Old Novos Set the Challenge

Old Novos set the challenge to venturing pupils

ONA Awards History Essay Prize How the Russians Choose to Remember their History

Rory Allan (U6)

The ONA Vice President Adam Goldwater (87-97) explains the thinking behind ONA’s new award scheme:

I was very interested to hear about the (second) Sixth Form visit to Russia and how thought-provoking the experience was for those 44 students who ventured to St Petersburg and Moscow. It seemed a perfect opportunity for the Old Novocastrians’ Association to work with the RGS History Department on a new award scheme.

I’ve always been fascinated by Russian history, from when I studied it at RGS, but never visited Russia to experience it first hand, and to be honest never really had the desire to travel there... until now. Everything I’ve ever learnt about Russia is from books, from other people’s experiences, perspectives and views. It got me thinking about how everyday in my profession, (the museum, gallery and heritage sector) we’re not just communicating facts and information about objects, paintings, and archaeological treasures in our care. We’re trying to give people an insight into those artefacts and historical places through inspiring stories –to inspire people to find out more. Iwanted to set about challenging the pupils who went on the trip to share their experience – to write a short piece for the ONA to judge about what most struck them about their visit to Russia. This wasn’t to be judged simply as academic writing; we were looking for inspiration, prescience and insight that might be associated with high quality feature reportage. They were asked to submit an article with the title How the Russians Choose to Remember their History. Four entries received prizes, and the winning entry by Rory Allan is printed opposite. I found it very thought provoking and enjoyable to read. The ONA is delighted to be working with the History department and looks forward to extending the award scheme to other trips in the future. One cannot visit both Moscow and St. Petersburg and not be struck by how vastly different each city is. The chillingly ubiquitous concrete facades of former ministerial buildings and the somewhat grim outlines of apartment block after apartment block litter the skyline of Moscow. The city encapsulates all too well the communism that dominated it for nearly seventy years; the sickle and hammer is emblazoned over the entrances of buildings, in the various metro stations and even cast into the finery of street lamps. Only the occasional palatial grandeur of the assorted ‘Museums of Modern History’ that further chronicle the hold communism had on this place provide any insight into the pre-revolutionary life of Moscow.

St. Petersburg, on the other hand, is a startling and somewhat irreverent antithesis to the monotony of Moscow’s communist apparel; it wears an altogether more regal garment. The hundreds of palaces casually nestled on almost every street reflect the opulence that characterised the life of Russia’s elite in the Tsarist era. It forsakes its ‘Museum of Modern History’ for the inconceivable extravagance of the Winter Palace, the Exhibition of Vodka and the rather unexpected Museum of Pickled Monsters (a personal collection of Peter the Great). Here the legacy of the Tsars lives on –an omnipresent magnificence that cannot be replicated in any other city.

But enough about the architecture, it is what isencapsulated in that architecture that is interesting. For beneath the concrete blocks ofMoscow and the ornate marble pillars of St.Petersburg there is a fundamental difference in the attitudes of the cities’ inhabitants and, more importantly, a difference in how they remember their pasts. It is a difference forged by their individual city-histories that leads them to view what Russia is and was in quite separate lights. Theantithesis of Tsarist Russia and the USSR is both responsible for and reflected in the antithesis of Moscow and St. Petersburg. Both cities were the seats of two very different governments; both cities have been moulded by them and the effect upon their populations is remarkable. In Moscow our tour guide, asurgically informative but slightly scary woman called Tatyana, would proudly tell anyone who listened of the various successes of Nikita Khrushchev: ‘the great Soviet reformer and statesman’ was her tribute to him at his graveside in the Novodevichy Cemetery. When a member of the audience ventured to point out he was also responsible for bringing the world to the brink of nuclear war, she simply glared and ignored the comment. Indeed, the various accounts we received of the 1917 October Revolution characterised the Bolsheviks as liberaters and the Tsars as cruel and tyrannical oppressors. The Museums we visited seemed to almost wantonly ignore the darker side of the USSR’s history, the Great Terror of the Stalinist regime, the Gulags, the Cuban Missile Crisis – all were either omitted or only fleetingly referred to.

However, just as Moscow was shaped by the Communist government, so was St. Petersburg by the Tsarist rule. The Revolution, far from glorified, is keenly remembered for its more lethal consequences; a side chapel of the Peter and Paul Cathedral containing the tombs of NicholasII and his family serve as a tragically poignant reminder of this. Just like the inhabitants of Moscow, the people of St. Petersburg are proud of their cultural heritage, proud of their Tsars who built great palaces, great cathedrals and the great Hermitage Museum. Rather than oppressors, they are seen as cultural innovators.

This, then, is surely how the Russians choose to remember their history, not as a nation but as a city; not as citizens of Russia, but as citizens of Moscow or St. Petersburg. In each city one cannot help but be drawn into their chosen historical sphere, the influence of the USSR or Pre-Revolutionary Russia exudes from every part of the cities; from the buildings to the inhabitants of them to the very culture itself and it part of what makes Russia as a country so richly diverse and culturally intriguing.

Hindmarch!

‘Hindmarch!’ ‘Yes Sir.’ ‘Is that your homework?’ ‘No Sir, ‘afraid I left it at home.’ ‘Hindmarch, how long is it now since I asked for it?’ ‘Fifty years, coming up, Sir.’ ‘Well, let’s hear your latest excuses but before you start, how did they pick that nickname, Horace, for you?’ ‘Easy Sir, it’s my initials RS…Horace.’ ‘Ever heard it since the last time you were here?’ ‘Only once Sir. London ’68 in front of the Law Courts from Rutherford in his gown bounding up the steps and past me with a ‘Hello Horace, keeping well?’ never since, Sir.’ ‘What’s your excuse this time?’ ‘Been swotting Sir, on trying to do better.’ ‘And not far, I suppose, with ‘poor’ against Geography?’ ‘No Sir, only thirty countries, not enjoying myself, just working a bit.’ ‘Foreign languages were not your subjects, Hindmarch.’ ‘No Sir, but I learnt to ask for two beers in fifteen of them, Sir. It helps to remember the endings, like Latin, Sir, or you only get one. Not asked for any in five years now as it brings on my allergy, Sir.’ ‘Dropped Latin, didn't you Hindmarch?’ ‘Yes Sir, but Bibendum was the College mascot, so I didn’t feel I had dropped it completely, Sir. ’ ‘I remember seeing, Non-U, against your name posted in the Common Room; squeeze into a Redbrick eventually, did you. How?’ ‘Yes Sir, one of the Governors gave me a Scholarship, absolute Godsend, just like a Bursary, Sir. Would never have made it without. Meant I could swot all the time, not work behind the bar and go on skiing and rugger trips. ‘Don’t expect it was History or Natural Sciences?’ ‘No Sir, History I only remember as Monty coming to Speech Day, talking 22 minutes and some seconds on Rommel in the war and me not winning the Prefect’s sweep, Sir. Zoology, I’ve nearly stepped on a rattlesnake.’ ‘What was it then that you struggled through?’ ‘Polymer Science and Technology, Sir. Not real Pure Science that we were to aim for, like using isotopes to take those photos of leaves in the Chemistry Lab.’ ‘And where did those Polymers take your brain and body to, Hindmarch?’ ‘Pretty well everywhere, Sir, from knicker elastic to Haldron; rubber plantations to nuclear submarines; milking parlour to Embassy; copydex in kids hair to forensics on homicides; slipping and sliding to fatal explosions; one to one teach in to conference performances; air crash investigations to ten patented processes; golf balls, oil platforms, weapons, medical operating theatres, stealth, half a tonne of cocaine sting…want to try to catch me out Sir?’ ‘Just two questions, Hindmarch. Are you still fussy about food as I heard you would not eat mustard without something to go with it?' ‘No Sir, that was Robson on the train to White City. Ethiopia has quite good locusts and the cicadas in China, these days, are best deep fried rather than in noodles.’ ‘And why did you come back after fifty years?’ ‘I just wanted to come and thank the ghosts, like you Sir, that took so much time and effort to rub School off on me, even though I did not know it at the time, or indeed for a long time after… and even the Latin… Discendo Duces.’ ‘Bye Sir. Oh! Can I join the ghost club, one day and sorry about the homework, I’ll try and do it for next time.’

Horace (RS) Hindmarch (48-59)