Everyday fascism: a
stroll through Lvov
By Radik
Gradenko– Australia
WTTV Contributor
southerncrosstalks.com
23/11/15
The idea to inspect
Lvov for nationalist sentiments is long overdue, and I decided to go around on
the way to dropping by for the home football match of “Karpat.”
A ten minute walk from
the train station and we find ourselves near a monument to Stepan Bandera. At
the base are a few bouquets and the the legs are wrapped in the red and black
flag of the Ukrainian insurgent army.
There are white marks
from bird droppings visible on the monument. Banderites are too lazy to clean
their idol.
The benches near the
monument are covered in empty beer bottles and fast food wrappers. At seven in
the morning, there are already tourists taking photos near the monument.
The monument to
Bandera is located on Stepan Bandera street which lies between the streets
“Heroes of UPA” and “Evgeney Konovalets Street.” Looking at the first billboard
on Bandera street, I see that this is propaganda material from Irina Farion.
The sign reads: “
April, 29, 98 years since the day of the beginning of the Ukrainian Sich
Riflemen’s victorious battles with the Muscovite occupants on mount Makovka.”
The memorial plaque to
Konovalets, the founder of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists has more
wreaths and bouquets than the monument to Bandera.
Much is said about the
role of Ukrainian media in zombifying the population, but there no one talks
about the influence of the Greco-Catholic Church on the masses.
I went to the morning
service at the first cathedral and barely survived the first five minutes. The
bishop spoke of the eternal enemy who has come to capture the territory of
Ukraine, the cowardly president who fled to Russia, and the necessity of taking
up arms.
The bishop’s speech
resembled a pre-election propaganda speech of people’s deputy candidates, not
the monologue of a priest. The cathedral was packed, and Lvov residents, with
mouths wide open, listened to the bishop and took everything that he said at face
value.
Going for breakfast to
a cafe, I was shocked by the selection of songs coming from the speakers. One
year ago, the same buildings played European pop, but now one hears hastily
recorded songs with one sad message: the valiant time has come, it’s necessary
to defend Ukraine, die on the battlefield, die for Ukraine, and become a hero.
Lvov residents are
subjected to powerful ideological indoctrination not even counting the press.
The people of Galicia
are a religious folk and the word of a bishop is more important to them words
from a TV presenter.
I passed by another
catholic cathedral and noticed an approaching hearse. they had brought the body
of an officer of the Ukrainian army, killed in Donbass, to a funeral service.
Listening in on the assembly of relatives and friends, I heard that he was 40
years old and was killed two days earlier near Debaltsevo.
I carefully look at
their faces. Do you think that they are filled with sorrow, hatred, or desire
for revenge? Nothing of the sort! On the faces of the relatives of the
deceased, there is confusion. They generally don’t seem to understand what’s
going on in Ukraine.
All of their
conversations boiled down to an anxiousness to receive due financial aid for
the burial from the state. Why their son, father, and husband died doesn’t
bother them.
Analytical thinking is
irrelevant today in Lvov.
In the afternoon, on
Liberty Prospect, the central street of Lvov, there is a traffic block.
Banderites are solemnly marching along the street in full uniform accompanied
by cavalry and a brass band. They’re playing Nazi march anthems from the ’30’s.
If I felt like I had
wound up in the movie “Battleship Potemkin” on May 2 in Odessa, then on
November 2 in Lvov I somehow wound up in the Bob Fosse’s movie “Cabaret.” Nazis
pompously march through the streets, and tourists smile cutely and pretend that
nothing is happening.
I go to a book stand.
Just reading the titles of the brochures was enough for me. : “Ukrainian
Nightingale Battalion Group – Questions and Answers,” “Moskali – not Russians
and not Slavs,” and “The Fascism of Yanukovich and Putin.”
At “Ukraine” stadium,
before the “Karpat” match, the song with the refrain “Raise the banner from
battle to battle, Ukrainian rebel, never retreat!” came from the loudspeakers.
Among the supporters, there were boys with hoodies and Nazi runes on their
chests, having chosen for themselves the emblem of the punitive battalion Azov.
The “Karpat” players
come to the match in white and green uniforms, but the kids leading the players
by the hand onto the field are all in red and back uniforms symbolizing respect
for UPA. The red and black flags of UPA appear repeatedly around the perimeter
of the stadium. Fans are chanting slowly and reluctantly the standard set of
anti-Russian chants.
With special
enthusiasm, “Karpat’s” fans chant “Beat the Moskal! Beat the Moskal! Beat the
Moskal! Stack the corpses! With gun in hand, get a new award!”
Fans also repeatedly
screamed “Russian whore!” and “Bandera, Shukhevich – heroes of Ukraine!” It’s
funny to watch how 70 year-old grandfathers, who already can’t walk, start to
imitate jumping with the scream “He who doesn’t jump is a Moskal!”
The “Karpat” fans look
unpresentable, as I remember from the early ’90’s. Practically invisible are
people dressed neatly and stylishly, but horrifically dressed people full of
bitterness from empty pockets and chronic malnutrition are visible. It is as if
the Paris slums from Celine’s novels have filled Lvov.
In all stores, cafe,
and shops, there is a box for collecting cash to aid participants of the
Anti-Terrorist Operation.
Lvov’s residents don’t
seem to get the connection: tossing a hryvnia into a box for war puts your
relative, friend, or acquaintance into a coffin.
References here and
there to the “heavenly hundreds” quickly becomes disgusting. All and
sundry mentions the “heavenly hundreds.” The “heavenly hundreds” are mentioned
on posters for ballet performances and announcements of food-tasting parties.
In memory of the “heavenly hundreds,” dozens of novels, short stories, and
essays, have already been released. Books on the “heavenly hundred” cram the
shelves of second-hand bookshops.
The city abounds with
beggars. Surely, someone has already asked for giving alms as if he is the son
of a murdered member of the “heavenly hundred,” just as earlier they asked as
“sons” of Lieutenant Schmidt. I avoided beggars.
There was only one
pleasant surprise: I heard Russian more than I expected. Restaurant visitors
and strolling tourists speak in Russian, and all of their conversations boil
down to politics.
Derogatory images with
the face of Vladimir Putin fill the city center in restaurant windows and on
art-gallery signs.
Bars brag of having an
alcoholic cocktail “Putin’s blood.” I’m not going to quote all the offenses
hurled at the President of the Russian Federation, but I believe that Lvov has
no right to call itself the cultural capital of Ukraine or a European city.
Lvov residents
demonstrate the level of culture of those who author the propaganda posters
everywhere. This is barbarism from the middle ages and has nothing to do with
modern civilization.
Ukrainian media loves
to write that “in fact, there are no Banderites.” In fact, everywhere is full
of Banderites, and they can be easily spotted by their Trident starter
kits. A lot of men walk around Lvov in camouflage uniforms with the
stripes of all sort of punitive battalions. Apparently, this is a fashion trend
and they want to impress girls…
Lvov has been struck
with the plague of Nazism. It is very difficult to stay sane here living in
such an environment.
Today, Lvov is a city
of fascist madness, where white is black and vice versa. A volunteer rode up to
me on roller skates and demanded me to throw a couple bills into a box with the
inscription “Ukraine is at war! Help her!”
I didn’t give her
anything, but those who sat on nearby benches willingly opened their purses and
threw hryvnia into the box. People who want peace would not sponsor war out of
their pockets, but, alas, this thought is incomprehensible to Lvov residents
today.
“We will hang you and
bury you”
Vsevolod Nepogodin.
(Please Note The Views and Opinions
Expressed in this Article are Not Representative of Western Truth TV (WTTV),
WTTV Management, or the Founder Sean Davis)
They are the soul
views of the Author of the Article
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