Letter in "The Guardian"

Letter in "The Guardian" Following an article in "The Guardian" last week by Timothy Garton Ash about the cultural self-destructive aspects of Russian Imperialism, where Putin's attempts attempts to destroy Ukraine and other East European nation's self-identity transforms him into the main enemy of his own Russian culture, I wrote my own letter in support, drawing on my recent report on Belarus.

I am so pleased that "The Guardian" chose to publish it today. I enclose it below:

Dear Editor,

 

I heartily concur with Timothy Garton Ash's comments ("The greatest threat to the Russian world is Putin himself" 17.12.2022) concerning the insidious imposition of the Russian language on areas that Putin anachronistically considers to be part of the Russian Empire.

The Federation of Poles in Gt Britain have recently been drawing attention to the growing Russification inf Belarus, where Putin's brutal undemocratic sidekick, Lukashenka, has been championing the spread of Russian in Belarusian schools, threatening to limit the Belarusian language only to the teaching of history and closing down the Polish, Lithuanian and Ukrainian language schools which, in accordance with Article 50 of the Belarusian constitution, had flourished in the areas where these indigenous minorities lived. Now even Russian speaking members of the democratic opposition in Belarus are teaching themselves to speak Belarusian as they identify this neglected language as the voice of democracy. Another side effect of Putin's Russian chauvinism.   

Yours faithfully,

Wiktor Moszczynski

 

 

Nice to know I can still get the odd text published in the U.K. press.

 

Have been spending a bit of my free time in the last week reading a pre-war Polish novel called "Lover of the Great Bear", about Polish smugglers on the Polish-Soviet border. It was based on the author's experience when he supplemented his activities as a Polish spy by a massive smuggling racket in order to supplement his finances. For much of the time it was like reading a Western as the smuggling gangs plied their trade, until things not nasty as newcomers undermined the work of the old smugglers and some of his friends were killed or arrested and deported to Siberia. He then converted into an obsessed vigilante who with two friends plundered the rival smuggling teams on the Soviet side of the border, until they too were eliminated, and he worked on his own. It was a depressing end to the book, but the story crackled along with details of how and what they smuggled and the women they encountered at their wild libations in the local inns. nobody possesses a car or a telephone but the closeknit community around the world of the smugglers still shined with authenticity and a certain innocence before the newcomers arrive. The occasional interference in their activities from the local Soviet and Polish border guards is like something a Robin Hod or Zorro adventure. Of course, the author, Sergiusz Piasecki, knew what he was writing about. Initially a poorly educated Belarusian orphan of noble Polish roots he had served in the Polish Army during the Polish-Soviet war, then continued as a spy cum smuggler, and ended up killing someone and being sentenced to hand. His sentence was commuted to a long imprisonment. In prison he continued to educate himself and wrote this, his first novel, on toilet paper in the prison. In 1937 he was discovered by a famous journalist who helped him publish the book, and it became a massive best-seller before eventually a presidential pardon freed him from jail. During the war he continued his spy work and, more ominously, he became an assassin, killing traitors condemned to death by underground courts of the Polish resistance. He resisted the Soviet as well as the German occupation. Ultimately, he escaped to the West and wrote several books published in the emigre publications in London. Of course, his books were banned in Communist Poland, especially his satire of a Red Army officer in Vilnius, but posthumously, he became a celebrated author again after Poland was free.

 

 

 

Meanwhile we draw on to our non-Christmas posing as we face Christmas with our friends and with my son. We are still suffering from the effects of having no central heating in our flat for more than a week. Our heating supplier claims that this is due to insufficient pressure in out HIU (heat interface unit). Unfortunately, the engineer can only come in the New Year to repair it. Luckily, after a very cold spell last week, the weather is relatively mild at present, and we have borrowed an electric fire from someone on the estate, so we can probably last it out.