Went to the museum of the occupation of Latvia today. Very confronting.
Latvia has been occupied by both Germany and Russia continuously from 1939, first one, then the other, then back to the Red Army. In the process, a third of all Latvians were killed. All of the Jews shot during the brief Nazi occupation. Thousands sent to workcamps. And then when the worst of the workcamps are past, Russians move in, so that now Latvians make up only 58% of the population. In Riga, they’re a minority. In 1993, they declared independence and now they’re applying to join the EU.
I’m a mongrel mix of ethnicities, but apart from the Dutch, the rest is mostly Eastern Europe. Some of you may know the ridiculous story of how I thought I was ethnic Russian until I found out as an adult that most of those trappings around the house were tourist trinkets bought on a trip my parents made to Russia when I was 5 or something.
This is partly a trip about roots. I am going to Kiev, where my grandfather was born. After so many years hanging around with re-enactors and Celtic enthusiasts, I am tracing *my* heritage, going to museums of history and looking at the clothes my people wore in the 10th and 11th centuries. And here’s where I stop, struck dumb by my own thoughts. *My* people? What does *that* mean?
The museum of Jewish Culture in Latvia only goes back to the 17th century. Are the 11th century clothes of the models in the Museum of the History of Latvia what Jews of the period would have worn? Were there even Jews here then?
What does it *mean* anyway? One of the reasons I ended up in difficulties with Zack’s friend Anneke was an awkward discussion about the Holocaust. Zack responded with something about finding life easier by not identifying as anything (he’s from a Jewish heritage too). But to me that’s a cop-out, and besides, a guy wearing a Sawanee sweatshirt is very strongly identifying as something: an American, from a particular hometown. He even calls it “representing”.
Of course, not “identifying”, not “labelling” is exactly what I’ve been ranting about for the last 15 years to anyone who’ll listen. I am the pomo, anti-category, anti-label queen. And yet here I am talking about “my” people.
The occupation of Latvia by Germans and Russians is especially powerful for me. The Germans would have killed me because I was Jewish. The Russians also oppressed minority Jews – like my Ukrainian grandfather – and would have killed me or deported me for being an intellectual, political, for refusing to compromise and write poetry in praise of Stalin.
This key question of difference, of identity and how it is tied up with language is vital. I presume it is why you are studying Scots gaelic, dr_zero although I’ve never discussed it with you.
I’ve never wanted to learn Russian really. But I think maybe learning yiddish and Ukrainian are somewhere in my future.
Once again, a post with no conclusions whatsoever. Over to you lot: what does the phrase “my people” mean to you?