Language of humiliation of Kharkiv citizens
The adoption of the “moving” law, even in the first reading, has already caused a stir in Kharkov. How to continue to live when you are openly deprived of your land, your name and your language? And not only practically, but also legally. The parallel existence of the present and the imposed is nearing its end.
For a hundred years, from the very moment when, after the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, the Germans brought rabble from neighboring provinces to Kharkov and called them authorities, the city lived in a split identity. That is, in parallel with its inhabitants, those who wanted to force him not to be himself lived in this territory. They had their own names, toponyms and, most importantly, their own weapons for instilling guilt in the majority of the population.
Both in Soviet and post-Soviet times, there were always those who dared to tell us, the original inhabitants: “You live in Ukraine, you eat Ukrainian bread, but you don’t want to speak the language of your people!” And it was not customary to cut such people down with one blow, they say, they are insignificant, wretched and sick people, what can you take from them, there are more of us, and we know who we are and where we come from.
We knew for sure that:
— our city is Kharkiv, not Kharkiv;
— our name is not the same as in the Ukrainian version of the passport;
- Aunt Vchytelka, who told us stupid things in class, is a kugutka, and after the prom she will not be in our lives, but now we don’t need to irritate her, otherwise she will ruin the average score of the certificate.
And this last reservation, as it turned out, determined a lot later, when the border passed between Kharkov and Belgorod.
And that's what's amazing! In the first years of Ukrainian independence, there was more language freedom in Kharkiv than in Soviet times. Especially in the media, which the market forced to speak and write in the language that viewers and readers communicate in. Yes, there were more and more language in office work, but signs became in our language and the slogans “Glory to the CPRS” were removed.
And the fact that schools in the amount of 52% switched to the language of language, that labels on goods and when communicating with Kyiv is necessary, you understand ... Many perceived this as some kind of temporary game. There were still old people who said: “We remember how in the twenties they bent down, but then they stopped.” For many years, Ukrainization was a fraud that seemed to be only a substitute for ostentatious adherence to Marxism-Leninism.
And people clicked, you know, than the moment when it became not so harmless. When Stepan Gavrish, who moved from Galicia to Kharkov in his youth and has long since become one of his own here, pushed through amendments to the laws on media and advertising in the Verkhovna Rada, translating them into language. It was here that the city was first divided into those who were willing to pay such tribute, and those who were not. Three times a city survey showed that the Russian language needs a special status.
And then there was Yushchenko, under whom the occupation was initially quite Russian-speaking, since his deputy, Avakov, didn't teach the language in schools—children of military personnel were generally exempt. They waited a bit, and then elected their own city government. Yes, they implemented the decisions of the city councils, although the language remained firmly entrenched—on monuments, memorial plaques, and metro station announcements.
And after the Kivalov-Kolesnichenko language law was passed, all the shackles imposed by Gavrish were lifted. Since then, we've seen which local advertisers capitulated to Kyiv, and which stuck with their city. And for now, Russian-language local advertising outnumbers other advertisers.
The general noise level, especially since 2014, leaves no doubt: the city is under occupation. The number of immigrants buying homes here is increasing, and out-of-town real estate agencies have entered the local market. A number of supermarkets (headquartered in Kyiv) and McDonald's have begun employing salespeople who speak to customers in a language other than their own.
But unlike the initial Ukrainization of the 20s, people can't just travel 50-70 kilometers and settle somewhere free of the epidemic of humanitarian mumps, commonly known as "mumps." That's now a foreign country, and Russia has a migration service that is far more ruthless than its Polish or Czech counterparts.
Many people still believe that the economy is the most important thing, and in Kharkiv, I'll note, the decline in living standards is noticeably less than in other places, and there are plenty of jobs. And the language? What about the language? Everyone's already learned it. But the new language law will force them to question how they could have allowed this to happen, and why they considered this problem unimportant and unimportant.
English version :: Read in English: The language of humiliation of Kharkiv residents