Perspective

First published in The School of Russian
and Asian Studies Newsletter
WHY THIS COLD PEACE?
By Jeannie Ferber

After almost a decade of living and working in Russian villages, there are three questions that haunt us. First, how was the enormity of good that can be found in these villages so successfully hidden from Americans during the Cold War? Second, how was the good that can be found in America hidden from Russians? Third, what haven't we learned in the last decade--given all we could accomplish together and haven't?

When opinions swirl as to who, or what, is to blame for the present state of "non-relations" between our countries (the "Cold Peace" as many now call it), we turn back to our experience to keep from being discouraged. Our efforts to get people in America and Russia working together are neither political, commercial, nor religious. We work together at life itself. And it is the good we have experienced together that has given us the conviction that there is much our nations can achieve side-by-side.

We believe our countries have accomplished far less than they could have in the last decade because, while incredible amounts of money and effort have been put into building commercial ties, an equal amount of effort has not been given to establishing relations that are sympathetic and humane. Until we earn each other's trust, let us work at giving each other a bit of humanity. It is sharing the best of life – the things that feed the soul which Russians so dearly love – that create bonds that outlast the disagreements and differences. As Desmond Tutu said at the founding ceremony of The Elders, "Despite all the ghastliness that is around, human beings are made for goodness."

While our work in Russia began by putting new books into village school libraries, it was obvious that much more could be done –even by an organization as small as ours. We realized that if our work was to have an effect, we had to give a voice and a face to the good our respective countries have to offer so that we would not become enemies once again by an ignorance, or denial, of that good. The point is not just to avoid another Cold War. It is to stop losing the good. Tapping into the good has allowed our organization to accomplish all that it has. Drawing on the good has gone farther than the money in our bank account could, and has produced results that have been more far reaching than anything we could have planned.

Take this one experience for example: for years a small television station in Ekaterinburg asked if it could do a human interest story on my love for the villages. Year after year we agreed simply because it was clear they were after something purely innocent and good. Finally, two years ago when Zhenya finished directing the clips of me milking the cows and weeding the potato patch, she announced that they wanted to end the story with something more serious. Would I type some short message on our laptop "to the Russian people?" As the camera filmed away, we all understood that such are the opportunities that can make a difference. Some two months after the story aired, Nikolai's phone began ringing off the hook one day from friends not only in the Urals, but in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Surgut, Belograd and Blagoveshchensk in the Far East. The story had been somehow discovered by Первый Канал (Channel 1) and aired two consecutive weeks on nationwide television.

A similar opportunity happened again this year, but under very different circumstances. On arriving in Russia this fall I was, for whatever reason, conscious of how the ill-will toward America had grown over my years of working in Russia. The fact that a positive view of the U.S. rarely appears on the news was inevitably bound to have a cumlative effect but, nonetheless, the unfortunate comments about America that were popping up in conversations were a sad, new phenomenon. It was clear that the increasingly negative relations between our governments—a tendency I had previously viewed as merely a political problem—was more than that. It was beginning to replace my friends' first hand knowledge of the good with the narrowest views of America. Thus, the following opportunity meant much to us for the sheer normalcy and thoughtfulness it represented.

Our work this time was to launch several projects in commemoration of the 200th anniversary of diplomatic ties between Russia and the United States. In conjunction with those projects, we were approached by Tелеканал Евразия (Television Eurasia) in Pervouralsk, asking if I would be willing to be the guest on a live half-hour talk show called "Здравый Смысл" or "Common Sense." The first half was to be a discussion with the host and the second half, fielding questions from viewers. We agreed but, given the more strained political atmosphere, I asked if I could talk with the host before the show began. In that short time together I appealed to the good in him. And like any normal person, he responded. The entire show dealt with genuinely thoughtful issues. When I returned to the U.S. and watched a tape of the program, I was even more amazed at the generosity of spirit that had been expressed by both the host and the viewers calling in. Very briefly, for instance, I was asked what three elements I considered essential to American society? My answer touched on the strengths of democracy, freedom, and religion. Were those things essential to Russian society, the host continued? They were needed to preserve a higher humanity, I replied, and were not dependent on nationality. Even his questions about the great differences between our countries were not contentious. It gave the opportunity to suggest that it would be a mistake to count the differences as being more important than the good we can know together. At that point the discussion was no longer formal. He was clearly interested in the questions he was asking. "Can knowing the good of each other really make a difference? Do you really feel that can outweigh political strife?"

The obvious "yes" to those questions was also the answer as to why we, personally, need to take care of our relations with other nations. If we do not build those relations, politics will build them for us. There is a freedom that ordinary people have that neither politicians nor businessmen have — for they are under constant pressure to show immediate results and most often work within strained contexts. Relationships formed by ordinary people can arise from a pure desire to know one another. Even more, there is an equality to such relations. Both sides recognize they can enrich the other--and it is such relations that have long preserved our humanity even in the midst of political strife.

This was powerfully shown to me in the home I was given several years ago in Mycy, a village in the Kirov region where we had done our first library project. The real reason, we could only assume, for the amazing gift, was not for what we had done, but how we had done it. We had come and gone quickly, without fanfare, press coverage, or speeches. However, following the library project we patiently worked to build bridges between students and families here and there; bridges that allowed both sides to give.

The home in Mycy, while presented to me, was obviously the villagers' only way to give it to all who had helped make our work possible. The residents knew that the home was nothing compared to what most Americans live in, but they nonetheless did all they could, scrubbing the floors, filling the rooms with furniture from their attics, and hanging fresh curtains in the windows. Yet the home wasn't their real gift. The real gift was the friendship and trust they were extending to Americans, who would then always have a place to stay in the small village.

The times I've spent in Myсy have changed me for life – so touched have I been by the deep understanding of life I have found there. Yet until we begin to value the things that money cannot buy, the wisdom, integrity, and unselfishness with which we help each other live better lives, we will have little motivation to seek what Russia, and other nations, have to give us.

Perhaps no American has done more in bringing this point to light than Greg Mortenson in his book Three Cups of Tea. He states that you have to have time for the third cup of tea in human relations – and an understanding of why that third cup is so vital. If a lack of recognition of what Russia has to give us has hindered our nations' success in working together, it is not just an ignorance of the talents to be found there. It is an ignorance of the worth of the relationship itself. As President Dwight Eisenhower once said, "If we are going to take advantage of the assumption that all people want peace, then the problem is for people to get together and to lead governments – if necessary to evade governments – to work out not one method but thousands of methods by which people can gradually learn a little bit more of each other."

For the sake of anticipating the question, "What specifically can Russia give us?" I will list a few specifics. However, such lists are ultimately as lifeless as answering what Bach gave to the world with a typed list of sonatas.

We could benefit from learning more about the high level of education in Russia and how they generally breed such a love of learning in children. Also, the Russian tradition of respect would greatly enrich our society, from improving family relations, to teacher-student relations and business relations. The Russian respect for elders, in particular, and the care family members give to elders is enviable. When extended families live under one roof it is not without challenges, but from that comes an added dignity to society. Young people learn from the experience of their grandparents, while giving their grandparents a real sense of life and purpose. Inseparable from that respect, is the Russian ability to use direct language without offending each other. That quality does much to avoid deception and misunderstanding.

The contributions of Russian authors, artists and musicians have long left their mark on the world. Far less known are Russia's Halls of Culture. They are the pride not only of big cities, but the smallest villages, having long supplied communities with the best of Russian and western art. Seeing these Halls of Culture has brought the most reaction from American audiences viewing our new documentary. People have been taken aback that such cultural heights were nurtured under communism. While the Halls of Culture were clearly designed to win the people's devotion, they nonetheless produced a society that understood the elevating influence and necessity of literature, theatre, music, and art.

We have no desire to convince anyone of anything. Our work is merely to share the good we have met on every journey and at every turn. The point is not to take lightly the role you can play in tapping into the good and making it known. People unfamiliar with a Russia other than that of stereotypes and political propaganda will go on assuming that our countries cannot work together. Despite the atrocities that were committed under communism, and the tragedies that have been justified in the name of democracy, is there not immense wisdom in making the good of nations known so that the good may be strengthened and the evil disdained? The point dawns slowly that there is no life without the good, and until we discover the good, we do not truly know life or one another. And that is the only reason for this Cold Peace.

DON’T LET POLITICAL CORRUPTION WHOLLY DEFINE A COUNTRY
By Jeannie Ferber and Nikolai Arzhannikov
Alton, NH and Moscow, Russia

     Parliamentary elections in early December made even clearer Russia’s lack of democracy and brought forth a wave of words—only a few of which, however, were truly insightful. Most of the commentary was understandably disdainful. Yet, if we are not alert, such words will once again come to shape our impressions of the country as a whole, rather than describing dishonest political practices. There are few Americans who would feel it was possible to know America, or who would want the world's views of it shaped, by one administration, as if the lives and learning, the talents, accomplishments, and qualities of the people as a whole meant little or nothing.
    In seeing the broader picture in Russia there is still something to work with. And it is the only practical way to renew our expectations and find reasons to work together. We need to work together, for the simple reason our world suffers when we don’t. Thus we need to allow the bigger picture, along with political trends, to shape our views and understanding of the country.
    The time has not come for us to cease pursuing the good of Russia. Such a pursuit not only promotes genuine peace but, in honoring the good, the worst can be exposed without allowing it to define a country as a whole. While our organization’s work began nearly a decade ago by supplying village schools with hundreds of new books, it became clear that more could be done by giving a voice to the good of our countries, that enemies be not made once again by an ignorance, or denial, of that good. We have been repeatedly interviewed on Russian television and in newspapers, and have been free to bring the discussion to the highest levels. It has left a marked impression on us of the freedom we still have to inspire one another and lift up the good.
    We can do much more than we suppose with words that inspire right actions, rather than falling back into the language of stereotypes and propaganda. Words are no respecter of persons. They can be employed to good effect not only by politicians, but by simple people. When the words inspire, nations, like individuals, respond.   Those who will never travel to Russia rely on the words of others who know this complex and valuable country firsthand. As words are used to expose the worst, let them be used to promote the talents and integrity that are there to be found. The result will not only be our ability to accomplish more together, but such words will bring a balance to politics and news reporting, and be closer to the truth.

Jeannie Ferber and Nikolai Arzhannikov are co-founders of Access to Ideas. Arzhannikov was a Duma member under President Yeltsin and founder of the Committee for Human Rights. Ferber is a writer in addition to her work in Russia.

From Cold War to Cold Peace
America Abroad Radio
Excerpt by Dmitri Trenin, Deputy Director at the Carnegie Moscow Center
To hear the full program please go to:
http://www.americaabroadmedia.org/FromColdWartoColdPeace.html

I think that the relationship [between the U.S. and Russia] will get somewhat worse in the year or so ahead. But then I think that the new Russian leadership will be interested in establishing a working relationship with the United States and the new U.S. leadership will be interested in establishing working relationships with the major powers around the world. So I can see some points of convergence. There's no fundamental conflict between Russia and the United States; nor is there going to be one. There's a lot of bad feelings. The atmospherics are terrible, but there's no conflict.

CHANGING RELATIONS
By Jeannie Ferber and Nikolai Arzhannikov
Alton, NH and Moscow, Russia
Note: December 13, 2007 marked the 200th anniversary of diplomatic ties
between the U.S. and Russia.

Ideally, diplomacy appeals to the highest qualities in mankind: dignity, integrity, patience, restraint. Too often, however, diplomacy has abandoned its strength to gain advantage in the name of national interest, pursuing its own interests, rather than seeking the well being of all. Yet history and moral courage are more convincing. When the interests of one are put above the well being of another, that is neither normal nor noble, and has never, in the long run, improved security or the world’s well being.
    There is reason to believe that in the coming years diplomatic relations between our countries will face their severest test in their long history. It will be a test of whether we will continue to compete with each other, or will rise to higher ground and work together—something that Russia has repeatedly said it wants. Yet, material prosperity sadly falls prey to pride, and the feeling that a strong nation does not need the help or experience of others. Added now to America’s prosperity, is the rapidly rising prosperity of Russia. Yet, it is still within our power to use our strengths and prosperity to accomplish much good in the world—not the least of which is the stability that would result from working together.
    The hundreds of people who daily fly between our countries know a Russia and America that include what is reported on the news—but vastly more. The great need now is for a diplomacy, and a relationship, built on that “more”. David Broder, long time Washington Post political columnist, astutely observed that as much as the news tries to reflect reality, it always distorts it by the act of compression.
    The lives, experiences, and voices of ordinary people are the “un-compression” and can bring broader and more useful views of our nations to light. Put another way, our world can no longer afford to be shaped by politics, at the expense of hiding the enormity of good that clearly lies within the nations of our world. The humane and sympathetic relations that ordinary people can nurture and develop between nations is not unrealistic. It is such relations that have long preserved our humanity in the midst of political strife. There is no reason for them not to become primary.
    The genius and strength of ordinary relationships is that they have an inherent equality to them. Both sides recognize they can enrich the other.   Clearly, it is easier to do business, or even charitable works, than to build relationships between people. Yet, such relationships are the means of discovering the good in one another—the only commodity with which we can earn each other’s trust. Without knowing the good, we will go on assuming that our countries cannot work together. While the efforts of ordinary people to work together, and understand one another, does not condone or ignore the gross shortcomings of national or political actions, neither is good obligated to remain silent or inactive before injustice. And never should it be written off as merely “nice,” but ineffective. Indeed, it is the smallest acts of good that most defy the apparent enormity of darkness and evil.
    In 2004 our organization launched a project that builds “phone bridges” between people in the U.S. and Russia. In 2005 we built such a bridge between children in New England and Grozny, Chechnya—children who had been raised under the horrors of war. If they were to know any other life, they needed to be given a glimpse of peace, a glimpse that we believed could be achieved even in a simple phone conversation between children showing empathy and interest in each other. After the bridge, the Chechen children were interviewed on television. We later learned that it was the first positive news cast about America in ten years in that region.
    It is time for relations between nations to achieve something both deeper and broader. There is no reason why common humanity cannot take hold of its strength and be stronger and wiser than all that would divide us.

Jeannie Ferber and Nikolai Arzhannikov are co-founders of Access to Ideas. Arzhannikov was a Duma member under President Yeltsin and founder of the Committee for Human Rights. Ferber is a writer in addition to her work in Russia.

Russia's oil riches will continue to affect life within the country and Russia's position in the world. The oil boom has already filled large cities with Mercedes and SUVs, high end shops, and the ultimate in electronic gadgetry. Cities like Tomsk, let alone Moscow and St. Petersburg, are now being compared in wealth and elegance to cities anywhere in Europe. Tomsk alone has ten universities and institutes, many of which have oil companies to thank for their beautiful campuses and stellar programs. Articles like the following Reuters article are worth paying attention to.
http://www.reuters.com/article/worldNews/idUSL1947177620080107

The idea of having websites that look for the good in each other reminds me of the starfish story. It's one of those stories that, no matter how many times you stumble on it, you're glad you did. I share it in the hope of reassuring others that, being reminded of the good in our world does make a difference. Remembering the good, saves it. In my own travels to Russia (participating in programs in which professional nurses and doctors share practical knowledge with each other) I saw more than a little evidence of the kindness and generosity of the Russian people who, like us, want to work together. As a nurse, I know it is caring for the good that gives us life.

The story goes like this. There was a young man walking along the beach one day where literally dozens of starfish lay dying in the sun because they had been stranded by the outgoing tide. In the midst of all these starfish was a little girl painstakingly picking up one after another and throwing it back into the ocean. When he caught up with her he said, "Why are you going to so much trouble to save a few starfish? What difference does it make?!" With that, the little girl bent over and picked up another starfish and threw it back into the water. "It made a difference to that one . . . ." she answered quietly. The man went on his way saying nothing. But every now and then he bent over and threw a starfish into the ocean.

It is being called the most talked-about art exhibition in London in years, "a source of incredible joy". On both the British and Russian sides, all those involved in bringing $2 billion worth of masterpieces from Moscow and St. Petersburg to London, have voiced a common yearning: to allow art to have transcendence over politics. Historically, art has played the role of appealing to the spirit in man. It is that spirit that is higher than nationalities and lifts us silently above them.
    To read about the exhibit and see video footage go:

http://www.russiatoday.ru/entertainment/news/20107
http://www.russiatoday.ru/entertainment/news/20107/video

    In this same vein, Russian Yuri Bashmet is considered one of the world's most talented and moving viola players in the world and has brought his gift to every major city in the world.
    There are any number of clips of his playing on YouTube. Here is just one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkS5sWtP9ZM

We received this letter recently in response to a question we posed to various friends. We asked them how we could improve the work of Access to Ideas and make it more effective. This letter in response, written by Peter Hagerty of Peace Fleece, is published with his permission. Peace Fleece was a pioneer in establishing normal, humane relations between the peoples of our countries at the height of the Cold War. We hope you find his thoughts and ideas as valuable as we did.

Our last trip to Russia in September affirmed my belief that the little victories are what matter. Gorbachev and Reagan were dragged to the summit table by thousands of citizen diplomats who, each in their own way, shared a book, shared a stitch, shared a cup of tea with their imagined enemy and they, not the politicians, collectively averted nuclear war. Each one of those Russians and Americans reached their own tipping point. For some that meant simply sitting down next to a foreigner on a park bench and beginning some form of rudimentary conversation. For others it meant flying half way around the world. But it was these small steps that made the ultimate difference between global life and death.

I mention this because of your statement about "needing to find ways to increase our appreciation of one another". Maybe I am reading this incorrectly but if you are saying, "If we could just do more, reach more people each day" then I respectfully suggest that you reaffirm the powerful work you are doing today and not be wooed by the siren song, "If there were just more hours in the day, more people believing what I believe". My father would admonish these songs with, "Do what you do, do it well, and the rest will take care of itself."

I have had recent conversations with my son about where both he and I are going in our lives. My son Silas is a new believer in the power of being "present" with people. I have learned a lot from both my children over the past few years. Silas decided sometime last year to stop drinking alcohol because it made him less present with the people around him. And he feels that the greatest gift you can give someone is your total presence. So last March I stopped drinking—a bold move for a 100% Irishman. What I have learned over the last few months is that I allow a myriad of distracting voices to occupy my conscience. There is the voice that "I have not done enough today, that I deserve to be heard, that I do not have enough time, that if I were in charge things would be better." And these voices get in the way of my being present with the person I am with at any given moment. I allow these voices to compromise the quality of our exchange. My challenge now is to understand these voices, to manage them in such a way as they give me strength so I can be more present in the moment.

I also recently read a book by a man who has traveled the world interviewing folks who have devoted their lives to prayer. From the Tibetan steppes to the Sinai, each prayer person had the same reply when asked what they prayed for. "I do not pray for anything" they said. "My prayer is a vision of a Chinese soldier and a Tibetan lama laughing over a cup of tea laced with yak butter; of an Israeli and Palestinian father playing soccer together with their daughters on a beach in the Gaza. I do not use the images of war or violence in my vision because to do that would be to give it life. So it is not present in my conscience. I deny it life."

So here is my suggestion because I have been invited to do so in the last paragraph of your letter and I am honored to have been asked. I would not focus on or use the negative words or visions of "propaganda" and the negative role of the news because first of all most people that are visiting your website already know this. Most feel powerless to change this reality. Offer them things that they can actually do to effect positive change. There is also an implication that they—the propaganda and news moguls—are the enemy. If there is an enemy, then it is within us, it is our inability to act joyously in the face of darkness and overcome it with our own light.

Celebrate goodness over adversity by telling your story over and over, with your beautiful photos and text. Don't be distracted by the voices that say by reaching a larger audience you will be more effective. You and Nikolai, and the folks at Brewster Academy with whom you work, and all those from Access to Ideas are on the right path. Continue to believe in the "resilience of the human spirit" and the rest will take care of itself.

Reading this over I am conscious of an arrogant overtone that comes through, as if I know what I am talking about—that I am walking the walk, etc. Of course that is not the case. Although I, too, am struck with despair at least once a day, my recovery time is growing shorter. In any case —

As the billowy clouds slipped beneath the wings of the plane, the Russian countryside slipped farther and farther away. The afternoon sun had slid off the tops of the Ural Mountains and turned the fields golden. Rivers wound their way around tufts of homes huddled together against the coming winter, while smoke floated lazily above the banya chimneys. For a few moments, the scene below was convincingly serene—a gentle landscape dotted with villages curled up like cats napping.
   Village life, in fact, is anything but idyllic or serene. The amount of work is grueling, as is the endless task of keeping everything, including yourself, clean. There are the rewards of magnificently fresh meals that shame their city counterparts poured out of cans, packets, and cartons. There is the peace of weeks without the sound, sight, or smell of traffic. There is a genuineness to life, as well as a closeness and caring for one another that drove people like Gandhi back to the more civilized, as he counted it, countryside.
   Yet, the unequivocal custom of speaking your mind is one aspect of Russian village life I’ve never quite become accustomed to. For years I winced every time words flew back and forth between family or friends. Five minutes later I’d look again to see everyone laughing and slapping each other on the back. Only slowly did I come to understand the Russian saying, “If you can’t say what you think to a friend, then to whom?” It makes for relationships that, if not polite, are true and strong, without deception or artifice.
   It was Andrei who taught me the secret of not getting hurt. It lies in remembering the words that are worth remembering—and forgetting the ones that aren’t. It is no more complicated, I learned, than throwing out the husks and getting on with cooking the sweet ears of corn. After dinner, who ever comments on the husks?
   I had been quick to judge Andrei the first time I met him. He had been quick to invite me to his home for dinner. I had long thought of him as poor, even as he continued to teach me the meaning of generosity. He had accepted me in Talitsa more than anyone else, in that his warmth was not out of politeness. It came from the simple assumption that someone far from home needs care. I quickly became close to him and his wife Katya.
   Over the years, I’ve come to be treated like a villager and not a guest. I am expected to hold my own in the energetic exchanges, and am trusted to remember only the words that matter. Nonetheless, when the conversation turned to America this year, I never thought I’d hear my friends voice such sentiments. The most stinging comment made everyone pause and momentarily look down. The voice was Andrei’s, but the harshness of the comment was not. Other than the stories Andrei hears on television, he knows virtually nothing about America and will most likely never see it firsthand. The outburst came from a contentious political issue that had been repeated for days on the news. It was obvious that Andrei disliked what he thought to be America. If he knew the real thing he would love it. The awkward moment passed, although I had sadly failed to say something worth remembering.

   On your last day in Russia, all your friends come for tea and to see you off properly. Everyone was talking at once. Grandmother Zoya was asking if I remembered to pack the piroshki (jam filled rolls) she made that morning in case I got hungry? She then gave me a freshly ironed handkerchief. “You can’t go on a journey without a handkerchief!” Anatoly piped up, “Next fall we’ll go mushrooming. I’ll get you your own basket.” Vladimir chimed in, “Don’t forget to give Auntie Buzzie our love. Everyone should have such an aunt!” (She always sends them magical little presents that light up, turn into different things, or surprise you in some way.) There was a pause as we looked at the clock. It was time to go. I turned to take in the warm moment. In the silence Andrei said, “Come back more often.” Everyone nodded.
   He had found the words he wanted us all to remember.
   Now remembering them on the plane, I got out my piroshki and ate them with the juice the stewardess had just given me. They were filled with apricots. The stewardess smiled. “I see you’ve been cared for.”
   “Yes,” I replied gratefully, not only for the piroshki, but for the words Andrei had spoken so sincerely.
   What grace, I thought, that we can remember the words that matter. Unlike a computer that stores and deletes them without understanding a single one, how wonderful that we can let go of the words that hurt and remember the ones that heal. My friends and I have chosen to hold on to the best of each other, despite knowing the worst. It is a view that is neither rose-colored nor mud-stained. It is a view that lies somewhere between the idyllic one from the plane and the one around the crowded little kitchen table. It is a view that makes you in awe of the fact that we were given a whole world in which to live.