Save the children Watch out, NATO. Here comes a patriotic youth camp to reunite the Soviet space.

On Tuesday, May 10, a congress of military-athletic youth organizations and cadet corps under the banner “Union-2016—Heirs to Victory” concluded in the Russian republic of Tatarstan. Some 400 teenagers from various regions across the country spent about ten days learning to throw knives and complete an obstacle course, listening to lectures on the “information war unleashed against Russia,” and taking part in a patriotic concert program. This nationwide “Union” is the qualifying stage for an international gathering that, since 2007, has assembled children each year from former Soviet states. In 2016, that meeting will include teams from Latvia and Lithuania. Union organizers say that, in the West, the youth camp is considered a threat to the European Union and NATO. In a special piece for Meduza, Elena Chesnokova of the Kazan-based publication Inde reports from Tatarstan's congress of military-athletic organizations.

Dogs barking at Mother Russia

Students from the Cossack Cadet Corps of Ryazan Boarding School No.2 take the stage in the concert hall of the Krutushka sanatorium not far from Kazan. In emphatic unison, they call out the Cossack motto: “Soul to God, Life to the Fatherland, Duty to Oneself, Honor to Nobody.” The teens cross themselves three times and begin skillfully twirling mock swords to the tune of a traditional Cossack battle song.

Then the lyrical part of the performance begins. Against a backdrop slideshow with photographs of a monument to 13th-century Russian warrior Evpaty Kolovrat and Ryazan-region landscapes, the cadets read verses: “Because I am Russian by spirit, because [ancient] Rus’ is my land, [and] because my mother is a Slav and I was born in Russia….” The audience supports the performers with whistling and stomping, especially after the line, “Dogs are barking now at Mother Russia. Along with her I feel this pain. I’ll grow up, mature, grow strong, and help her.”

Each day’s meetings conclude with a three-hour concert. On May 7, participants from Russia’s Central Federal District put on a previously rehearsed program. In addition to the Ryazan cadets, teenagers from Yaroslavl, Moscow, and the Moscow region take part. The whole meeting includes 43 teams: from Crimea and Krasnodar (in Southern Russia) to Buryatia and the Far East. Four-hundred teenagers between the ages of 14 and 17 passed through a stringent selection process; the ranks of the “Heirs to Victory” are restricted.

For a week and a half, the children live in the camp outside the city of Kazan, participating in competitions for swimming, knife-throwing, fencing, shooting, weightlifting, and races through an obstacle course. Also on the schedule is a “School of Intelligence Analysts,” historical trivia, a lecture entitled “Ukraine, Syria—hybrid war against Russia,” master classes in film production, the art of the sauna, and information wars.

The All-Russian gathering in Tatarstan is the qualifying round for the 14th International (here meaning the countries formerly a part of the USSR) Union, which will take place in August 2016. The five strongest teams will represent Russia there.

Aleksandr Rozenbaum, a member of the military-patriotic group “Storm” from the town of Monino in the Moscow Region, reads poetry from the stage: “He who acts all macho in Rus’, is not a hundred percent real man.” The hall breaks out in laughter and applause.

The teenagers from Monino show off Sambo techniques to the sound of a rap about the Great Patriotic War (what Russians call the Soviet theater of the Second World War). The same moves are demonstrated that evening by at least three teams. Teens in these military-athletic organizations have great reverence for this combat style because it was developed in Russia. “In terms of the performances, the kids had a task: to show themselves, the story of their native region, and its role in the battle against fascism. But how they decide to play that is their own decision,” explains the head of the gathering’s organizing committee, Oleg Bakanach.

Oleg Bakanach is a veteran of the military intelligence special forces and the Soviet Afghan War, the head of the social movement “Valor of the Fatherland,” the publisher of the magazine Soldiers of Russia, and one of the creators of Union. He organized the first congress in 2007 after meeting Vladimir Fedortsov, the president of the military multi-sport federation Rus’ and a former trainer with the State Security Services’ special forces group “Vympel.”

Fedortsov had long been organizing local military-athletic gatherings for youths, and Bakanach suggested that he take the idea to the international level.

“I thought it would be great to bring kids from all over the Union, introduce them to each other, make them friends,” he remembers. “Only I knew immediately that our event would be stronger and better developed than Zarnitsa [“Heat Lightning”—a Soviet military-patriotic game], to which they constantly compare us. Because a person who serves the interests of their country has to do more than just shoot well. For starters, he has to think well, to be educated and cultured.”

The first Union took place in 2007 on Lake Issyk-Kul in Kyrgyzstan. The parliamentary assembly of the Collective Security Treaty Organization (a military alliance of several former Soviet states) helped arrange the gathering, along with the government of Kyrgyzstan. Bakanach and his associates raised a large part of the money on their own.

“It was all built on personal connections, and that’s how it is to this day. It’s true that the last three years we’ve received significant help from the government of Tatarstan. They cover lodging and food, and they make the uniforms. Unfortunately, we don’t encounter the same welcome in all parts of Russia,” Bakanach says.

On several occasions, Russian political parties have also offered the event financial support. The organizers have refused to take it, however, “on principle.”

“Each party has many respectable people, but the interests of the country are above them all,” Bakanach frowns. This year, Union—“Heirs to Victory” was included in a federal program for “patriotic education of citizens of the Russian Federation, 2016-2020.”

In truth, according to Bakanach, this gives them nothing more than prestige; they still have to find sponsors for each event on their own.

Union happens twice a year: first the Russian round, then the international round. One of the organizers is Russia’s Ministry of Defense.

A Military Threat to the EU

“When I heard that our gathering is feared in Europe, I grew even prouder of the fact that I’m here,” says 16-year-old Aziz, a student in a Kazan cadet school.

He describes a video clip shown recently to participants about kids from Lithuania and Latvia who are now forbidden from coming to Union. “Like they are training saboteurs and spies here. Of course we aren’t spies, but better let them respect us and be a little afraid,” says the teenager.

Every participant in the congress had heard that Union—“Heirs to Victory” was considered a military threat to the EU and to NATO.

That news was spread by the organizers among the teens, who joke a lot about it.

In November 2014, Lithuanian prosecutors really did initiate a pretrial investigation into the teachers and students of two Russian-language schools in Vilnius. The reason: their participation in the international gathering for Union—“Heirs to Victory,” which was due to take place in Kyrgyzstan again that year.

A month after the investigation began the schools were subject to searches. Then head of the country’s Department of State Security, Gediminas Grina, called the meeting “militarized,” and claimed the kids there were “stuffed with pro-Russian ideas.” Conservative Lithuanian parliament deputy Mantas Adomenas proposed an amendment to the criminal code that would prevent citizens from cooperation with militarized camps that “belong to enemy or potential enemy states, whether those be Russia or Islamic terrorists.”

The case went no further than those searches, however, and the Lithuanian team again took part in the international competition in 2015.

On April 27, 2016, Latvian President Raimonds Vejonis affirmed changes to criminal law that were designed to counter “hybrid threats to national security.” Under the new law, any activity interpreted by courts to be aiding a foreign government in actions directed against Latvian independence, territorial integrity, and state security are punishable by prison terms of up to five years, fines with probation of up to three years, or mandatory community service.

Bakanach is sure that the Latvian sanctions have already affected participation in Union. Bakanach also says one of the gathering’s organizers, Afghan War veteran Sergei Ivans, who regularly brings Latvian teams to the international competition, is being investigated in a criminal case.

This year Ivans came to Tatarstan for a few days “at his own risk,” says Bakanach.

“We have never and are not saying that the Balts are enemies,” Bakanach explains. “Kids come to us putting in the national clothing of their countries, singing Lithuanian and Latvian songs, waving national flags. Their Russian comrades look at that, learn something new, and are imbued with the idea of the union.”

In his words, teams from Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia want to attend the upcoming international Union and have already trained for it, but as the organizer he himself might have to insist that the children stay home due to possible “repression.”

“We have obtained information that needs to be carefully checked,” Bakanach relates. “It is no secret that the gathering is a sore spot for certain forces outside of Russia, and it’s possible it could be sabotage with the help of…some sort of activities. For us the most important thing is the safety of the kids, and for that reason—if this information is confirmed—we will not hold the international round this year.”

I left you a superpower. Where is it now?

At one of the first international Union meetings, the organizers noted that, in place of the intended friendship of the peoples, the reality is closer to rivalry.

During sports competitions between Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, Tajiks, Estonians, Belarusians, Russians, Ukrainians, and Latvians, kids sometimes crossed over into national insults.

For that reason, since 2010, the Union teams have been mixed.

“The ideology of the congress is to show that our various great-grandfathers fought side-by-side in the army that broke the back of the demon that nearly destroyed Europe,” Fedortsov explains. “At first the kids were apprehensive about being split up and mixed. There were some real crocodile tears—and not only among the girls.”

For 2016, the members of regional teams were again split into ten international squads. “Me, I’m from Nizhnekamsk. And where else would I come across a Yakut [a north Siberian ethnic group]?” reasons Aziz. “But here he and I sit at the same table, and sleep in the same room. I am teaching him Tatar, and he’s teaching me Yakut.”

At the beginning of the gathering, each squad makes up a name for itself. There are the Knights, Alfa, Druzhina [a tsarist-era militia], Berkut [a reference to now disbanded Ukrainian special police—literally a type of eagle], and the Warriors. “Nobody flies higher than the Eagles,” one youngster from that group explains. “And Berkut is also one of the most elite special forces detachments. So that means we’re the elite!”

The Berkut squad leader, 20-year-old Vladislav, reflects on why he likes mixed teams so much: “In the time of the Soviet Union, we were all one unit, everybody helped each other. In the economic sense, that was a lot easier. I am not talking about the rebirth of communism, but I have seen people from Latvia and Estonia who come here in spite of everything. I think that our governments still have the chance to bring back the Union, but if they abandon those attempts now, then it will be really very tough.”

The Warriors' squad leader, 19-year-old Ramazan, agrees, but his attitude is more radical: “I am a supporter of building the Iron Curtain all over again. It was a lot better in the Union, everybody says that. Sure they prohibited religious observation, but then there were no Islamists. I am a follower of Islam myself, and am sure they didn't go after the people who stayed within acceptable bounds. And what’s more—I nearly teared up when I saw one picture: Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin with the caption, ‘I left you as a superpower, where is it now?’”

The dumpsters on the campgrounds are filled with ice cream wrappers. (They sell it from the canteen by the cafeteria.)

Ice cream is the main local currency, and the most effective way of expressing friendship, gratitude, or sympathy.

In their free time, the campers relax in the buildings, on the soccer field, or on the playground. Someone will play the guitar; someone else calls their parents; and, as a rule, mobile phones are given out only for an hour a day. Many discuss the upcoming military tactical exercises. In the morning, the whole camp is awoken to an alert and sent to carry out military training tasks “on the reconnaissance trail.”

“Have you heard that they are supposed to wake us up at four? I’m setting my alarm for 2:30 and won’t be asleep!” a freckled boy says proudly to his friend in a camouflage coat that is clearly too big for him.

Kirill, from Staraia Russa, is 16, a tenth-grader, and—like many of the participants—he's confident that he will attend a military academy after his schooling. “Maybe in some sort of naval [academy], because I love to travel.”

The team from his town trained for a month without days off for this competition: athletic practice, first-aid courses, rigorous classes in history, and rehearsals of their cultural performance.

“I learned a lot of useful things here,” the boy says. “Like they taught us how to throw knives. I mean, an active soldier wouldn’t be throwing knives, but the skill is interesting.”

More than anything at the gathering, Kirill was impressed by the meeting with three-time Olympic Greco-Roman wrestling champion Aleksandr Karelin and the master class from the special forces brigade “Bars.”  The soldiers taught the teenagers to handle machineguns.

“They told interesting stories about their work and their personal lives, but you couldn’t even take pictures of them!” Kirill recounts.

“Also in the master class, they told us we are prized pieces for terrorists,” Kirill’s peer from the same town, Ilya, said seriously. “Because we are already prepared. They’ll promise us the easy life, saying that nobody can touch us or catch us. But in reality they just need people who are ready to go out and die first.”

In response to the question of whether, in their opinion, the camp poses any kind of threat to other states, Ilya and Kirill reply with mature restraint: “Well they have gathered us here, so it isn’t all just for nothing.” Ilya is clearly bored by this conversation with a journalist, so he quickly break off and heads for the canteen to get ice cream.

When we are united, we can’t be defeated

In the first half of the day, the squads have to pass through the obstacle course. First crawling to a straight fence, then climbing over it, dragging logs with the whole team, crawling through “barbed wire” (imitated with red and white safety tape), not hitting the “trip wires” (here signified by semi-translucent threads), hitting the target with an air rifle, then with throwing knives, giving first aid to the “wounded”—all while accruing as few penalties as possible.

“Everything that you see, we’re doing it so these kids will survive,” says Oleg Bakanach, in response to the question of whether it could be done without the military uniforms, training grenades, or master classes from special forces units. “If, God forbid, there is a war, experience and skills are needed,” he continues. “These kids bear a big responsibility, because there is a huge country behind them. You can see what is going on the world; those who would not only nip at Russia, but do it maximum damage are very many. We aren’t calling them to take up arms, we want the kids to learn to create. But if something happens, they have to be able to stand up for themselves.”

In the best tradition of the Soviet-era Zarnitsa, Union has its own anthem. The author of both the music and the lyrics is Vladimir Mazur, a veteran of the Afghan War, a bard, and a laureate of the Festival of Military Song.

Judging by the way the teenagers regularly play the anthem from their mobile phones, they like the song.

The anthem rings out at the end of every evening concert. Four-hundred teenagers in camouflage coats rise in unison from their seats in the Krutushka performance hall, arms around each other's shoulders, and sing:

If not us, then tell us who
Will help themselves and Russia, too?
When we are united, we can’t be defeated,
The peoples of Russia cannot be divided.

This text was translated from Russian by Nicholas Levy.