The cold rain turned to snow for a brief moment a few days before Christmas in Vienna, and it felt like a little miracle in and of itself. It was white, for a few hours. By Christmas Eve, we were back to the unseasonable warm temps and green grass. The city has woken up again after three days of slumber. For three days, all supermarkets and stores were shut, and it was a bit like preparations for armageddon yesterday at a convenience store inside Vienna’s main train station. I will never understand why a city of two million people, many of whom don’t celebrate Christmas, must shut its commercial doors for so long. I will add that to a long list of things I do not understand about this alpine nation.
Everything reopened today, life has come back to the city’s streets, and as I type this in a downtown Starbucks, they are busy erecting all sorts of constructions for the public New Year’s celebrations in a few days time.
As I look back on 2023, I am proud of what we have continued to do, and so sad that we have had to continue. That there hasn’t been an end to the war. That many of the Ukrainians who first told me the move to Austria was only temporary, now see their futures here. It cannot be a good thing for Ukraine when millions of Ukrainians now see their futures somewhere else. But this too is a direct result of the EU’s temporary protection decision, which was the right thing to do from a humanitarian perspective. I am very curious how it will be managed going forward. We still have no answers on that. Ukrainians were given an initial three years, and they should receive their third “blue cards” over the coming months which will give them the right to live here until March 2025. After that? No one knows. Rumours swirl about some kind of extension, X number of additional years in a temporary status that does not earn one credit towards any kind of permanent residency or path to eventual citizenship. So Ukrainians are living in the moment, grateful for what they have now, focused on the day to day struggles of how to earn enough money, how to find a new apartment when the landlord tells them its over, how to get their kids through another academic year in school, worried about friends and family who stayed back home. The lucky ones who could afford it most likely also are using this holiday period to go back home to Ukraine. I think about the rift that surely must have emerged by now between those who stayed and those who left.
I think about what will happen if Russia pushes on, if more people are forced to leave their homes. A train station was hit last night in Kherson. Drones attacked Odesa. The war continues. It does not care that we are sick of it. In fact, that is exactly what official Russia is betting on.
I watched a documentary recently (it seems YouTube has removed the link, I share the link to the Novaya Gazeta article which hopefully can be read in translation), unfortunately only in Russian without subtitles, filmed entirely in Krasnoyarsk (huge, industrial city in Siberia) and its surrounding towns. About boys who grew up on orphanages, some of whom then did prison time (a quite usual path), and now are going to war in Ukraine purely out of financial reasons. The Russian journalist even interviews a young man who worked as a sniper for Wagner. He didn’t even count how many Ukrainians he killed. You see scenes of Russians sending their boys off to war, each having somehow made the incomprehensible calculation that their son will return, richer and a veteran. All the relatives standing on the station platform, waving. You cannot watch and not ask how many will actually return. And yet Russia keeps handing men over, like sheep, out of economic desperation. The young men dream of returning unharmed and finding a good job and buying a car. One cannot even find a good job without a “military ticket” to show one served.
The film leaves you with the impression Russia’s war has become an integral part of its economy today. The war is the economic ladder it offers to those who have no other. It is in this context that I read pieces like the New York Times article which recently claimed the Kremlin is ready to negotiate (“Putin quietly signals he is ready for a ceasefire”) with a huge grain of salt. I see no reason for the Kremlin to stop now. Why? Putin himself said in his recent press conference that “Odesa is a Russian city”. That seems pretty damn clear.
The mood amongst Ukrainians, at least the ones I speak with in confidence, is pretty grim. I received messages of dismay and shock when the text of the new draft legislation on mobilisation in Ukraine was published yesterday on the website of the country’s parliament. The law has not yet been voted on, and can and will likely be edited, but it is none the less going to make a lot of Ukrainians upset. The initial euphoria of defending one’s country has passed, those who were going to volunteer to fight did so in the early days, and many of them paid with their lives, bravely defending Ukraine. Now, Ukraine needs more soldiers. It needs younger men. And so tools are being suggested to enlist more, none of which are going to make Ukrainians very happy. Videos have been circulating for some time of the brazen methods used by some military recruiters in Ukraine to hand out draft notices. A video of men in uniform entering a gym in western Ukraine went viral. Young men know they can be handed papers anywhere — on the street, at the market, on their way to work.
Everyone knows those who could afford to leave left, and those who could afford to buy medical papers marking them unfit for service did so. This also ties into the perceptions about “rooting out corruption”. What kind of a look is it to draft ordinary men who could not afford to flee, while the sons of lawmakers enjoy a peaceful life waiting out the end of the war in the EU? So the new proposed approach specifically targets Ukrainian men of draft age living abroad, suggesting they not be able to renew their passports (internal or international) without providing a fresh paper saying they reported to the military office. This would be the equivalent of stripping one’s citizenship while one is abroad for many. A detailed rundown of all the proposed changes (remember, this has not yet been voted on, and may still change) here.
I would love to be able to share some optimism here as I sign off for 2023 and look towards 2024, and I can in the sense that I am very proud of the work we collectively have done and continue to do for Ukrainians who now call Austria home. But in terms of the bigger picture, the war itself, I see no reason for any optimism. None at all. I see a Russia that feels emboldened, and isn’t suffering. I see a west losing interest and patience. I see an America totally turned inwards and busy with other conflicts (Israel/Gaza), and a I see a Europe that still does not really totally understand that Russia will not stop with Ukraine. As if not using the Cyrillic alphabet is some kind of protection against a Russian takeover. Takeovers don’t have to happen with weapons alone, and I think about this a lot as Europe looks towards many important elections here too in 2024. I wonder if at the end of 2024 Austria will look back to the end of 2023 as the “good old days”. I look around and try to appreciate the little things.
Over the lead-up to Christmas and the break, I have so far delivered 87 Hofer cards which I received electronically. Another 15 to go. I have prioritised the elderly and moms with kids. I wrote one man back, explaining, sorry, I cannot help because these are our priorities, and he replied, “I am here with my daughter” and send me a photo of a little girl with Down syndrome in front of a modest little Christmas tree. I apologised and sent them a card. There is no right formula. It is, like so many things in life, trial and error.
On December 29 and 30, a group of volunteers (both Austrian and Ukrainian) and I will be hosting workshops at Train of Hope for younger Ukrainian kids (aged 6-10). Twenty kids each afternoon. A scavenger hunt, gingerbread cookie decorating, and ornament making. I will see if I can ask the moms permissio to make a few photos on the day to share. I look forward to what should be a fun event in this little quiet time between Christmas and New Year’s!
To end on a positive note, I share a lovely Christmas story from the Guardian about a Ukrainian man who regained his eyesight after decades without it thanks to doctors in Poland.
And a little video I made the other day, with just a selection of the lovely grocery photos we have received in thanks this December.
Thank you all for your continued support and interest in reading this. I do not know what shape it will take next year, or what the future will bring, but it has been immensely powerful for me personally to have this outlet to share with you what we have been working on, what Ukrainians themselves are telling me, and what I am thinking about. It’s like therapy, with words.
Oh! Almost forgot. In the latest issue of Profil magazine there are several articles about Ukrainians in Austria. Unfortunately none that I can find to share with you online. As an added bonus a particularly unflattering photo of the tireless Jenia and me. I should have known when I saw the journalist holding an ancient camera at waist-level :) I am grateful to local journalists for continuing to raise these topics. I only wonder if there is any appetite to consume such reports anymore…but trying is far better than doing nothing and then complaining about it.
One step at a time. One day at a time. I keep telling myself that. Every time I approach a mailbox and share a bit of your collective generosity, I know it makes a difference to those individual recipients. I am frustrated with our total lack of control over the bigger picture. You feel like you are swimming against the tide, all the time. But if you don’t swim, you sink.