslet, which was filmed in Vienna’s Schönbrunn Palace. Very intriguing and feels very timely. I cannot tell where it is going, but I am certainly now along for the ride. The writing is sharp and darkly funny. The premise of a fascist regime in some random central European land run by a smart blonde is not so far off from reality.
I am also halfway through the most excellent book:
I would also add that if you, like me, think you already know most of what happened during the first year after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, you will be surprised what you did not know. I have uncovered many new details for myself which I missed in the daily reporting. I am also truly impressed that a full-time reporter found the time to write an entire book, one that I am sure one day will be used by historians teaching this period.
Turning to the present, two essays for you today, both written by women. One, on the state of the battlefield, and the other, on what it feels like to be Ukrainian these days.
Time is Running Out in Ukraine by Dara Massicot explains in detail why Russia’s army, according to a Ukrainian joke, “is neither good, nor bad, just long”. The only correction I would make to the piece is I believe the new mobilisation legistlation passed in Ukraine reduced the draft age to 25 to 27. Not that it makes a difference. The bottom line is nearly every parent of every boy aged 17 at the moment is trying to figure out how to get him, and keep him, out of Ukraine. Which is understandable. It is a chicken and egg question — Ukraine lacks ammunition and to think you can make that up with manpower when the men know what the circumstances are on the battlefields right now, well, you have to address that too if you are going to recruit and train real fighters, and not just men sent forward with a hope and a prayer.
Why the West Underestimated Ukraine by Olesya Khromeychuk so eloquently describes how both female scholars and women from “other” regions than standard Anglo-saxon academic stomping grounds are still treated, even in 2024. Her essay essentially asks the world to take women, and Ukraine, seriously. Fair enough.
I keep thinking about my home country. I keep listening to podcasts about the 2024 election. I heard snippets of the State of the Union. I have listened to seasoned journalists “explain” Biden’s calculation. And all I can think of is, come on, how come no one stepped in to stop this train wreck before the outcome became inevitable. I believe we are looking at a more certain Trump victory than ever. The way that some seasoned liberal intellectuals poke fun at young conservative politicians is particularly dangerous. Those voices, they are appealing to someone, and Americans will vote for them. The Democrats shot themselves in the foot by not standing up to Biden and telling him he is too old to run and win. I feel like we are watching a car-crash in slow motion, and you feel rather powerless to do anything about it. Even voting this time. I will be honest, I always made an effort to vote every four years. But this time, this time you just feel inclined to sit it out. The concepts of defending democracy and freedom are not powerful electoral messages when young people are shocked by their grocery bills and don’t know how they will ever be able to sustain a middle-class lifestyle similar to those enjoyed by previous generations. If you want to know how powerful a role economic well-being plays in young people’s political views, just look to what Putin did to Russia over the past nearly 25 years. Prosperity that is palpable matters.
I read a quote last night (and now I must remember where…found it, new Polish prime minister Donald Tusk), about Europe being in a “pre-war” period, and this scared the crap out of me. I think many of us have this sinking feeling that the glory days of lasting peace and stable prosperity are about to be severely challenged here in Europe, too. And yet I have no idea what to do about it, other than to recommend to vote. Because every vote against the far right is just that. And at least in a parliamentary systems, your vote makes a difference.
I keep thinking about Ukraine, how many people told me they didn’t see the war coming. The shock when it happened. Then you read a piece like this, by Shaun Walker of the Guardian about what Russia is doing in occupied territories, and you shudder to think where else that could theoretically happen.
I think America’s monied classes know a train-wreck is coming, but they have decided it does not matter as long as the stock market keeps humming. Ordinary Americans are frustrated for a myriad of reasons and will use the ballot box to express that, but with unfortunately two not great choices.
I think Europe’s politicians know the threat from Russia is real (some better than others), but the population is still pretty blind to the actual war being fought not so far from our borders.
As for Ukrainians — they will not be able to vote at all anytime soon, something which is upsetting a fair number of them. I read this news last night, and this was my immediate reaction:
For the moment, most of them are, just like the rest of us, focused on the mundane. A women now asked me who to call on a Friday afternoon because burglars broke into her apartment by breaking the door, and the landlord/management company stops working at noon on Fridays. I quickly learned the Google search term for post-burglary-door-repair in German. And on it goes.