The interview with Professor Svitlana Kuzmina, who worked at Taurida National University before the occupation of Crimea and after moving to Kyiv, tells about her experience at Taurida. She shares her memories of how she witnessed the occupation and how the propaganda affected her colleagues. The important issue of the relationship between science and politics in times of conflict is addressed. Svitlana Kuzmina shares her experience of living and working in Crimea, where her research interests were mainly focused on the history of the philosophy of education and upbringing. The professor notes that the university is a place of power where science and education have a huge potential to change the world for the better.
What did you do in Crimea before 2014?
I worked in Crimea at the Taurida National University as a lecturer at the Department of Pedagogy and was actively involved in research. In general, my research interests were focused on Kyiv, as I studied the history of the philosophy of education and upbringing, as well as the Kyiv academic tradition of the 19th and early 20th centuries. In addition, since 2012, I have been involved in a large and complex research project “Kyiv Theological Academy in Names 1819-1924.”
You witnessed the occupation of Crimea, what did it look like?
For me, it all started in October, when Euromaidan broke out. Yanukovych refused Ukraine’s European choice, and then, when the Maidan was brutally dispersed at the end of November, it became clear that everything would be very difficult. Later, I felt that my colleagues at work were in a strange state, they were afraid. Information was spreading that Banderites were travelling to Simferopol by train and would slaughter everyone there. At that time, I hadn’t watched television for about 10 years and didn’t use social media either. I mostly followed the events through news websites. So when my colleague at the department had a hysteria, I was surprised, and then realized that it was propaganda at work.
For example, there was also a dispute in one of the institutions in Simferopol. An elderly woman said that the Russians should restore order, and I replied: “Do you want Crimea to become a hot spot? Don’t you understand that this is a war?” I mean, such sentiments were very strange. And then the rallies began on 27-28 February. My husband and I attended the rallies on Euromaidan. The biggest ones were on 8-9 March. It was very inspiring, we were singing the Ukrainian anthem, talking, fraternizing, and then I saw a column of men with service dogs coming in our direction. They were unarmed, but they looked dangerous. When we entered the underground passage, people who looked like homeless people stood under the walls on both sides and shouted that we were traitors. But it was unclear: “traitors to what”? After the rally, we started to leave, but it was scary. There were a lot of suspicious people walking around, like titushky (these were mercenary agents in Ukraine who supported the Ukrainian security services during the administration of Viktor Yanukovych – ed.)
At work, I stopped talking to my colleagues, they were celebrating it (Russia’s occupation of Crimea – ed.) There was no point in arguing with them, because they were as zombified as possible. For me, the war started on those days. Over the next few days, the Russian flag was already flying. It was very offensive to see it, the flags, the symbols, and they immediately started sticking posters on billboards with the words “Russian Spring”.
What was the final point of your decision to leave Crimea?
I realized that I had to quit my job. Staying at the university meant accepting their rules. Some of the students I taught were on the side of Ukraine, while others hoped that Russia would allocate a significant budget to the university, and it would be one of the best universities. Our head of the department, Gluzman, said the same thing. Russian deputies came to the university and promised golden mountains. About a billion rubles a year. Then, in a few weeks, the ruble replaced the hryvnia. I read a lot about totalitarianism and understood that Russia was a recreation of the Soviet Union. There was a powerful network of agents at the university that actively spread Russian narratives throughout the years of independence.
I worked until the end of the academic year, and TNU remained Ukrainian until 2015, when the process of Russian restructuring began. At the meetings, they told fairy tales about how good things would be for Crimea being part of Russia. To tell the truth, they poured their rubles into us, because the difference with the Ukrainian salary was significant, about twice as much. Everyone was very happy about bonuses and health programmes. I worked at that department for 20 years: I rose from an assistant to a professor. My resignation letter was signed instantly, without any persuasion or surprise.
I was treated well at the department, and it was an element of friendly identity theft. When they said something bad about Ukraine, I asked them not to say that because I was Ukrainian. In response, I heard “what kind of Ukrainian are you, you are ours”. That’s how it was for all 20 years. After my release, I continued to work on the project. I went to Kyiv very often, I had to work in the archives. Crossing the border was a very unpleasant procedure, I was detained and interrogated. And when you come out on our side and see our flag, you just cry, you are happy that you’re free. And there you are in prison. I came to Kyiv, and just at that moment, Taurida University was reopening. But I was not accepted at first. So I started learning English and working in a call centre. There was no specific plan.
Did your family move from Crimea or did they stay there?
Not all my relatives left Crimea. My mum and sister stayed behind. It was very difficult psychologically.
Tell us about the restoration of Vernadsky National University in Ukraine’s capital, Kyiv.
I saw the news that Volodymyr Kazarin had succeeded in restoring TNU in Kyiv. I found his address and wrote him an email saying that I was ready to work at TNU, it was important to me. During the autumn and winter of 2016, we met and discussed various issues regarding TNU. And now he tells me that there is a position of director of the Institute of Philology and Journalism. It was a shock for me because I had never held an administrative position. The position of associate professor was enough for me to be a fairly free person and continue my research, because I had many creative ideas.
What difficulties did you encounter? Do you remember your first day at work?
I worked with Nataliia Ishchenko, she showed me around the dean’s office and gave me a list of teachers and their salaries. The departments had no premises, no desks, no computers. My first challenge was to prepare materials for admission, including exam syllabi and tickets. There was absolutely nothing. We orientated the teachers, they prepared the materials, but it was difficult to work technically according to the standards. It was scary there, I made my own diplomas and applications. There were problems with renewing licenses and certificates. I had to make curricula. I spent a lot of time on this because I had two departments. The premises were being renovated. We had only one classroom available, and we had about 100 students. There were no teachers, especially for Turkish and Arabic. And we recruited a group for Arabic!
Did many TNU students move from Crimea to Kyiv?
At the beginning, there were 87 students (full-time and part-time) from Crimea. Then it was about 10 per cent of all students from Crimea. Not so many.
How did you establish communication between teachers and students?
Somehow, gradually, everyone got to know each other, and relations improved. I adhered to the principle of facilitation, which means supporting the initiative. We established communication with students on Facebook, and published the timetable there. I also know that the institute has its own “currency” – linguocoins.
How did the idea of the currency come about?
The author of the idea is Tatiana Poggio. In 2018, we thought that we needed a holiday. Then I remembered that there was a tradition at TNU called Faculty Days. And Tetiana once came to me and said: “Why don’t we organize our own currency, and have competitions on the day of the faculty, and students can earn this currency to exchange for points?” It was a brilliant idea.
Has the university held any events in the intellectual struggle against Russian aggression in Kyiv?
Volodymyr Kazarin was very good at performing the representative function of the university. At all the venues where he was invited, he promoted TNU and raised the topic of Crimea. In addition, on his initiative, we held the Crimean International Forum twice. Thanks to him, we developed a model that this can be an international event. He achieved this, and the technical skills of Olena Popova played a key role.
Then there was cooperation with Crimean Tatar NGOs, in particular, Alyem and the Crimean Tatar Resource Centre. We held joint events with them – days of resistance to the occupation of Crimea, then exhibitions dedicated to political hostages held in Crimea. This cooperation was very active. As for the active work of the university, it was clearly insufficient. This is due to the fact that the university merged with the Academy of Municipal Administration, and Kyiv residents dominated there. For many of them, Crimea was not a relevant topic. We tried to do our best at the institute with the resources we had. TNU in Crimea was famous for teaching the Crimean Tatar language to Crimeans.
Was it difficult to restore it in the capital, given the low popularity of the language and the lack of teachers?
In fact, there is interest in it. The other thing is that when Crimea was occupied, all the departments were left without their work. Academic institutionalisation was lost. It is possible only when there are staff, and we had a few teachers. And there were 3–4 students, and this trend continues now. Now there is no sufficient scope for the use of the Crimean Tatar language. That’s why it was difficult at the beginning. The organisation of this process is a merit of Olga Semenets. She made this process possible, the teachers had a lot of workloads. We were well aware that this was a unique programme for the university, even though it was unprofitable. At the same time, we realised that without an educational programme in Crimean Tatar philology, there was no point in the existence of the Institute of Philology. I asked the teachers to organise events to promote the Crimean Tatar language, history, and culture.
What challenges did the university face during the pandemic and the full-scale invasion?
Let’s start with Covid-19. The main challenge was that the institute wouldn’t simply function properly. That is, everyone is at home, the connection is lost, the educational process does not take place. There was nothing basically from the ministry, no help except for letters of recommendation. The administration has gone on holiday for the time being. It seems that the accounting department recommended it.
So, of course, the three of us, Popova, Semenets and me, started planning how to keep the institute staff with us. We decided to act gradually, and the teachers were told to communicate with students on the platform they could use: Skype, Zoom, Viber. And we all studied hard to get good at these technologies, we knew how to work in shared documents, we had an online timetable. We were saved by taking the first steps towards digitalization. We signed an agreement with Google and got a corporate environment, started implementing a system with classrooms. We were all moving forward. We already had experience.
In February 2022, we planned to call everyone to classroom training. The educational process was supposed to start on 28 February, and it was good that the students had not yet arrived (24.02.2022 – Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine – ed.). And we entered this period in a state of full readiness. There was a report that TNU was suspending the educational process. One challenge is dispersion, the disintegration of the community, everyone ran away. And the second is stress, the loss of student motivation. We talked to the professors and decided to organize psychological meetings for the students. We had to do something. We invited a military psychologist to meet with our students. We also conducted a survey asking our youth which social network they use most of the time for communication. And there was 100 per cent support for Telegram, so we went to Telegram. We created a chat for our university professors to discuss organizational work, news, various meetings, and we also created joint chats with the students to support each other. The university is a place of strength. At TNU, we organized a humanitarian headquarters and helped those who needed it.
Then we had to keep an eye on the students who stayed in the dormitories. We announced a three-week holiday, and then started discussing going back to university. Most of the students went to practice to start with something lite. And so we gradually started, and then our new rector and vice-rector came… These weeks were very difficult, but we survived.
Having evaluated your 5 years as director, would you like to change anything? And if so, what exactly?
I would not like to change anything as a director. Even though I had no experience, my training was purely theoretical, but I had a rough idea of what the process should look like. I always consulted with my colleagues and students. I don’t like it when people feel constrained in my presence. I think my approach was successful. I really wanted to create unique, interesting educational programmes. The only thing is that I did not find a common language with the current rector and vice-rector. I’m trying to understand what happened, why they started pushing me out of the university. Constant devaluation and dismissive attitude. It was hard to endure. I don’t think there would have been a diplomatic way out of this situation.
Now let’s talk a bit about reintegration of higher education in the reoccupied territories. How do you think we should prepare universities to return to the occupied territories, where they had functioned before Russian invasion?
I believe that there should be a state program for the reintegration of higher education in the reoccupied territories. This should be a single state policy for everyone. I can’t speak for other state institutions, but TNU, as it is now, in its current form, is definitely not needed in Crimea. There is no Crimean component in TNU now, no ideas on how to reintegrate Crimea with the help of the university. It is necessary to study the educational situation there, the current order, the needs of Ukraine. We need to have a reintegration strategy, how to coordinate teaching in the state language.
The issue of reintegration should have been resolved back in 2016, when Tavriysky started working in Kyiv. Kazarin had such intentions, but intentions are one thing, real life is another one. We did not receive what we were promised in terms of funding and resources. It was just ordinary funding, like for an ordinary university. We spent these 5 years trying to get back on our feet, launch the educational process, create a documentary base and take many steps that require a lot of effort. But there was no time to deal with the Crimean issue. The subjective factor is our leadership, which was not ready for a dialogue with NGOs that showed us that they were ready to cooperate. They promoted the Crimean issue on all Ukrainian platforms so that this topic would not disappear. However, unfortunately, there were and there are no representatives of these NGOs on the university’s supervisory board.
