Tatarstan: Travel in Multicultural Russia

Of all the images only Russia can create, there is one I will never forget: the four minarets of the new Kul Sharif mosque springing up alongside the onion domes of the Cathedral of Annunciation in the Kazan Kremlin, the historical heart of Tatarstan.

Perhaps the image seemed particularly stunning because it was barely 6 am. We had just gotten off the train that took us from Moscow to Kazan, a 800-km trip, when my photographer and I found ourselves standing in front of the Kazan Kremlin. In that early foggy morning, the capital of Tatarstan, located at the confluence of the Volga and Kama rivers, looked like a fairy tale setting for both the Nutcracker and Aladdin.

The white walls of the Kazan Kremlin, the golden domes of the Cathedral, and the crescent moon of the mosque all shone in the morning sun. An air of quietness, unthinkable in hectic Moscow, covered the city like a warm blanket.

We had come to Kazan to meet the president of Tatarstan, Mintimer Shaymiyev. The Presidential Palace was still asleep when we rang the doorbell.

A few months before, I had made eye contact with the Tatar President at the Moscow Kremlin, where he was attending a press conference given by Russian President Vladimir Putin and the Canadian Prime Minister, Jean Chrétien.

Shaymiyev’s press secretary was sitting next to me and I had engaged him in a conversation. The secretary detected my strong French accent in Russian, and asked if I was from Quebec, Canada’s French-speaking province. “We like people from Quebec,” he said. “You, like us, are civilized separatists.”

In 1990, Shaymiyev, at that time head of the Tatar Supreme Soviet, gained notoriety in Russia after declaring Tatarstan’s sovereignty. Of the 21 republics in the Russian Federation, only Tatarstan and Chechnya have declared themselves sovereign.

Needless to say, the conversation provided an excellent pretext for requesting an interview.

The opulence of the Tatarstan Presidential Palace was strikingly reminiscent of the Moscow Kremlin: white walls, pastel decorations and shiny floors. Tea, chocolate and “chak-chak,” a traditional Tatar candy that sticks to your teeth, were already laid out on the table. President Shaymiyev came out, looking almost shy, from his office.

A translator helped us to exchange respectful greetings … until I asked my first question.

“So, President Shaymiyev, you are a civilized separatist?”

The 66-year-old politician, nicknamed “Babai” (grandfather) by Tatars, burst out laughing. “No, separation from Russia has never been our goal. We have been part of Russia for more than 500 years. Separation is not in our interest, since most Tatars live outside of Tatarstan, in the rest of the former Soviet Union.” Indeed, Tatars are Russia’s largest ethnic minority, numbering more than 5.5 million among 145 million Russians. Only a third of them live in Tatarstan.

“But Tatarstan’s place in the Russian Federation does diminish our sovereignty,” he adds.

I was puzzled. How can you be sovereign and be part of another country?  Is not sovereignty tantamount to territorial independence? When Canadian citizens of Quebec voted twice on the question of sovereignty, they were voting for or against separation from Canada (both votes failed).

President Shaymiyev gave me a look that was half-amused, half-weary. The question of Tatarstan’s “sovereignty” has been at the heart of heated discussions with the Russian government for years. “Babai” has been at the center of this heat.

Under Yeltsin,  whom Shaymiyev called “the flag bearer of freedom,” republics were invited to “take as much liberty as they could handle.”

Russia, when it parted ways with the 14 other republics of the Soviet Union, churned up a wind of decentralization. The 89 administrative entities comprising the Russian Federation were invited to take power locally. This led to all sorts of excesses. Some regional governors or presidents established fiefdoms. Others grabbed up precious natural resources within their region’s boundaries.

Then there was Chechnya. Like Tatarstan, Chechnya is largely Muslim and oil-rich. But, unlike landlocked Tatarstan, Chechnya butts up against Russia’s international border with Georgia. Chechnya declared not just sovereignty but independence after the USSR’s breakup. War with the Russian army began in 1994, and has continued with but one hiatus to the present day.

Shaymiyev pointed out that Chechnya has always been different from the Tatar model. “In Chechnya, there is a terrorist presence that has never been in Tatarstan. We believe in autonomy within the Federation,” Shaymiyev emphasized. And he brushed off assertions that, a few years ago, his oil-rich Republic was thinking about much more than this.

Instead of a civilized separatist, today Shaymiyev is a civilized federalist. He said he would like to see all Russia’s regions be given a certain autonomy to do things their way, that all ethnic or religious minorities should have a chance to decide certain issues for themselves.

Shaymiyev admits that he has had to compromise with the Putin administration on Tatarstan’s status. But he also clearly indicates that some things are beyond compromise.

“We have agreed to harmonize our Tatar Constitution with Russia’s,” Shaymiyev stated.  “However, we consider that it is dangerous for Russia to build itself into a unitarian State like it was under the USSR. We strongly believe that this would be antidemocratic and we intend to defend the advantages of a federation.”

Russia’s best road is toward a federalism based on a mix of American, Swiss and Canadian models, Shaymiyev said. This is the best way to avoid either more bloody conflicts or a breakup.

But it is a hard fight. Recently, the Russian Duma crushed a law passed by the Tatar Parliament that would have instituted the Latin alphabet as the official alphabet for Tatar, a Turkic language.

Tatarstan has stayed the law, but continues to push for a stronger role for the Tatar language in the republic’s social and political life.

“For 70 years, our culture was pushed aside,” Shaymiyev said. “There was only one school [in the republic] that taught in Tatar and that’s the one I attended. But, when it came to higher education, everything was done in Russian. Since 1990, we have been able to turn the tide.”

Both Tatar and Russian are being taught in schools now and Islam, the official Tatar religion, also banned for 70 years, has regained lost ground. “There were 23 mosques in Tatarstan when the Union collapsed,” Shaymiyev said. “There are more than 1000 now, built by the people.”

The president is also proud of the republic’s economic stability, ensured by the fact that Tatarstan outputs 9% of Russia’s oil. However, like much of the rest of Russia, wealth here is concentrated in very few hands. And in Tatarstan, Babai’s family has a heavy pull on the republic’s resources and industry.

The other presidential face

While none would speak openly against the president, some top officials who requested anonymity averred that Shaymiyev’s  compromises with Moscow are what has kept him wealthy and in power.

“His family owns all of Tatarstan’s industry,” said one young official. “If the Kremlin turns against him, he would be in a pretty bad situation.”

What about opposition to Shaymiyev? “Well, he makes sure that an opposition does not exist,” another bureaucrat said. “He controls the local media. He can either buy those who want to oppose him, make them part of the power machine, or make sure they get lost. One of his opponents ended up in Moscow.”

So, is Babai still loved, after over a decade in power? “He’s getting a bit tired, a bit older,” another official said. “But a lot of people still think he is the best man for the situation. He is a real Tatar; he speaks both Russian and Tatar; he is close to the Moscow Kremlin and, most importantly, he has kept social peace here.”

CALL IT MULTICULTURALISM

The peaceful coexistence of Russian and Tatar culture — exemplified by the moon and the cross side-by-side in the Kremlin, has been the very foundation of Tatarstan for more than 400 years. And politically, it is a top priority.

Indeed, Kazan is a case study for Russian multiculturalism that works. Tatars represent over 50% of the capital’s population, while Russians make up most of the remainder, with an interesting mix of Chuvash, Mordovians, Udmurts, Bashkirs, Maris and immigrants from Central Asia to complete the ethnic soup.

Although the majority of young Tatars born under the Red Star barely speak their mother tongue, Tatar and Russian are used throughout the city interchangeably in conversation. Bilingual signs are the rule on storefronts.

“I speak Tatar because I learned it from my parents. I am one of the few,” said Inessa, a 27 year-old professor of psychology born and raised in Kazan. “We used to see it as a ‘peasant language.’ But now that it is being taught in schools again, it may gain some status. And my children will speak it even better than I do.”

Despite her cosmopolitan name, blue eyes, dark hair and high cheekbones, Inessa could be a poster girl for the Tatar race: an ethnic group born from the mix of Volga Bulgarians and Mongol horsemen of the Golden Horde (see box, left).

But Inessa prefers to assume the duality of her identity: proud to be Tatar, strongly attached to Russia. “Our strength is not in nationalism. It is in tolerance of others,” she said. “That’s what makes Kazan what it is.”

The Muslim Board of Tatarstan, headed by Gusman Hazrat Iskhakov, agrees. It has been doing everything it can to keep fundamentalist elements from gaining sway in the republic’s Muslim communities. And there have been some alarming events. Last year, a group of Tatar Muslims destroyed an Orthodox Church that was under construction. And two Tatars, fighting alongside the Taliban, were captured in Afghanistan.

“In order to keep the Islamic propaganda away from our youth, we founded our own Islamic university three years ago,” Iskhakov said. More than 120 young men study the Koran and Islamic law in the new institution. “We have teachers from Middle Eastern countries who teach Arabic,” Iskhakov said, “but they are constrained by our curriculum. Arab countries’ politics of confrontation make no sense in Tatarstan. There is no place in our teaching for intolerant propaganda. We live too close together to allow any chauvinism.” Yet, ironically, the university does not accept women, despite the fact that they are some of the most active practicing Muslims in the republic.

1000 YEARS OF HISTORY

There is another, historical reason for Tatarstan’s leaders to claim an important and independent place in Russian politics and culture. In 2005, Kazan will celebrate its 1000th anniversary, which makes it older than Moscow (“just” 855) and a veritable “Babai” to 300-year-old St. Petersburg.

“We hope those celebrations will put Kazan on the map and bring more people to visit us,” said Alsou, a young woman working in the republic’s Ministry of Trade and Economic Cooperation. “People who come to Russia have a tendency to visit only the two main cities. But we want to make Kazan the next stop.”

And Kazan does represent a unique tourist destination in Russia. Eastern (Tatar) and Russian history live side by side in its streets, spiced up with a bit of “nostalgic” Soviet atmosphere.

The Russian presence in Tatarstan dates to Ivan the Terrible’s conquest of Kazan in 1552. Russian architects, themselves influenced by European masters, have left their mark throughout the city. As in St. Petersburg, pastel colors abound. And, in the lower town, there are canals. Once used for transportation, now they are picturesque places for a casual stroll.

Soviet architecture also left its mark. The Hotel Tatarstan resembles any other Communist era hotel, with its aged furniture and gruff front desk service. Yet this Soviet monster offers the best view down Bauman street, Kazan’s main commercial thoroughfare, where young and old alike hang out, shop and sell.

Bauman street resembles Moscow’s famous Old Arbat. But in Kazan there are no matryoshkas to be seen, no old Red Army paraphernalia to be bought. Bauman street belongs to the people of Kazan alone.

A couple of streets further on, Kazan’s market, graced by one of the city’s oldest mosques, has all the attributes of an eastern bazaar. With its stalls and noises, it sings the commercial song of the East and recalls the heyday of the Silk Road.

Its compact downtown, absence of crowds and friendly locals, always ready to provide directions, makes Kazan a place best explored by casual wandering through its streets. The locals have made it their goal to be particularly pleasant to visitors, which makes getting back on that train for the 800 km ride to Moscow all the more difficult. RL