Objects May Be Closer Than They Appear

When I'm at home in the US, I think about Russian war against Ukraine every day, but safe to say, most Americans do not.  The price of fuel, the mid-term elections, and all of our family responsibilities probably take up more space in our minds.

But here in Latvia, and also in Lithuania and Estonia, the war is far from theoretical and I've been stuck both by how present the concerns are, how much they relate to past history, and how museums and other cultural institutions are preparing for the worst.

For the clearest message, the large image at the top of this post is the front of the Pauls Stradiņš Museum of the History of Medicine--located directly across from the Russian Embassy.  The director had it put up two weeks after the full-scale invasion, with the agreement of the full staff, and it has remained ever since, even becoming a more permanent installation.

Blue and yellow Ukrainian flags of support are still seen everywhere on government offices, private homes and public businesses.  In conversations, all sorts of people continue to express support for Ukrainan refugees here in the country (including telling me where to get the best Ukrainian food at a market!).

None of this is surprising.  These three tiny Baltic nations were a part of the Soviet Union from 1944-1991.  With that, of course, came deportations and control of all sorts.  You can see this in memorials like the Memorial to the Victims of the Soviet Occupation "History Tactile", below and the plaques to personages on buildings that show their death dates as due to either Soviets or Nazis.

But even more telling are the stories from everyday people.  The person whose mother was a librarian and hid books in their attic at home so they wouldn't be taken away.  The families who continued speaking their own language, rather than the mandated Russian.  The chef on a market walk who described what the Soviets had done to local food. In a workshop here in Riga about dialogic education, together we thought about the Four Truths and the 1991 barricades, showing personal truths and also understandings about the challenge, still, of reconciliation.

But what about the now?  Museumm colleagues shared that Ukraine's experience taught them that they were entirely unprepared for the threat of war--emergency plans were about floods or fire, much as they are in the United States.  New plans and regular drills are now a part of everyone's life at their museum.  I'm old enough that it reminded me somehow of all of the drills done in my school during the Cold War.

But it's not just museum people who are concerned.  At the NEMO conference in Vilnius, Lithuania, two speakers really stood out to me.  Magnus Hort from the Swedish Psychological Defense Agency, whose purpose is to safeguard democratic society, freedom and indepence spoke about how Ukraine was a special focus--they (Sweden) was suppoeting, but now they were learning a great about countering psychological warfare from Ukrainians, countering, as he said, efforts to "keep us afraid."

Lukas Alsys, Lithuanian MInister of Culture started by telling the audience that in Lithuania, museums are the second most trusted institution after firefighters and rescue workers, but reminded us that we "cannot settle for good intentions."  He shared two lessons learned from Ukraine:

• Cultural protection must begin before a crisis.
• The continuation of culture institutions is essential to society. 

I'm so proud to know folks at Ukrainian cultural institutions that are inspiring change in other places and teaching us new ways of working.  And proud also, to get to know Baltic colleagues in the same way!