Berkley Center

Background: As part of the Education and Global Social Justice Project, in June 2012 undergraduate student Masha Goncharova interviewed Nina Konstantinova Rausch de Traubenberg, a retired psychologist, a writer, and a representative of the second generation of Russian émigrés to Europe. In this interview de Traubenberg discusses how the Russian cultural and historical education provided by Russian Students Christian Organization—Orthodox Youth Movement (Action Chrétienne des Etudiants Russess—Mouvement de Jeunesse Orthodoxe, ACER-MJO) helped her navigate the experience of emigration and the role of the Orthodox faith in maintaining Russian identity in France even if the Russian language is no longer spoken.

Tell me about yourself.

I was born in Poland and grew up in Prague, where as you know there was a very big and important section of the Russian émigré community, specifically the organization ACER-MJO.

What about your parents?

My parents were alive in the Czech Republic, and then my father died there. My mother moved to Bulgaria, and from Bulgaria we moved here.

How did you feel when you moved to Paris? Were there other Russians?

Yes, so many. My uncle was already here, and he helped send me to Provence while my mom was busy with work, because getting the basic provisions was quite difficult at that time.

Why?

Well, the Russian immigration wasn't at all well respected back then. There was a mass of all sorts of shallow associations with the Russian people. And everyone was looking for work and housing, but we had nothing. Some older members became the defenders of our community, and they took leadership and helped us get through this difficult time. People who worked in Russia as the top most-educated teachers, like Mademoiselle Berck—here she was in poverty! And there was Monsieur Ara, who also played such a big role in our education growing up. Luckily then he got a position more deserving of his intelligence and worked at the National Library. He helped us so much.

Did you go to Russian school?

Right away, I came into the circle of ACER. My whole family was in Ukraine, close to Vasiliy Zinkovsky, who was at that point teaching in a gymnasium in Kiev. My mom died when I was 14 years old. Before she died, she wrote to Father Vasily [Zinkovsky] asking him to take care of me and my education. He accepted me into this Orthodox movement ACER, to my great, great relief. Truly, they took care of me in all sorts of ways.

What did you learn there?

The entire religious intellectual foundation. We thought, we searched, we wondered and talked about these experiences. Of course now, this has diminished greatly.

But among the community, does this feeling of Russian spiritual identity remain?

It depends on an individual basis. The closeness and intimacy of our group within ACER to this day remains strong. But despite the closeness, actually getting together is becoming less and less frequent. Before, we had many more circles to learn and discuss Russian history, literature, and culture.

What role did this education have in your life?

This was extremely important. All I knew, I learned from those circles in the youth movement. This movement was a live transmission of Russian history and culture. The movement had a huge impact in my life. It fed my soul. And I'm not alone. But today of course the movement has decreased. Russians from our émigré community are marrying with more and more French people, so the number of real Russians is significantly smaller. But we need to use what we have.

You, of course, were close friends with famous writer Boris Zaitsev. Tell me about your experience with this family.

The Zaitsevs were incredible people. One time I was working on the factory in Rouen, and they were living in Beaucour close by. We played cards back then, and they gave me cards in the factory for doing good work, and in return I would bring butter or products to their family. They were truly amazing people. He was, of course, a wonderful writer of great clarity and quality. And his wife Vera Alexseevna was such a wonderful woman of such discipline and comfort. They lived so happily—but there was barely any money! Somehow she still managed to feed everyone.

How do you think these people, who materially lost everything, could save their spirit and a happy life, when they lost everything materially?

They were spiritually rich, after all. Their happiness was underneath the surface. They had a lively life of communication with others in our community. Nowadays everyone just sits in their apartments by themselves, but back then, when nobody had anything, you communicated with each other for comfort and solidarity. There were many gatherings, small circles, discussions.

Do you think there's a chance that in 10 or 20 years Parisian White Russians will still be writing and communicating in Russian?

I fear that no. I mean, I do know a lot of people who speak and talk Russian, but most of the young people I have met do not. It's usually because one of the parents is fully French. But what I am sure will remain will be Orthodoxy—it holds a greater hold on the people than the language completely. There have been so many various fraternities and Orthodox organizations, and these are only increasing the faith. There are some people who have decided that they actually reject all things Russian, except the Orthodox religion. But that is normal—faith indeed overpowers nationalities.

Have you ever been back to Russia?

Yes, the first time I was back was in 1966 on an international psychology congress in Moscow. I lived in the University of Sparrow Hills. It was very interesting, because back then they were pretty afraid of Russians from the West, especially with regard to questions of religion. They kept on trying to do something nice for me. I said, “Take me to the monastery,” and the guide took me there with such a fear. She really did not want to have anything to do with religion. Actually the first generation of Russians who came after the perestroika were all about visiting St. Genevieve du Bois [a cemetery in France], where all the famous Western Russians are buried.

Do you think Russian culture will continue?

Continue? Well, I read in the papers that there are some economic exchanges, and Russian is needed in Europe. Especially engineers. Russian-speaking engineers in France do embrace the culture so that they could work internationally in the Russian culture.