Art as a Battleground: Preservation of Identities, Power, and History in the Shadows of Political Turmoil
Conflicts in specific geographical regions have deplorably reverberated across the world, introducing new controversies into Western academic discourse through the evolution of intersectional political structures. How should these histories be approached and deliberated upon within the framework of Western European discourse? What ethical obligations do individuals engaged in the study or practice of art and culture carry? While these questions may seem ambiguous, perhaps we all possess unique perspectives that shape our understanding of these concepts.
Ukrainian and the Russian Empire
Lately, I met a friend studying the History of Art at Goldsmiths named Liliia Hladunova, who hails from Ukraine. Following one of the lectures we attended together, I took the opportunity to inquire about the current political climate in Ukraine. Ukraine had been part of the Soviet Union since 1922, with the political structure predominantly overseen by Russia. The Ukrainian communist party functioned as a subordinate entity, largely under the centralized authority in Moscow. Consequently, Ukrainian sovereignty had long been overshadowed by the Russian Empire. Following Ukraine's independence post the dissolution of the Soviet Union, Ukrainian nationalism emerged as a prevailing sentiment, particularly prominent in the Western regions of Ukraine, noticeably influenced paradoxically by other European countries.
Like many Ukrainians, prior to the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Lillia, too, harbored reservations about individuals actively endorsing nationalist ideologies in Ukraine, perceiving them as somewhat radical. Many of these individuals sought to preserve and uphold Ukrainian culture and art. The situation in Ukraine is further complicated by the fact that many Ukrainians have relatives or family members residing in Russia. Consequently, navigating cultural recognition in Ukraine poses a delicate challenge, given the intricate intertwining of Ukrainian and Russian cultures.
During the Ukraine-Russian War, Russian forces aimed to obliterate all aspects representing Ukrainian culture. For instance, Tjitske Wildervanck, the culture policy officer at the Dutch embassy in Kyiv, highlighted how Russia was intentionally targeting cultural sites to erase Ukrainian culture and identity. In an interview, Wildervanck revealed that a senior Russian official in occupied Zaporizhzhia recently stated that it’s time to burn everything Ukrainian down to the root. Anything left undamaged is to be Russified. This is accomplished through looting museums and prohibiting the use of the Ukrainian language in occupied regions. Since 2022, approximately 1,100 cultural buildings, including churches, theaters, libraries, cultural centers, museums, and other symbols of Ukrainian culture, have endured damage or destruction. The systematic destruction of cultural artifacts, values, and identities in Ukraine has been likened to a form of cultural genocide or 'culturicide' orchestrated by the Russians.
Culture, essential to a vibrant society, manifests through storytelling, celebrations, historical reflections, entertainment, and the envisioning of the future. When one's culture is eradicated, individuals face profound losses of identity, cultural heritage, and crucially, the physical evidence for future generations to understand a more holistic view of history. Following the invasion, Liliia recognized the significance and gravity of engaging in the intangible battleground of Ukrainian cultural preservation, steadfastly resisting the assimilation into Russian identity and culture. Initially, it is imperative to dismantle the Russian narrative that belittles the Ukrainian sense of inferiority regarding their identity and cultural heritage. Defiance and resistance through art and culture have kindled a beacon of hope during dark times for Liliia, casting light on the path forward.
Perhaps the events of the 2022 war sparked a political awakening in Liliia and many other Ukrainians, reinforcing the significance of preserving Ukrainian culture and identity. In a parallel narrative, Hong Kongers too faced similar challenges following the final crackdown by the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in 2020. The genesis of this conflict can be traced back to 1841 when British colonization of the Manchurian Qing Dynasty led to the formation of Hong Kong, only to be reclaimed by the PRC in 1997.
Hong Kong Colonial Conflicts & the Manchurians
Amidst colonial rule, Hong Kong's New Territories Region retained key aspects of its original culture and lifestyle, preserving the Cantonese language, values, and artworks despite British trading activities and gentrification projects. Notably, in a survey evaluating the impact of British colonization, 75% believed Hong Kong would have fared worse without British rule, with 65% viewing British governance favorably. This sentiment is deeply rooted in Hong Kong's historical context: It's crucial to note that the "Chinese government" under British rule was not authentically Chinese; it was largely Manchurian, a foreign ruling class that had historically subjugated the Chinese. Following the formation of the Republic of China in 1912, China liberated itself from Manchurian colonial rule, except for Hong Kong, the lone territory still under British control. Subsequently, the People's Republic of China emerged in 1949, ushering in a non-democratic regime that limited the influence of the average Chinese citizen.
In the early 1980s, Margaret Thatcher proposed a unique status for Hong Kong, akin to the Falkland Islands, combining British administration with Chinese sovereignty. However, this proposition was rebuffed by the Chinese government. In 1997, as China sought to bolster its global economic standing, it assumed control of Hong Kong as a special administrative region, granting it a high degree of autonomy for 50 years, encompassing various aspects of governance and identity. After 1997, Hong Kong embarked on a new phase of "neo-colonization" under communist Chinese rule. The city has steadily undergone sinicization, with authoritarian ideologies and legislative policies gradually supplanting its once-capitalistic liberal framework, morphing it into a single-party system and eroding its distinctive cultural identity. The People's Republic of China (PRC) has repeatedly interfered in Hong Kong's internal affairs, violating the agreement that guaranteed the city its autonomy. During British colonial rule, Cantonese was the predominant language spoken in Hong Kong. However, under Chinese rule, Mandarin language teaching is being enforced across almost all educational institutions, displacing Cantonese. This linguistic shift not only represents a diplomatic erasure of culture but also symbolizes a broader assault on Hong Kong's unique identity.
Furthermore, the artistic landscape of Hong Kong has not been spared from the heavy-handed influence of communist China. For instance, a famous sculpture artwork by artist Jens Galschiøt was taken down from its location at the University of Hong Kong, a memorial for those killed in the 1989 Tiananmen crackdown. Certain artists recognized for their politically charged creations departed Hong Kong under legal uncertainties. Several filmmakers have chosen to withhold their productions from public display in the city. Additionally, even creators focusing on non-political themes have started exercising greater caution in their work. Under the new administration, the artists who remain in Hong Kong have been collectively reclassified and redefined as Chinese artists. This erosion of language and art underscores the ongoing cultural struggles faced by the people of Hong Kong alongside the increase of Chinese control.
In the intricate tapestry of history woven across two distinct states lies a pressing inquiry: Who truly lays claim to the land in these regions? While this question holds weight, the spotlight of the following article pivots elsewhere.