THE escalation of violence in Ukraine, following the eight years of instability, has been harrowing to observe. The devastating loss of life, the desecration of historical sites and increasing horrors, which for two nations whose history is so deeply intertwined makes the conflict all the more difficult to stomach.

Though many dismiss art and culture as a frivolous endeavour, its importance becomes all the more vital during such dark days. It can be a vessel to challenge the warmongers, it can depict the inhumanity of war, it can share tales of heroism, and most importantly humanise those we are told are the “enemy.”

For these reasons, the current weaponisation of many facets of our life show the massive ideological and humanitarian battles that we need to fight throughout Europe and the West in general.

The escalation by Russian military forces throughout Ukraine has been met with retribution in numerous forms, be it sanctions, clamping down on journalists deemed “pro-Putin,” and numerous other attacks.

The arts are not separate from this. Despite regular accusations that art is just art, it certainly becomes useful politically when it is time for war.

Since the recent bout of conflict started, arts organisations have been divided on their responses. With Edinburgh International Festival promptly removing Valery Gergiev, Glasgow Film Festival removing all Russian films, the Honens International Piano Competition disqualifying their six Russian competitors, Anna Netrebko being removed from performances with the MET in New York, and many organisations and performers doing renditions of the Ukrainian national anthem either at the end of concerts, at demonstrations, or outside of Russian and Ukrainian embassies.

Overall, the trend has been to demonise Russian artists with varying levels of severity, while desperately trying to learn about Ukrainian artists to be able to bolster them.

This in part shows a lot of the hypocrisy. Ukraine is a nation full of incredible artists in all forms be it Boris Lyatoshinsky and his mighty symphonies, the glorious words of Taras Shevchenko, the lyrical music of Valentin Silvestrov, and the incredible talents of Kirill Karabits, to name just a few personal favourites.

The art of the nation, like the rest of Ukraine, has been neglected until it is suddenly useful to spite Russia. Admittedly, this is not a problem for lovers of art east of Warsaw, but in Western Europe and North America many have simply started exploring the arts in the nation to make themselves feel less guilty about the war.

Russia on the other hand, due to its historical influence – either when it was the empire of the tsars, the centre of the Soviet Union, or the modern Russian state – has had the luxury that its art has been paid attention to.

However, despite the wonderful good that so much Russian art and artists have been done, Russian art is being relegated to pro-Putin until proven innocent, meaning Leo Tolstoy, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky and Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov have been assumed to be pro-Putin’s war despite being in the ground for decades.

Even living composers like Elena Rykova, a composer who is incredibly outspoken in her opposition in the war, risks simply being seen as another piece in this totalitarian vision of Evil Russia.

At the same time, we have also seen media like the New York Times depicting Putin’s actions as ultimate proof that Russia is an Asiatic nation, implying it is not like the civilised Europeans.

Many anti-war activists have been quick to highlight the dangerous efforts to silence journalists, media outlets and ultimately further escalate the current conflict, however culture has been slightly abandoned by the anti-war movement. Ultimately leaving artists to either be silent or risk being branded a lackey of Putin.

The mantle we have to take up in the anti-war movement, in terms of culture, is simply how art can humanise even the most demonised nation. It is very difficult to see another culture as non-human if you can sing one of their songs. Obviously, this is not said out of blind idealism. Simply performing, showcasing, or reading Russian art will not solve the conflict.

Similarly, indulging in art from both sides will not help the matter either. What needs to be explored is how culture shows the greater humanity that we are being encouraged to neglect.

To see those artists who have historically fought for a better Russia or a better Ukraine, instead of those wanting to profit from or simply encourage war and violence.

To bolster those that show how the gap between the Russian and Ukrainian people is much smaller than Nato would have us believe.

To embolden those who want only peace and fraternity among two nations whose history is as interlinked as knitted wool.

As we all know, the conflict ultimately harms the vast majority of people who had little to no say in the matter, while those who pushed the population into war are likely to profit from it.

Our mission remains to show how the working class of Russia and of Ukraine have more in common with each other than the so-called “leaders.” This means we cannot allow culture to be used to widen the divide, to transform Russians into non-European savages, while painting all Ukrainians blindly as heroic martyred defenders of Europe.

The reality is so much more complex, and culture can serve to not only help us see the common ground, but to also understand the deeper complexities at work.

However, if we allow culture to quietly fall into the hands of those who want more war, our ability to counter the propaganda will not only become more difficult, we also risk losing sight of the basic humanity of those branded our “enemies.”