EPALE - Electronic Platform for Adult Learning in Europe

Maija Meiere-Oša is Žanis Lipke* Memorial Museum educator, a Liepāja resident, a wife, and a mum to her seven-year-old daughter. At the same time, she is also a deeply thoughtful and empathetic person. We met her at this year's EPALE Community conference, a day dedicated to learning communities.

Since 24 February 2022, we are living in the shadow of an awful war unleashed right here in Europe. So many people are overtaken by fear, anger, hatred, and a range of other insufferable emotions, which encourage destructive behaviour in some people. 24 February has marked the end of the old, peaceful Europe, arousing many questions which are difficult to answer. How do we talk to people who live in different information spaces and believe in propaganda? What can we do to help fellow human beings who are suffering? What can we learn from Žanis Lipke’s historical example? How can art and culture help at this time? And why do we need to learn history even when we are grown up? This interview is an attempt to find answers, or at least directions, to these complex but very relevant questions.

Let’s get back to Žanis Lipke* who was saving Jews during WWII. Like you said at the exposition, he was not an unequivocally pure person, but at the same time, at a very difficult historical moment, he managed to demonstrate the best, most heroic human traits. What do you think makes someone a hero nowadays here in Latvia?

I believe, heroes with a capital “H”, whose names are heard even beyond their “bubble”, are the people who stand for values. The most important value is that every person is a human being – regardless of their race, ethnicity, gender, age, sexual orientation, or other circumstances. We need to take care of each other. I admire what the movement “Gribu palīdzēt bēgļiem” [I Want to Help Refugees] does – even before the war in Ukraine, they were trying to remind everyone that people who do not look like Latvians and who have come from a land far away deserve humane treatment. These people who represent such organisations, I believe, become modern heroes.

With the beginning of the war in Ukraine, many felt the calling to get off the sofa, get off social media and do something in the real world. Sharing something on social media is one thing, but it is not a heroic act with a capital “H”. Everyone who has stood up and done something real – these are the heroes.

At the time of peace, I also tell children over and over that everyone can become a hero in someone’s life, or a monster. Social polarisation did not start with the pandemic. Before that, we already had ideas that split society, and suddenly it became normal to write or say very mean things. Society has been polarised by different issues, such as the notion of family, LGBT rights, then the pandemic and vaccines came. The rhetoric we saw was often true hate speech. Every individual who chooses to raise another person up rather than crush, destroy, or influence them by force, is heroic. I have also experienced times when someone gave me a hand, which was very important at that moment. And you can be this person too who gives a hand to another human being, rather than a fist.

Regardless of whether these are war or peaceful times, there are always certain social groups which, due to some circumstances, are more vulnerable than others. Helping these groups is a small act of heroism.

Even if you disagree with someone’s life choices, you should not call them names and make their life hell. This is not dignified human behaviour. With stories about history, we always have to remember that those who commit these atrocities are people, and, unfortunately, there are murderers in the modern day too. This is not a war between angels and demons or aliens. These are people – they can be heroes or monsters. There are situations when we do not notice violent tendencies right away... It is one thing when a soldier shoots at another soldier – this is a profession, and this is what happens in war – but in this situation they are shooting at unarmed civilians from tanks. Unfortunately, human nature also has manifestations of violence.

We have to do our best to stay on the bright side where we see the good in people. We should avoid entering the hatred zone even when we are just speaking. Opinions will always differ, this is the nature of society. Some people refer to the past – what traditional or non-traditional means, what Christian values include or do not include, whereas others want to move forward in a diverse society. However, it is important not to cross the line – not to let violence into our words and actions.

What does the story of saving Jews teach us in this situation when Jews were made “inhuman” through propaganda?

Žanis Lipke always referred to the people he rescued by their name and surname, rather than saying – I saved a Jew. He saved specific people – Haims Smoļanskis, Vilis Frišs, Īzaks Drīzins. He referred to them by nicknames – Izya, Zyama. He always saw the person and that a person was being wronged. Lipke did not practice Judaism. He did not have any special relation to Jews. He was saving them because they were people. He saw more than that one part of their identity which the Nazis had highlighted and thus had given a reason to use weapons against these people.

We all have so many identities. For instance, I am a museum educator, a mum, a wife, a woman, a Liepāja resident, a Latvian. We have to see the whole, see the human in the other being, and then, I believe, it is harder to hurt that other human being; harder to hate them. The same woman that verbally attacked me that time – perhaps she was someone’s grandmother, maybe she knits socks for her grandchildren and makes kompot. Nonviolent communication teaches: I cannot stop where the other is my enemy – I have to move forward and find a solution. We need to find ways to make the world a little better – not even globally, just our everyday world. There are small things we can do to make everyday lives better.

Non-violent communication theory teaches: If we use so-called jackal language, that wakes up when we have negative emotions, it will not get us anywhere – two jackals will only be barking at each other. We need to use giraffe communication – it has a long neck, emotions travel slower, and it has a bigger heart. Yes, one of my identities is an idealist (smiling). I want to believe that we are moving towards the good.

In the context of the situation in Ukraine, it is interesting how people’s attitude to everything related to Russia is changing. I, for example, come from Rēzekne, which has a large proportion of Russian speakers. Identity conflicts, which are not expressed outwardly, exist in my family too because one grandfather is Ukrainian and the other is Russian. I have never had problems speaking Russian with people – my schoolmates, acquaintances; however, after 24 February, I felt a change of attitude in me – anger towards those who have lived in Latvia for so many years and have not learnt the Latvian language, have not integrated into our country and live in the information bubble of a foreign country. I think this is an extremely difficult time for every one of us – in a different way for each person, but difficult for all. Latvian Russians are also experiencing a conflict with their identity.

Of course. I have an excellent friend who lives in England. Her husband is half Russian, half Ukrainian. Before the beginning of the war, he always said that he was Russian – for ease of communication with others – but since February, he always says that he is Ukrainian. I can only imagine how someone whose identity is affected by it feels, someone who does not understand who they are.

The war brought about by Vladimir Putin’s regime is destroying any illusion of good in the Soviet Union. For some, these are at least childhood memories of films, cartoons, or music. These are very complex processes. Perhaps we could call it detoxification. It is painful for all. To some extent, it even helps to understand the person who is standing and shouting “Russia is a wonderful country”, is most likely thinking of the Soviet Russia. This person is hurting because they have lost their identity.

All of society is hurting at the moment, including those who remember the events of WWII and what the Soviet power has done to them. I recently attended a seminar in Prague with German museum specialists and a Ukrainian museum specialist who had just collected her own and her child’s things and left Ukraine. A German colleague was presenting the “German-Russian Museum”, which, in its essence, was an attempt at cooperation between Germany and Russia during the good times. The Ukrainian colleague’s reaction was, of course, very emotional – she said that Germany should finally build a monument to the German women raped by the Soviet army instead of investing money in such cooperation. This is the narrative – Germany as the defeated party has suffered punishment and accepted it as something that had to be, and the winning party rapes women in the conquered land, but this is a war crime, which we need to talk about. This is why the pain from these old traumas is now resurfacing again.

Some also say that the reason Russia continues coveting and conquering new territories is that Germany, unlike Russia, has taken the blame, reconsidered its crimes, has publicly apologised, but Russia is positioning itself as the victor; however, I think no one wins in war.

Maija: The Soviet power has turned this war victory into their identity myth because the Soviet Union has no older roots to look back at – they have this big victory. This is where everything starts and ends. And they have monopolised this victory and levelled this victory out. Now they are pushing totally unprepared young men to war again, young man who should perhaps stay home and improve their cities and towns, but they are going to war to a foreign land. And Ukrainians are also warning – if you come as enemies, you will die as enemies.

Sending these unprepared young men to war is another war crime. This is similar to the recent screen adaptation of Erich Maria Remarque’s novel on Netflix “All Quiet on the Western Front” where such youth are thrown into war with a patriotic “hurrah”, where their life has absolutely no value. It is also frightening that the first people Russia called up for service were from remote regions, which Moscow and Saint Petersburg do not care about. These people would hardly have found work in a Moscow restaurant or office because they do not have a Slavic appearance, but to die in a war for nothing – they are good enough.

I liked the quote by ex-president Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga in the show “1:1” on Latvijas Televīzija that Putin is currently committing a massive crime against his country and against these nations and races which he deems less important – just clearing this territory. Mao Zedong in China acted similarly when performing his “cleansings” of contrarians. We have to always keep in mind that we have eurocentric thinking, whereas the world is a lot bigger.

Art and culture seem to be a type of therapy. Could works created in inhumane and hard conditions be somehow therapeutic for the creator as well as the viewer? What do you think?

Art, music, film, and other artistic forms of expression are another language – one more way of communication. I cannot say whether it always leads to healing, but it is one of the ways to try and heal wounds. We have just recently, during the pandemic, had an exhibition of Boris Lurie whose works are devoted to the Holocaust, which he had hidden from the public before. These were graphics, various memory scenes. I would not say this artist was a healed person. I think the keyword is “sharing” – trouble shared is a trouble halved, and the fact that in this way you find yourself with people who really understand you. There are associations of Holocaust survivors. These people come together and talk about these traumas, remembering them, and some kind of healing takes place at that moment. I’ve had an experience where I was talking to Holocaust survivors, and they were talking about these experiences, but then they suddenly sighed and said – well, you don’t understand anyway. How do you tell people about genocide, how do you tell them about this awful fear you were living with day in and day out, how do you tell them about the compromises you made with your dignity to survive at least one more day, one hour? Only those who have experienced it can understand it.

I have had a wonderful experience talking to a man who survived the Holocaust. I interviewed him at the age of 89, but he was 10 at the time of the Holocaust and living in Liepāja. I am from Liepāja myself, and he was telling me about the streets with the old names, which I knew, and it turned out that for some time I lived in a flat where he had lived – I knew where the rooms were located, and here it was, our common space. Of course, I will never be able to understand what he has been through, but he was not alone in his memories. When elderly people come to us to listen about Jews, they are often full of some kind of stereotypes and ideas, and it is sometimes difficult to evoke empathy, but I know that Latvians are hurt by the deportations. I bring this together into a cruel irony of fate – so many Jews were deported, and this, in fact, was their opportunity to survive. Those who were not deported were killed.

What were Jews deported for?

They were the middle class – someone owned a shop, another owned something else, and the Soviet power wanted to destroy the bourgeoise. There was an incident in Liepāja where the Rusinek family was deported because they owned a watch factory. They had shops in Rīga and Liepāja and employed local Jews at their factory. It was a flourishing company, which is why the family was deported. They did not touch the workers. One week later, the Nazis entered Latvia. The remaining workers were hunted down and killed in summer. Imagine, this frightful day in the memories of Latvians – deportation – turned out to be a chance for survival for some. The Rusinek family survived and returned to Latvia, but later they had to flee again. In essence, deportation was a ticket to survival – this is how awful the times were. Whereas Rusineks’ daughter, who lived in Rīga at the time, was killed in Rumbula together with her little baby. These stories, where everyone can relate to something, allow us to empathise with other people’s pain. And empathy is a value which, I believe, could save this world.

The time period of WWII comprised an absolute lack of regard for human life. Imagine, we all have our dreams where we wish to travel, to experience something, we want to see our children grow up... And suddenly there is a war, a tank drives up to a house and blows it up. Lack of regard for human life appears when there is a bloodsucker on the throne deciding people’s fate.

Can an adult person learn and start seeing history differently? The majority of our adult population was raised in the Soviet Union where interpretation of history was completely different...

This is a big question. I am learning every day – this is my aim. I believe learning is a huge asset. This is why it is unthinkable to me that someone could say – I have learnt something and now I know absolutely everything. I believe we need to learn all the time. But it is a painful process – reconsidering things you think you know. Sometimes it means reconsidering what your ancestors have told you by placing it into the global context. For example, one Holocaust survivor has allegedly said that Latvians started killing Jews before the Nazis had come, which is completely false. I know that he has passed this message to his child, who is also repeating it. These are lies, it is not historical truth. At some point in this chain someone has to wake up and review history. Incorrect historical facts can lead to big trouble – it is dangerous. I believe we always have to review things, always have to learn – regardless of what it is, whether it is related to professional or private life.

I would definitely like to encourage every adult to learn – be it a new language, or driving classes, which, for example, I am taking now, or something else. Everyone who is doing a job well has a great challenge to get out of their comfort zone and, metaphorically speaking, “throw themselves into a new lake and swim across it”. It is slow, it is hard, but it has to be done.

* Žanis Lipke (real name Jānis Lipke; born on 1 February 1900 in Jelgava, died on 14 May 1987 in Rīga) was a Latvian rescuer of Jews during the Nazi occupation. Lipke with his wife Johanna, friends, and acquaintances, saved more than 50 Jewish lives. After the war, Soviet institutions were suspicious about Lipke’s activity and concealed it because the motives of his selfless and heroic actions were unclear. Lipke was repeatedly called to the KGB. The investigators suspected that Jews had been paying for their rescue with gold and diamonds.

Read the first part of the interview here.

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