Eva Rapoport and other volunteers from »Kowcheg« help Russians who have come to Istanbul out of fear of mobilization to find their way around.
Photo: dpa | Arne Immanuel Bansch
Istanbul is showing its best side this Saturday. In the warm sunshine, locals and tourists stroll through the lively streets of the city. But the appearance of normality is deceptive. Since Russian President Vladimir Putin ordered partial mobilization, many Russians have fled the country. As at the beginning of the war in Ukraine, many are drawn to Istanbul.
There, Eva Rapoport from »Kowtscheg« (Ark) takes care of the newcomers. In March, together with other Russians, all of whom had just arrived, she founded the Istanbul branch of the organization from Yerevan. ‘We had to do something. After the war in Ukraine started, we couldn’t just carry on as if nothing had happened,” the volunteer told nd. According to the principle “From Russians for Russians”, the organization takes care of the migrants with a variety of offers. The services range from free accommodation and language courses to psychological help and useful information on migration.
The help of »Kowtscheg« is in greater demand these days than it has been since March. During the conversation, Rapoport keeps receiving messages from newcomers and those seeking help who want to leave Russia. She and her colleagues use Telegram to arrange a place for the migrants in one of their accommodations. They then support them in applying for humanitarian visas and give them tips on life in Turkey.
»At the moment, almost only men can be seen on the planes and cars leaving Russia. Hardly any women. Nobody knows how much longer you can leave the country,” says the trained anthropologist, describing the situation. Many who could be drafted would rather go to jail or hide in the woods than go to war. “Nobody wants to die for Putin,” Rapoport adds.
This is exactly where there is a significant difference to the wave of departures in spring. In March and April, many young people left Russia for moral reasons. They turned their backs on their homeland and thus showed that they wanted nothing to do with the regime and the war. For the current newcomers, it is no longer a question of a political attitude. It’s about life and death.
Against this background, Rapoport also criticizes the reaction of some Western countries. “Finland and other countries are now closing borders with Russia. This is inappropriate and terrible.” For her, helping these people is a humanitarian cause.
Anyone who has made it out of Russia faces a mountain of challenges. Moving to a new country is always difficult. It is even more difficult for people who have no experience abroad and do not speak foreign languages. In contrast to the mostly well-educated and cosmopolitan migrants of the spring departure wave, this is now the case for many new arrivals. The fact that they cannot pay with their cards or withdraw money abroad also makes it more difficult. This is where western sanctions hit the wrong people, says Rapoport.
In Russia, meanwhile, it is becoming apparent that partial mobilization is being carried out completely indiscriminately in some places. Older men with several children and people with disabilities also receive mail from the army. The broad Russian population is now feeling the war much more clearly than before. In many places, such as in the Caucasus republic of Dagestan, the government’s actions are met with rejection.
So the terror of mobilizing for Rapoport also has a good side. “Maybe we’re getting closer to Putin’s end this way,” she cautiously speculated.
