We’re Having a Party in the Streets

Today is my birthday, and I can think of no better birthday present than Qazt: Ossetian Urban Rituals in Vladikavkaz, a 46-minute documentary film released earlier today by Tbilisi-based Ored Recordings, whose remit is “traditional and local music from the Caucasus and beyond.” The film comes hot on the heels of Ored’s release of the eponymous album a week ago.

Nothing would make me happier today than if you watched the film and listened to the album, which I’ve pasted into this post, below. If you like what you hear, see, and read, support Ored’s vital mission by sending them what you money can afford and downloading the Qazt digital album or any of the other releases in the label’s growing back catalogue. Thanks! ||| TRR

Qazt is a traditional game among the Ossetians. It is a ritualistic, musical, dance, and social space that forms on various festive occasions. During the qazt, young people would socialize, boys would showcase their courage, and they would compete in various heroic and joyful activities. In 2020, we traveled to Vladikavkaz to explore the urban qazts, make a documentary film, and issue this release. We were interested in qazt as a new cultural phenomenon, an event of urban culture, and a modern form of Ossetian self-organization.

Filmed by Tamerlan Vasil’ev (and Muhamed Eley)

Audio release on Ored Recordings

Special thanks to Alik Puhati

Ored Recordings 2023

Source: Ored Recordings (YouTube), 10 August 2023

Qazt is a traditional game among the Ossetians. It is a ritualistic, musical, dance, and social space that forms on various festive occasions.

During the qazt, young people would socialize, boys would showcase their courage, and they would compete in various heroic and joyful activities.

Analogues of qazt can be found among other peoples in the Caucasus. For example, among the Circassians, such festive dances are called dzhagu. The semantics of the Ossetian word “qazt” and the Circassian “dzhagu” are even the same — “game.”

In 2020, we traveled to Vladikavkaz to explore the urban qazts, make a documentary film, and issue this release. We were interested in qazt as a new cultural phenomenon, an event of urban culture, and a modern form of Ossetian self-organization.

During the pandemic years, traditional dances on the streets of Vladikavkaz became a noticeable event — qazts were covered by Caucasian media and Ossetian bloggers. We were invited to film the event by Alik Pukhaev, the author of the Rajdian blog.

In 2020, qazts seemed to be a growing initiative. This youth movement had it all: a vibrant cultural component, moderate protest, and an orientation towards the future, rather than a romantic desire to return to the past, where everything was considered better, purer, more authentic, and more national.

The qazts were organized not by officials who often do things formally, nor by the elderly, who are used to scolding the youth and imposing what they consider to be the authentic traditions of their people. No, this new cultural movement was led by young people who equally loved Ossetian culture and some global elements — like rock music or hip-hop. What was even more important is that the organizers did not draw boundaries between their local and global identities, between the traditional and the modern.

Qazts in the center of Vladikavkaz became part of urban culture, something that not only ethnographers but also urbanists from fancy magazines would write about in the future. The urban dances and songs struck a balance between preserving Ossetian culture and Caucasian solidarity. Initially, Ossetian students were inspired by Circassian festivities in Nalchik and decided to create something of their own.

It is important to note that at weddings in North Ossetia, Circassian and Chechen dances are very popular. According to Ossetian cultural activists, sometimes they are even too popular. Despite their desire to build horizontal connections with their neighbors and avoid getting trapped in provincial ethno-patriotism, the organizers of the qazts noticed that foreign cultural elements were becoming more popular than local ones, and many traditional dances were being forgotten.

Therefore, their project had specific rules: only Ossetian songs were allowed to be performed, and only Ossetian dances were allowed to be danced. All the other variety was appreciated but could be done on another occasion.

They also had a dress code: men were not allowed to dance in shorts, and women were not allowed to wear trousers. Some people criticized this approach on social media. Working with traditional culture is often associated with conservatism, so some viewed the effort to dress the audience in a certain way as backward.

On the other hand, one could compare this practice to dress codes at raves. It would be unfair to label a Berghain bouncer as a backward traditionalist if they don’t let someone in for not adhering to the techno dress code.

“It’s not a return to the past; we were creating a new culture for ourselves and others. We were trying not only to introduce Ossetian songs and dances into the urban environment but also to rethink our own culture. In the past, each dance had its context, which might not be understood in Vladikavkaz today. That’s why it’s important to come up with new meanings,” explained one of the qazt initiators, Tamu Berozti.

People of different generations – from children to grandparents – attended the qazts and embraced what the youth offered them. These evening gatherings in the city park or on the central avenue of Vladikavkaz provided many with an answer as to why all these songs about past heroes and dances with strange meanings were important. Or rather, the question “why?” did not arise because qazt had become a natural form of uniting people with similar identities.

The youth didn’t just bring culture to the public sphere, where people literally encountered Ossetian language and music while strolling through the city. For a while, the qazts managed to break the monopoly that academic and exemplary song, and dance ensembles had built. Qazt deliberately distanced itself from a staged show. It was not choreography for the audience, but a way to spend time together and, in the long run, negotiate with each other.

Since the release was recorded and the film was shot, three years have passed. In 2020, the main concern was the pandemic, which forced people to seek new ways of living together and uniting. Today, the main context in which the North Caucasus and other regions included in the Russian space live is war. The issues of preserving identity, culture, and solidarity have become even more acute.

It’s difficult to say why the qazts didn’t become a new driving force, a space for reflection, or simply a viable cultural phenomenon. They emerged brightly, attracted attention, and slowly faded away.

Perhaps the general fatigue of the main participants played a role: in the North Caucasus, musicians often expect overwhelming success and recognition after their first successful events, but over time, they lose enthusiasm and feel discouraged.

Maybe some tensions among the main organizers contributed to it – it was evident that they had disagreements on various issues. Or against the backdrop of a general depressive atmosphere in the region after 2022, they all became tired and engaged in other projects. More intimate and with clear structure – like the Ragon traditional music ensemble and the Uatsamonga choir.

In any case, there was no cultural revolution, and the qazt remained a ghost of a possible future.

However, its influence is still felt. Street concerts with Ossetian-language indie music in Vladikavkaz have increased. The Ragon group is releasing its second album and actively performing at festivals.

In the Rajdian blog, there was a post about a tweet from a dissatisfied Ossetian from the diaspora in Turkey:”Cultural youth is not the necessary generation for the continuity of ethnic identity. We need a political youth,” commented a descendant of migrants.

Many active young people in the North Caucasus share this view, perceiving music and dances as entertainment and distraction from problems. While we dance and sing approved songs joyfully, our languages are disappearing, and social problems are increasing more and more.

Initiatives like the Vladikavkaz qazts could have become an example of music aimed not only at entertainment but also at solidarity.

And the fact that our new release is once again about something from the past proves that cultural identity without a civic position is insufficient for gradual and confident development.

Film by Tamerlan Vasiliev will be out soon

Recorded on August 2020 in Vladikavkaz

Sound and mixing: Timur Kodzoko
Cover photo: Tamerlan Vasilyev
Cover art: Milana Khalilova
Liner notes: Bulat Khalilov
Translation: Bella Mirzoeva

Special thanks to Alik Puhati

Source: Ored Recordings (Bandcamp), 4 August 2023

Remembering Beslan

The Memory of Beslan
Takie Dela
September 1, 2017

On the anniversary of the tragedy, Takie Dela remembers the principal witnesses to the events in School No. 1.

On September 1, 2004, terrorists seized School No. 1 in Beslan. The gunmen herded over a thousand hostages, including small children, into the school’s gym. For three days, the hostages were forcibly held in the building without food and water. The security services assaulted the school to free the hostages.

A total of 334 people were killed in the terrorist attack, including 186 children. 126 of the former hostages were crippled. During the assault, the FSB killed 28 terrorists. The only terrorist taken alive, Nurpashi Kalayev, was arrested. A court later sentenced him to life in prison.

Many articles, investigative reports, and special projects have been written about the Beslan tragedy, and several documentary films and books have been released. Takie Dela recalls the primary witnesses to the events in School No. 1.

Novaya Gazeta

Novaya Gazeta reporter Elena Milashina was in Beslan during the terrorist attack. The first article she filed about the tragedy, “Lies Provoked Terrorists’ Aggression,” was published in the newspaper’s September 6, 2004, issue.

“According to the police officers and special forces soldiers with whom we have spoken, the preparations for the assault were vigorous. That the authorities were learning toward this option is borne out by one other fact. They did not, in fact, negotiate with the gunmen. No one intended to meet even their formal demands. They explained to us, ‘It’s not clear what they want.'”

In 2014, on the tenth anniversary of the tragedy, Milashina recalled how events had unfolded before and after the terrorist attack .

“The Beslan terrorist attack will go down in Russian history as an instance when the populace was disinformed on an unprecendented level. Up until the assault of the school, officials concealed the scale of the tragedy (the number of hostages). They also concealed negotiations with Chechen separatist leader Aslan Maskhadov, who was ready to ask the gunmen to put down their weapons. Akhmed Zakayev, Maskhadov’s emissary, was ready to fly straight to Beslan and take part in negotiations with the terrorists.”

In 2006, Novaya Gazeta published a special issue on the outcome of its investigation, featuring forensic evidence, annotated maps, official reports, and eyewitness testimony. The newspaper came to several conclusions. Reliable information about the upcoming terrorist attack was known to the authorities at least three hours before the school was seized, and Alexander Dzasokhov, president of North Ossetia, offered to replace the children with 800 officials and local MPs, but Moscow forbade him under pain of arrest from entering into negotiations. The biggest public outcry was caused by the newspaper’s claims that the school was fired upon by grenade launchers, flamethrowers, tanks, and helicopters on several occasions when the hostages were still in the building. According to the newspaper, the official inquiry, while it was in full possession of these facts, found no wrongdgoing in the actions of those in charge of the operation to free the hostages.

Twelve years later, Novaya Gazeta special correspondent Elena Kostyuchenko wrote down the dreams of surviving hostages.

“Vladimir’s dream: “I want to pick a plum. “Now,” I say, “I want a ladder to the plum and to pick the plum.” A young girl below me says, “I’m not your little girl.” I say, “And where is my little girl?” She says, “She is not here. I am another girl here.” After all, she was lying with my wife in the grave. “I’m not your daughter,” she says, “Don’t pick me plums.” I say, “Where is my little girl?” She says, “I don’t know. Look for her.”‘”

Kommersant

Kommersant reporter Olga Allenova was returning from Grozny, when her editors called her and told her about the terrorist attack in Beslan. She went to North Ossetia to write a story.

“‘Don’t let the hostages’ relatives on the air. Don’t cite any number of hostages except the official figure. Don’t use the word “storm.” The terrorists should not be called gunmen, only criminals, because terrorists are people you negotiate with.’ This was what several national TV channel reporters, located in Beslan, heard immediately from the top brass. We were all side by side, and I saw how hard it was for those guys to carry out the orders of the top brass. And I saw one of them crying in the evening after the school had been stormed.”

On October 17, 2004, the newspaper published an article entitled “How Did We Help Them?” The story dealt with the fortieth day after the terrorist attack. [In Orthodox culture, the fortieth day after a person’s death is usually remembered and marked by a ritual.]

“In Moscow, we say that forty days have passed since the school in Beslan was seized. Here those days did not exist. In their place is a black hole, like the hole made by a grenade in the floor of the assembly hall. And every day is a day of mourning.

“The entire city of Beslan is dressed in black. There are houses here in which not a single child is left, and entryways through which three caskets a day are carried out.”

In 2011, an infographic was posted on the newspaper’s website: it features a map of the school on which the main locations where the events took place are illustrated by short excerpts from archival video footage.

Esquire

In 2006, the Russian edition of Esquire published an article [in Russian] by New York Times reporter C.J. Chivers, in which he retraced the events in Beslan School No. 1 hour by hour: from the beginning of the ceremonial, first-day-of-school lineup at nine in the morning of September 1 to the medical care administered to the victims in the Vladikavkaz Hospital on September 4. Chivers had written the article [in English] o understand who the hostages had felt the whole time.

“Like many people who have been to Beslan, I subsequently thought a lot about what had happened. Like the people of Beslan, I was infuriated by the endless contradictory statements, the lack of information about many important episodes in the hostage crisis and the actions of the Russian authorities.”

Radio Svoboda

Ten years after the tragedy, Tom Balmforth and Diana Markosian published a story on the Radio Svoboda website about the lives of the surviving schoolchildren. The former hostages talked about their memories, features, and thoughts of the future.

“The children behaved heroically. We all grew up immediately. We really supported each other. In fact, we came together like a family there. Even many of the adults did not behave with as much dignity as the children. Apparently, the adults understand everything in terms of their being grown-up and wise, while we children saw it all through rose-tinted glasses, maybe. I know for a fact that, after those three days, we became completely different people,” recalls Zarina Tsirikhova. She was fourteen when the terrorist attack occurred.

Takie Dela

Takie Dela published Diana Khachatrian’s story about how, in September 2016, the memorial events in Beslan ended in arrests. During the ceremonial school lineup at School No. 1, five women staged a protest. They removed their jackets, under which they were wearing t-shirts that bore accusations against the regime.

Voice of Beslan activists in the gym of School No. 1. Their t-shirts are emblazoned with the slogan, “Putin is the execution of Beslan.” Photo courtesy of Diana Khachartian and Takie Dela

“The female activists of Voice of Beslan stand apart in the gym. The five women are wearing handmade t-shirts on which the inscription “Putin is the executioner of Beslan” has been written in marker pen. This is not a hysterical slogan. Based on their own impressions and evidence from the investigations, the women argue that on September 3, 2004, Vladimir Putin or a member of his entourage gave the orders to storm the school in order to expedite events and prevent negotiations with Aslan Maskhadov. They argue the hostages could have been saved.”

Photography

Photographer Oksana Yushko has for many years produced unique photograph projects on the aftermath of the Beslan tragedy. Yushko takes pictures of the children who were taken hostage in September 2004 at different stages in their school careers, both in everyday life and during graduation from school.

Amina Kachmazova, left, and Fariza Mitdzieva hugging each other in the old school No. 1 in Beslan. Fariza, 18: ‘Here we are, such heroes, living after the attack. And somehow we are able to find happiness in life. Life just goes on and we cannot change what already happened to us. Just the opposite: now it is more pleasant to look at how we laugh, have fun and enjoy life.’ Beslan, North Ossetia, 2013. Photo courtesy of Oksana Yushko

Documentary Films

In 2005, some of the relatives of those who were killed during the terrorist attack established the grassroots organization Mothers of Beslan. That same year, due to friction within the group, a number of committee members left the group and founded another organization, Voice of Beslan.

Rodion Chepel’s The Committee, released on the tenth anniversary of the tragedy, focuses on Beslan’s female activists.

Chepel discussed how the film was made in an interview with Rusbase.

“We have never met such people. They are such uncompromisingly honest people, it was if they would be shot for lying. From a distance it seems that Beslan is god knows what, part of Moscow’s war with terrorism. But when you go there, you understand it is just human grief that has made them so tough and very honest. It’s not a matter of politics. They’re in touch with their humanity. You talk to them and you realize you simply have not met such people. This was what we wanted to show in the film: what these ten years have done with these people is incredible. They just want someone to explain to them what happened, for someone to say, “Forgive me. It was my fault.” Instead, they have been threatened and slandered. People have tried to sick them on each other, drive a wedge through them, and present them as insane.”

Filmmaker Vadim Tsalikov has shot four documentary films about the terrorist attack in Beslan. One of them is Beslan: Memory.

Foreign filmmakers have also shot films about the tragedy in North Ossetia. For example, Joe Halderman shot the film Beslan: Three Days in September for Showtime. The picture was screened at the Tribeca Film Festival in 2006.

Personal Diary

In 2012, one of the hostages, 14-year-old Agunda Vatayeva, decided to publish her memoir of the terrorist attack. The young woman launched a diary on LiveJournal and wrote three posts in which told from beginning to end the story of the three days she spent in captivity.

“If you deliberately searched for my diary, you probably want to read my memoir of the terrorist attack in Beslan: Day One, Day Two, and Day Three. It is unlikely that you will find my LiveJournal exciting or at least positive reading. It was started once upon a time for quite different purposes. It was a kind of psychotherapy for me.”

***

In April 2017, the European Court of Human Rights award three million euros to the relatives of the victims. There were over 400 plaintiffs in the case. The court ruled that the Russian authorities had not taken sufficient measures to prevent the terrorist attack and had violated Article 2 of the European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms: the right to life. In addition, Russia had not prevented a threat to people’s lives and had not planned the assault on the school properly. The European Court of Human Rights likewise deemed that the Russian authorities had not properly investigated all circumstances of the terrorist attack and the causes of the hostages’ deaths.

The Kremlin reacted to the ECtHR’s ruling by saying that “an emotional assessment is hardly appropriate.”

“Of course, we cannot agree with this formulation. In a country that has been repeatedly attacked by terrorists, and the list of such countries has been growing, unfortunately, these formulations and purely hypothetic arguments are hardly acceptable. An emotional assessment is hardly appropriate.

“All the necessary legal actions related to this decision will be taken,” said Dmitry Peskov, the president’s spokesman.

Translated by the Russian Reader