American journal: Contrast or views from across the Atlantic
I planned my trip to the USA on a Fulbright scholarship for more than two years. At the time I started planning it, the world was still considered to be “fine”. There were no pandemics and, from the perspective of a non-academic, there was a basically stable political situation. The headlines of the biggest Czech newspapers were dominated by the topic of expired car first aid kits and, with a bit of perspective, even the biggest scandals could be described as manifestations of the normal operation of democracy. In the months and years that followed, we were forced to learn how quickly things could change and how quickly we could lose things we took for granted.
We have gradually learned to cope with the pandemic, although it has deprived and continues to deprive us of much. In the face of a long-term indeterminate disruption of social ties, we have found ways to maintain a semblance of normalcy even in lockdown, a word, by the way, that hardly anyone used two years ago. The waning strength of the pandemic recently gave us hope that we could get back to where we were before the acronym COVID-19 first appeared in the headlines.
Until the second half of February. Although we had been aware of the growing tensions on the eastern Ukrainian border since the turn of the year, few people thought that war would break out in Europe. It seemed to us irrational and unlikely, or just plain crazy. Shock, dismay, sadness, anger. These feelings have no boundaries and are felt by people in the heart of Europe as much as on the other side of the Atlantic. Here, too, there is no escaping the news, and it does not matter whether you study international relations, medicine or geography. Demonstrations are being held in front of the White House and people are standing there into the night wrapped in the Ukrainian flag. You can see blue and yellow here and there on houses, on cars and in shop windows.
But at the same time, you can tell that all of this is happening thousands of kilometres away, on another continent, across a vast ocean. For all the demonstrations, heated debates, expressions of solidarity, yellow and blue ribbons and newspaper headlines, the sense of urgency is not as strong as when the bombs are falling a few hours' drive from your home. Suddenly, you feel ashamed that, while Europe is gripped by fear, you are on the safe side. Literally. But reality has a way of catching up with you when you don't expect it. You go shopping at the supermarket and the news is on the big screen TV in the food court. Suddenly images of destroyed cities and the President of Ukraine pleading for help appear above people going about their daily routine and problems, refreshing themselves with coffee or sandwiches. The contrast between the peace of everyday life here and the immeasurable suffering there suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks.
In Central Europe, you can sometimes catch people making condemnations that Americans are self-absorbed and don't care what happens abroad. But such a view is unfair. The United States is as big as all of Europe, so if the news here is dominated by the issues of an individual American state or problems being addressed by the federal government in Washington, it is similar to Czech news coverage being dominated by domestic issues and events in Europe or the EU. But make no mistake. Russia's invasion of Ukraine is making its way here. Awareness of world events comes more naturally to you in the capital, but when even a taxi driver in Oklahoma confides that he's nervous and hopes the war doesn't flare up, even more, you think such condemnations are unfair to Americans. Then, when the waiter in the café at the local airport, after a few sentences, classifies you as an Eastern European based on your accent, the ego of a European boasting of his insights definitely takes a beating.
Here in the United States, the war in Ukraine may not be felt as intensely in everyday life, but it is all the more present in the personal stories of people who have a personal connection to Europe. Because of the diversity of nationalities, you are never far from someone who has experience from places where things are happening. America is a melting pot of cultures, so it can't help but be touched by such events. There are several colleagues like that in my department. Perhaps because of the physical distance and the contrast between normal life here and the hardships in Ukraine, their experiences and memories of "before" affect you with all the more force. The stories of people who have come here to study or work and don't know if they will have anywhere to go back to. Stories that cannot leave America indifferent. And they don't.
Martin Jirušek
Department of International Relations and European Studies, FSS MUNI
Currently a Fulbright Scholar at George Washington University, Washington, D.C.
