Children,Russian Empire (1900s/1910s)
Children,Russian Empire (1900s/1910s)
Russian Empire (1900s/1910s)
Constantine: I've got this completely under control
Dmitry: Is that why everything's on fire?
Hey guys, I'm back from my break and it's been a good break for me, I got my schoolwork done and I hang out with my family. But I also missed posting art so here is my version of Russia's and Germany's relationship over the centuries. This is my headcanon btw.
Russian Empire,Sestroretsk.View of the house and the river Sestra
20 Rubles, 1917 Russian Empire (now Russia)
Denomination: Ruble (demonetised)
Composition: cotton paper
This banknote is so small it makes me want to cry. its proper measurements are 6.2x4.9cm, and it's dwarfed by every other note in my collection. This little banknote went through the entire October revolution and came out the other side in pretty good nick.
Girl with a photo album,Russian Empire,Kazan
wild fields (1400s-1552)–> zaporizhian sich (1552-1775)–> novorossiya governate (1775-1802)–> yekaterinoslav governate (1802-1917)–> makhnovshchina (1917-1921)–> ukrainian ssr (1921-1991)–> ukraine (1991-present)
brother, drive out power in yourself. never let it fascinate you or your brothers. a true collective life is not built with programs or with governments but with the freedom of mankind, with its creativity and its independence.
long live the ideal of universal human harmony, and man's fight towards it!
-- nestor makhno, 1920; the anarchist revolution
… it was over?
danila didn’t believe it at first. he’d been slipping a bullet into his rifle when he’d heard the news, that the russians had revolted against the tsar. if danila had done as much, well, that wouldn’t have surprised a soul—he was known for slipping his leash and saying no to orders regularly. but it had been his brother who had told the tsar no this time. and danila didn’t know what that meant. the war wasn’t over—europe was still on fire, but more importantly for him, from kyiv to galicia, ukrainian lands were still being exchanged like playing cards between russia and austria-hungary. but, his brother had told him to go and fight, because it was up to everyone to go and fight, after all. danila didn’t mind this in itself, because he was good at fighting wars. and though he didn’t entirely understand why he was fighting, well, maybe this war could deliver something brighter.
but it hadn’t. and now, his brother was resisting the order he’d given. so, did danila have to follow it? more importantly, if danila didn’t, would any officials come and reprimand him as before? danila took off his hat with the double-headed eagle and laid it down...
then, nothing happened. in fact, after the events of february, 1917, the order came from russia that there would be no more orders, because autocratic orders were archaic and had died with the empire: danylo could do as he pleased, write what he saw fit, and say whatever he wanted.
well, what did he want?
danylo wanted to be free. that was all he’d ever really wanted: to heed no orders, to have no superiors, to do as he saw fit without needing anyone’s approval. so, he decided he’d be free, then. for as much as he’d wanted it, danylo didn’t entirely know what freedom meant, but he remembered when he’d felt the freest. it was when he was small, when he jumped on a horse too big for him and brandished a sword too heavy for him. he’d wielded it against polish hussars, tatar raiders, and the russian tsars, then made a name for himself that way, all while the kyivans tsk tsked at the little boy from the beyond the rapids who had all the bravado and abandon of a stray cat.
he’d never been an ideologue. so, danylo was skeptical when he’d first heard about anarchist nestor makhno. he saw his name in bold letters on a leaflet printed on paper that still had the tsar’s face on the back, albeit with graffiti that had turned nicholas into the devil. he didn’t understand everything that he read there—the principles of anarchism, communism, or most of the isms, but he did understand a few of the lines in makhno’s summons:
let us rise in revolt, brethren! we shall cast down all thrones, we shall seize the gold and purple scepter, and pay no more honor to anything. long live freedom!
though makhno had written his poem in 1907, danylo had thought the same thing in 1471. and to him, it seemed like there was only one person on earth who was promising danylo what he wanted: limitless, boundless, unadulterated freedom. danylo didn’t necessarily consider himself an anarchist—he wouldn’t have called himself an anything-ist. nevertheless, while all of eastern and central europe seemed to be collapsing around ukraine, danylo jumped onto a tachanka, got behind a machine gun, and underneath a black flag. he was the free territory.
danylo burned his old cockades, hauled down symbols of authority wherever he saw them, and stuck out his tongue at any official who looked his way. he fought germans, austrians, hungarians, and poles; he fought the whites, reds, and the greens; he even fought fellow ukrainians when he found their program unjust. if he had a neighbor, odds were that they stared down the barrel of danylo’s gun at least once. the ramshackle little boy of five hundred years earlier would have certainly been proud of this display, a nation whose symbol was a thumb on the nose at any and all hierarchies.
and yet, at the end of the day, danylo did not sit so much as he collapsed, and that was only if he got the chance. after all, life had been one, long, continuous war since 1914, and in the modern world, the battle did not sleep at night anymore. in the modern world, if danylo even had a bed, it had likely been someone else’s first—someone whose war was over now. in the modern world, danylo had no friends, and if he didn’t hate his family, then they hated him, the little anarchist commune who got on everyone’s nerves. in the modern world, if danylo managed to find food, he probably wasn’t proud of the way he’d gotten it. the only thing makhno could provide were words, and while words can fill mouths, they can’t fill bellies. danylo didn’t remember the last time he wasn’t hungry or in pain or paranoid of who was behind him.
he didn’t understand—danylo had wanted this life. he’d remembered it so fondly—it had all seemed so delightful as a boy. after all, through centuries of romanticization, danylo could only remember the thrill and adventure of the past. he’d forgotten all the rest—the cold, the hunger, the uncertainty that came with a life at war. danylo had come into this world with nothing; he didn’t even have a name, because he’d been born a serf, so nobody had ever bothered to give him one. the moments he wasn’t fighting, he was running or hiding, never sure when he’d eat next, where he’d sleep next, or who would find him next. now, all over again, he had nothing. and all over again, he was scared, just like he’d been as a little boy in the days of the commonwealth.
but he’d forgotten that part. because history is equal parts myth and memory, isn’t it? danylo realized something then: not only was there no perfect future, but there was no perfect past, either. there had only been enough time for him to think up one for himself, because the alternative would have been too sad: danylo had thought he’d been free then, but he hadn’t been. he’d never been free, and he still wasn’t, even when his existence, supposedly, spoke to the spirit of freedom. he was the only one who recognized that freedom, nobody else did. but by this point, danylo was too exhausted to be free. he was too exhausted to even dream of it.
by the end of august, 1921, the red army had captured most of ukraine. on august 28th, nestor makhno, the man danylo had called батько, or father, fled the free territory. meanwhile, according to the borders delineated by the treaty of brest-litovsk in 1918, danylo and his sister constituted the newly formed ukrainian soviet socialist republic. in 1922, ukraine became one of the founding members of the union of soviet socialist republics. by 1925, nestor makhno had settled in paris.
danylo wondered how life was there.
Children,Russian Empire (1900s)
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Families of pre-revolutionary Russia (1900s/1910s)