Here is a Russian translation of the report about the Dar Prize in the program “Kulturzeit” of the German TV channel “3sat” (link to the video at the end of the text):

“Odessa is a beautiful city, but it is a bit neglected, in poor condition, boarded up in some places. Half-destroyed buildings, crumbling stucco, broken sidewalks - only the tourist attractions look good, just the ones usually depicted on postcards and in guidebooks. But in the mind of a Russian patriot, this is a shining city, a heavenly Odessa, a sacred city that must be taken from the enemy.”

This is an excerpt from Maria Galina's literary diary. She lives in Odessa, where the windows are often taped shut to keep the glass from flying in all directions during Russian drone and missile attacks. 

“The situation is stable: we are shelled every day - that's how stable it is,” Maria Galina writes in Russian. In Odessa, most people grew up bilingual, but since the beginning of the war unleashed by Putin, the Russian language has taken on a distasteful connotation. 

Many people deliberately stopped speaking Russian and switched to Ukrainian because they no longer wanted to use the language of the aggressor. However, in her literary diary, Maria Halyna deliberately described the first year of the war in Russian, although she now mostly speaks Ukrainian in everyday life. 

In the beginning, Russian propaganda justified the invasion of Ukraine, including the need to “protect” the Russian language. “I wanted to show people - and that's why I wrote in Russian - what they are actually doing to us,” she explains. 

“Putin has taken the Russian language hostage,” says Mikhail Shishkin, a Russian writer who has lived in Switzerland for 30 years. Saving the dignity of the Russian language has become his life's mission - just as Thomas Mann once fought for the honor of the German language. He wants to protect the Russian language with a new literary prize. 

“If you do nothing, nothing will happen. But if you start something important, not only for yourself but also for others, then suddenly you get help, support from all sides. And you get so much energy, so much strength - it helps,” he explains. 

Shishkin was once considered one of the leading Russian writers in Russia, but now he is called an enemy of the state there. Now his idea to establish a prize for Russian-language literature has received support from prominent cultural figures. It is also a political prize that condemns Russian aggression. It is open to authors from different countries, such as Belarus, Lithuania, Kazakhstan and Ukraine. 

“This prize is for everyone who writes in Russian, for all readers who read Russian and realize that the Russian language does not belong to a dictator, but is part of world culture,” says Mikhail Shishkin.

The shortlist for the first award season has now been announced, which includes Maria Galina's Ukrainian diary. She wants people in Russia to know the truth about the war. However, her book will never be published in Russia. And even if it were possible, she herself does not want her book to be published in the aggressor country. 

“I was strongly opposed to publishing in Russia, but through my old friend Michael Greenberg, who lives in Israel and runs a publishing house, I had the opportunity to publish the book. This way, it will be able to find its readers - both in Russia and in the Diaspora.” 

“Books need publishers. Books need readers. In Russia, most of us are simply banned and declared 'foreign agents',” says Nikolai Kononov, a Russian writer and journalist who, like many others, now lives in exile. His novel “The Night We Disappeared” has also been shortlisted for the new prize. 

“Of course, the political situation, Russia's crimes have cast a huge shadow over the Russian language. But it is also used by those who oppose the war - it concerns me too.” 

Kononov writes historical novels in a genre that combines fiction and documentary inserts. He shows us a place in Berlin that plays an important role in his book, the so-called “suicide cemetery” in Grünewald, where, at the beginning of the 20th century, dead people who were found were buried, often anonymously. One of the main scenes of his latest novel takes place there. 

His book is about stateless refugees during World War II. “How does the past affect the future? Technically we live in the 21st century, but politically we find ourselves in the 20th,” he says. 

“There is a direct connection: after the Russian aggression against Ukraine began, many Russians found themselves in a similar situation as my characters.” 

One of the heroines of his novel is involved in the Feminist Anti-War Resistance, an initiative of Russian activists. Her tragedy is that she struggles in activism while world powers negotiate behind her back. 

“The same thing is happening now with the fate of Ukraine - the US and Russia are making decisions behind its back,” Kononov explains. 

The new prize is especially important for young or still unknown authors, who have the hardest time right now. New publishers are just starting out. 

The prize does not include a cash award, but is a translation grant. The winning books will be translated into English, French and German to help them reach a wider audience. 

Mikhail Shishkin is convinced: it is the literati who should play a key role in restoring the attitude towards the Russian language. But this role will be possible only when Putin's war - including against his own language - is over. 

“Every war ends someday. And then a bridge will have to be built. But who will build it? Not the politicians. Writers, musicians, artists will do it. And for this future bridge it is already necessary to save the dignity of the Russian language”. 

A new literary prize could be the first step on that path.”

Link to a video report in German