Illustration by Tilly Binucci
War holds a peculiar place in our culture. We grow up watching the battles of the past unfold in acts of Hollywood heroism on the cinema screen. Some of us go to the arcade or play video games, where we feel a hot-headed inclination to load our virtual rifles and gun down the enemy. The horrors of war are made real, and yet enjoyable with the rosy promise of a respawn. The finitude of life does not exist in the cinema of war. We might choose to wear camouflage clothing or enjoy sitting in military-grade vehicles, such as a Jeep. Some go on to join the army or to work for weapons manufacturers, others do not. The point is this: war and militarism are everywhere, pervading all Western pop culture, and yet we are distanced from its concrete realities at the same time.
Society should resist this fetishisation of war. It is not normal to be surrounded by guns and armour, to want to drive a tank, to have a bunker at the bottom of your house, or to know how the nuclear announcement would sound on a national television broadcast. It is not normal to go seeking war when it remains a painful reality for so many across the globe.
Two weeks ago a group of Oxford students decided to make their way to Ukraine, either for a quick weekend or just to “see war”, because after all, why not? News about the trip was proudly broadcasted on the students’ Instagram and Snapchat accounts, making its way through Oxford’s student community, and cleaving the student opinion. To some, they were awesome acts of valour, daring courage, and gallantry. To others, these actions symbolise the ivory tower that Oxford students are so often accused of being sat in. As a Global Affairs Editor at The Blue, attentive to the impact of crises, and as an individual, I agree with the latter.
The group landed in Kyiv on 23 February, the day before Russian troops entered Ukrainian territory. What prevails here is the ignorant belief that one can pay to experience the ‘adventure’ of war – or the preparation for it – and all the same whilst being granted immunity from the horror, suffering, and uncertainty which is part and parcel of being a Ukrainian citizen at the moment. Essentially, distance, safety, and abstraction from war can be bought at a price.
A certain level of disdainful sympathy can be found given that we live in a society that manufactures the ‘cinema of war’. It’s true: your grandchildren might think it is a cool story in fifty years’ time. War is valorized after all. But frankly, this attitude shows nothing but contempt towards the Ukrainian people; in the time they are going to “see war”, others are living it, and unlike them cannot choose to attach and detach themselves from the conflict at will. Whilst the metro stations in Kyiv are being flooded by citizens seeking shelter, our three Oxonians are sitting in a taxi, posting selfies on their social media and being driven to Romania, from where they plan on taking a plane home: a luxury most people in Ukraine don’t have right now.
The students have since claimed to have been filming a ‘conflict documentary’ in Ukraine, thus serving as their legitimation for being in the warzone after being faced with the student community’s backlash. I strongly dismiss these claims. What qualification and legitimacy do these students have in filming a student documentary in a conflict zone? Have they received training? Were they given ethical permission? And most importantly, why was the ‘documentary’ never mentioned before their departure? The details do not add up. The students in question have also claimed that they used a ‘planned route’ to escape the conflict. Does this then mean that they were aware of contributing to potential road blockages and inhibiting the evacuation of actual Ukrainian citizens, experiencing actual warfare? Even requiring a simple taxi journey to the border prevents a taxi driver from safely evacuating alongside their family. The sheer act of being there – against national guidelines – is a flagrant expression of privilege that Ukrainian citizens are not lucky enough to hold.
The group seems to have escaped the country successfully, but did the eventuality that something might have happened to them in a country on the brink of war even cross their minds? Did they even consider that if they were to be stranded in a war zone, or injured, they would not only put their lives at risk but also the lives of those who would be sent to rescue them? These “war tourism” trips are not only disrespectful towards those who will suffer the consequences of the war, but are bureaucratically draining, diplomatically compromising, and, most importantly, altogether selfish.
It is important to openly condemn these actions. Yes, people make mistakes, but the lack of inward thinking until now suggests the sweet taste of escaping war is still a feeling worth relishing for these students. Even more significantly, we are all a part of an institution that is under constant scrutiny and surveillance from the non-Oxford world – a student body not revered for our respectful disposition or situational awareness, and often justifiably so. It is not prudent to seek ‘adventure tourism’ in a place where many families could be told to leave with almost no notice, uncertain if they will return home to reality or rubble. If there is one place on earth that is completely indiscriminate, it is the battlefield, and it takes people of great folly to journey there without anticipating the consequences of their actions.
Slava Ukraini.