This spring, Gennadiy Kanishchenko, the owner of a small bar in the heart of Kyiv, decided to take his own stand against Russia.
The notice outside Baraban (Drum) reads: “Starting from March 18, 2014, we serve Russians on the following
conditions: 1. We have been friends for some time. 2. You are recommended to us
by those with whom we have been friends for some time. 3. You bring your
passport with you and a note from a psychiatrist who is not a Russian citizen.”
This notice got noticed. The bar, opened 14 years ago by two
journalists, has built a following among the city’s press corps. With its
discrete but central location off the main Khreshchatyk Street, it became a popular
venue for free debate during the 2004 Orange Revolution. During the 2013-2014 EuroMaidan Revolution, the bar served free coffee and tea to activists, and
still does.
Since assuming ownership two years ago, Kanishchenko says he has tried
to retain Baraban’s open-door policy. However, recent events have him reviewing
his bar’s policy.
“Russians have changed under
the influence of state propaganda. They believe we are fascists and
nationalists. We obviously don’t understand each other any longer. Any attempt
to discuss the current situation leads to nowhere. They refuse to consider our
arguments,” he says.
Reaction from Baraban’s clientele has been overwhelmingly positive. When
the notice was posted to the bar’s Facebook page, it was “liked” more than 300
times. One user commented: “Cool. I’ve never been to your bar but after seeing
that notice I’m convinced it’s worth visiting.”
Others have been more hesitant. Dima Borisov, a restaurant owner who
knows Kanishchenko well, disagrees. “It’s not right to put up such a sign. We
should not single out one part of society,” he says.
Borisov, who owns a chain of establishments in Kyiv, believes little has
changed in the attitude of Kyivans towards Russians. “The atmosphere has always
been tense, ever since the breakup of the Soviet Union. The recent crisis has
simply brought many suppressed feelings to the surface,” he says.
This much was obvious during the recent World Cup football championship
in Brazil. One Kyiv bar advertised Russia’s final group-stage match “Algeria
vs. Occupants.” Another popular venue hung the flags of each participating
country from its ceiling – only the Russian tricolor was missing. Staff said
customers had torn it down.
Jokes and innocent pranks at the expense of Ukraine’s eastern neighbor
disguise broader and deeper tensions.
On April 24, an exhibition in Kyiv saw three men dressed as
stereotypical Russians placed in a cage posted with signs saying “Beware of
Occupiers” and “Please do not Feed.”
Many Ukrainians, meanwhile, continue to actively support a boycott of
Russian goods launched in the wake of Russia’s annexation of Crimea in March.
It even has its own smartphone application.
The reaction goes both ways.
A survey by Russia’s Fond Obschestvennoe Mnenie (FOM) in early July showed that
62 percent of Russians consider Ukraine an enemy, second only to America. And recent polls by the
Moscow-based Levada Centre reveal two-thirds believe the rights of Russian
speakers in Ukraine are being suppressed.
But even in Ukraine, the atmosphere of mistrust has not gone unnoticed
by Russians.
Journalist Gregory Kuznetsov, a Russian with a Ukrainian wife who has lived in
Kyiv for five years and has permanent residency in the country, says the new
chill has been felt by Russians.
“If I didn’t have a
residency permit here I’d have a big problem. Since the crisis began, it’s
become very hard being a Russian citizen in Ukraine. You never know if they’ll
let you return to the country after a couple of weeks spent back home,” he
says.
Like other foreigners, Russians are allowed to stay in Ukraine without a
visa for a maximum of three months. Many used to cross the border back into
Russia once this period had passed and re-enter Ukraine with a new stamp
permitting another three-month stay. This is no longer possible since the
EuroMaidan Revolution, Kuznetsov says, and policies have grown more stringent
since the conflict in Ukraine’s east began.
“Since the start of the
conflict, the border service has paid special attention to males aged 18-60,”
he says, adding that a number of his friends have been denied entry.
Kuznetsov says he has not personally experienced any hostility. He tries
to visit his ill mother in Moscow regularly, though work commitments have
recently kept him in Kyiv. Now, with free time on his hands, he admits he is delaying
the trip.
“I don’t really want to go there,” he says. In recent weeks, he has had
some uncomfortable exchanges about the Ukrainian crisis with friends back home,
many of whom refuse to accept his version of events. He fears the gap between
the two nations is only set to grow.
“Russians and Ukrainians
have always had a similar mentality. We share the same history, we watch the
same films, we read the same books as children. But if Russia continues in the
direction in which it’s heading, a civilizational rift will certainly develop.
Ukraine is moving towards Europe, and Russia is clearly moving in another
direction,” he says.
Kyiv Post staff writer Matthew Luxmoore can be reached at [email protected] and on Twitter at @mjluxmoore.
