The Crimean Tatars, an indigenous people native to the Crimean Peninsula, have endured centuries of persecution and forced displacement following Russia’s 1783 annexation. This legacy of oppression continues today, forcing many to live in exile. Among them is Elmaz Asan, a journalist and scholar who arrived in Cambridge in 2022. I sat down with her to learn more about her invaluable work, which aims to raise awareness about the often-overlooked realities of life in Crimea.

Asan’s personal history is deeply intertwined with her family’s experiences, marked by her grandmother’s forced exile in 1944. “She was 13, if I’m not mistaken,” Asan recalls, describing it as “a big tragedy for them” since they lost many of their friends and neighbours. During the illegal annexation, the Crimean Tatars were accused of collaboration with the Nazis, with the Soviet Union using this falsified narrative as a reason to deport them. These distressing invasions had an unimaginable impact on the Crimean Tatars; Asan recounts how her grandmother died from a heart attack one year after the 2014 Russian occupation, whilst her grandmother’s sister “who was a witness of this genocide, lost her memory because of the stress”.

“Asan was born in exile, and her childhood was marked by her family’s dedication to their return to Crimea”

Like her grandparents, Asan was born in exile, and her childhood was marked by her family’s dedication to their return to Crimea. She remembers once asking her father for some Uzbek pie, something he refused, explaining that they “now have to try to save money and invest in the national movement to return to Crimea”.

Finally arriving in Crimea aged 16 was surreal for Asan, who had “dreamt about it [her] whole life”. “In Uzbekistan, there was a 10 minute radio programme once a week, and we would hug this radio because it was the Crimean Tatar language and music.” This brief but powerful connection to their identity made her family happy, providing a sense of belonging and hope during years of exile.

Yet, after the collapse of the Soviet Union which brought about mass returns to Crimea, many difficulties remained for the Crimean Tatars as they “started life from scratch”. Discrimination affected all aspects of life; for example, their houses were demolished by the local authorities. “Finding a proper job was impossible because of your nationality,” Asan reveals, and “emergency services wouldn’t come because of your surname”. This systemic prejudice underscored the harsh reality of returning to a place that had not only rejected them, but actively sought to erase their presence.

Nevertheless, this oppression couldn’t erode the spirit of the Crimean Tatars who restored the country from 1991 until 2014 by creating channels, museums, and libraries. Even in the face of repression, the Crimean Tatars refuse to be silenced. The younger generation too, despite living under Russian occupation, “realise what Russia really is because of their parents”. Here, Asan is clear about the importance of personal testimonies for strengthening resistance to the tyrannical regime.

“I feel I will definitely return and live in Crimea, and not only me, but all of us”

Asan describes her time as a journalist for ATR (a TV channel targeted towards Crimean Tatars) in Crimea as “the happiest time,” but following the 2014 annexation, ATR had to relocate to Kyiv. Previously, the channel’s focus had been the restoration of language, culture, and architecture in Crimea; but now they turned to covering arrests, political prisoners, and the unfolding situation in Crimea. For Asan, “it was again about resistance”.

Asan has created many documentaries to spotlight “people who opened the pathway to Crimea”. She remembers one heartbreaking story in which “a young family returned to Crimea and registered as Crimean Tatars. When their child was born, he died in hospital,” and the family suspected foul play. The father then told local authorities, “my son’s body is in Crimea, and my body will also be in Crimea”. Asan was moved by this narrative as it demonstrates “how important it is for us to live in Crimea in spite of different obstacles”.

Currently, she continues her research in Cambridge, stressing her gratitude for the numerous sources now available to her. We were “deprived as a nation to learn about our history,” she explains, as their story was “rewritten by Russians”. In Cambridge, she is focusing on British travellers’ accounts, and notes their sympathy towards the Crimean Tatars. She emphasises what an incredible opportunity it is to “make Crimean history part of global history”.

Indeed, Asan observes the limited public understanding about Crimea, and hopes for a shift in awareness. She remembers how “we screamed and we asked the world to stop this, but no one heard us”. “Every day we try to inform the world about what happened in Crimea,” she tells me, “but it’s very painful when the world doesn’t understand”. In order to tackle this, Asan envisages establishing Crimean Tatar studies as a branch within Ukrainian studies. Not only will it help to educate individuals about the long history of the Crimean Tatars, but Asan also believes “it would help to stop the genocidal politics in Crimea”.

Asan is clear that “it’s not Russian land. It never was, and it never will be”. In spite of Russia’s incessant propaganda machine, she asserts that “Russia cannot conquer our minds”. “I’ve dedicated all my life to Crimea,” she explains, “and I feel I will definitely return and live in Crimea, and not only me, but all of us”.