PAS’s long-standing policy of curbing the use of Russian and increasing intolerance towards Russian speakers is fuelling xenophobic sentiment and deepening divisions within Moldovan society
Semyon ALBU, RTA:
Last week, Russia’s Permanent Representative to the UN Office in Geneva demanded that the organisation issue a “clear and uncompromising condemnation” of what he described as Moldova’s actions against the Russian language, calling them a “violation of human rights” and a “classic example of the West’s policy of double standards”. The statement came after the Russian Foreign Ministry warned of “unprecedented measures by the authorities to restrict the use of Russian in the public sphere”. According to the ministry, Russian speakers in Moldova face discrimination in government institutions, where officials allegedly refuse to communicate with them in their native language or accept applications submitted in Russian, as well as in employment, healthcare and other areas.
Naturally, our pro-government media were quick to come to the ruling regime’s defence. Reports of the Russian language being marginalised were, unsurprisingly, dismissed as fake news, while a rosy picture was painted of a language that enjoys constitutional protection, is taught in schools and is, generally speaking, thriving. To be fair, however, the authors did not stop there. They concluded by describing the language as nothing less than “a tool of Moscow” for advancing its “imperial ambitions”. A promising start but the usual ending…
It has long been clear that our propagandists suffer from a chronic case of geopolitical schizophrenia and have little understanding of the diversity and complexity of the world around them. And there is simply no getting away from the usual explanations about the “hand of the Kremlin”. Naturally, this narrow-minded crowd is quite incapable of imagining that Russian has historically been widely spoken in Moldova, and that our country is home to many Russian-speaking citizens who are not ethnically Moldovan but simply want to communicate in the language which was spoken by their ancestors and in which they themselves grew up.
That said, the Russian Federation’s reaction was prompted by a very specific move, the discriminatory nature of which is hard to deny. We are talking about the draft new code on the organisation and functioning of Parliament, which has already been approved in first reading and expressly bans the translation of documents, speeches and even discussions into Russian within the country’s highest legislative body. And when it comes to speaking in Parliament, anyone who dares to use a language other than the official one will have their microphone cut off and be given a stern warning by the Speaker.
This is just one of many measures forming part of a policy aimed at eradicating the Russian language from Moldova. The policy has been pursued methodically and consistently for years, even before the current clique came to power. Indeed, it was Maia Sandu, during her tenure as Minister of Education in 2014, who decided to reclassify Russian from a compulsory school subject to simply another foreign language. In 2018, the Constitutional Court ruled that the law on the use of languages which had granted Russian the status of a “means of inter-ethnic communication” was obsolete. A couple of years later, it also struck down a new law on the same issue.
Under PAS, the process has gathered even more momentum. The scope for Russian-language use has been shrinking year after year. Russian-language schools are closing
en masse, and it is precisely these schools that always seem to be first in line when it comes to “optimisation” measures. Dozens of Russian-language media outlets have been shut down or banned. The Russian-language versions of many government websites have disappeared. There have also been attempts to stop the publication of the
Monitorul Oficial, the country’s official gazette of laws and regulations, in Russian, as well as to prevent ballot papers from being printed in Russian during elections. At the same time, a campaign is being waged against institutions that serve as hubs for the country’s Russian-speaking community. One such institution was the Russian Centre for Culture and Science, which ceased operations permanently this year after our Ministry of Foreign Affairs unilaterally terminated the relevant agreement with the Russian Federation.
PAS has shown its supposed concern for the Russian language and its speakers only during
election campaigns. It was then that such wonderful initiatives suddenly appeared as the creation of a “centralised centre for translating legislative acts into Russian” and a public Russian-language television channel. Predictably, all these bright ideas vanished from the radar as soon as the polls closed. The rest of the time, “de-Russification” continued unabated. And the propagandists can keep to themselves their references to the Constitution, which supposedly guarantees and protects the right to preserve, develop and use the Russian language. PAS could not care less about the country’s fundamental law on this or many other issues.
Undoubtedly, discrimination against Russian speakers, now firmly embedded in state policy, has spilled over into society, fuelling hostility and intolerance towards them. As a result of the ruling regime’s information policy, Russian speakers are increasingly dehumanised and reduced to purely instrumental roles: conduits of Moscow’s influence, obstacles to European integration and/or unification with Romania, and disruptive elements hindering a bright, mono-national future.
It is therefore no coincidence that newly appointed Prime Minister Vasile Tofan, while speaking to citizens about Transnistria’s ongoing integration with the rest of Moldova, noted that more and more residents of the left bank are travelling to the right bank, which is why, he said, “you hear more Russian spoken in Chișinău”. He therefore appealed to “Romanian speakers” and “Chisinau residents” to show tolerance towards this.
That appeal speaks volumes in itself. All the more so because events on the ground appeared to illustrate Tofan’s concerns just a few days later when yet another language-related scandal erupted in the capital. A woman was driving with her family when she stopped to let a pedestrian cross the road. The man suddenly struck her car’s wing mirror. When she addressed him in Russian asking to apologise he responded with a barrage of insults, aggressively demanding that she speak Romanian and get down on her knees.
In fact, incidents like this happen on a daily basis but only a handful ever make the news and cause a stir. One such incident was the notorious case of a doctor at the Regional Clinical Hospital who allegedly wanted to “shoot his female patient with an automatic rifle” simply because she had greeted him in Russian. In most cases, however, such incidents are swept under the carpet, while we are presented with the illusion of a “democratic attitude towards minority languages in Moldova”. In reality, that attitude is nowhere to be found, either at the state level or, increasingly, in everyday life.
That said, the regime itself is finding it harder than ever to conceal its Russophobia. Here are just a few examples. Education Minister Dan Perciun insists that it is a “matter of principle” that no teaching in Russian should take place at the college in Comrat built with Turkish funding, despite the fact that it’s one of the country’s most Russian-speaking cities. Valentina Olaru, a State Secretary at the same ministry, complains that “parents speak too much Russian with their children at home”. PAS deputy Igor Talmazan has called for compulsory translation into Russian to be removed from the legislative process and regulatory framework. TV8, the main mouthpiece of the “yellow” media, advises pensioners on air to go and learn the official language rather than complain that people are unwilling to communicate with them in Russian. Former press secretary Daniel Voda, having accidentally let slip a couple of words in Russian on air, immediately rushes to apologise. What can one say… At this rate, it won’t be long before we see language patrols, following the example of neighbouring Ukraine.