Seseg Jigjitova, an illustrator based in Berlin and hailing from Buryatia in Siberia, has gained recognition as a strong critic of Russian colonial practices and a champion for Buryat rights during the ongoing Russian invasion of Ukraine.
Buryatia is a region that shares a border of more than 1,000 kilometers with Mongolia and is home to just over 970,000 people, including approximately 32% who identify as ethnic Buryats, a Mongolic indigenous group in the area.
This mountainous territory, abundant in natural resources, constitutes 60% of the shoreline of Lake Baikal—the largest freshwater lake in the world. For Indigenous communities along its banks, including the Buryats, Baikal holds profound spiritual significance, yet it faces threats from commercial developers and corporate interests.
First colonized by Russia in the 17th century, Buryats have struggled to maintain their native language and Buddhist traditions in the face of persistent russification efforts from Moscow.
In her forthcoming graphic novel titled “Deep Freeze,” Jigjitova delves into the historical ramifications of Russian colonialism on Buryatia and its peoples, as well as its personal impact on her own family.
The Moscow Times interviewed Jigjitova about her activism, her candid critique of the Russian opposition, and her upcoming book. This interview has been edited for brevity and clarity.
MT: You began your career as an architect and now work as a freelance illustrator. What led you to become an activist?
SJ: My journey into activism wasn’t entirely voluntary. I’m not someone who enjoys being in the spotlight, and public speaking is far from my comfort zone. However, the onset of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine changed everything for me.
I realized that every Buryat voice denouncing the invasion was vital. While many are aware of the disproportionate mobilization and higher death toll among Buryats compared to ethnic Russians, few understand that thousands of Buryats have left Russia in protest of the mobilization, and many activists are actively opposing the war.
With the escalation of the conflict in Ukraine, it became painfully clear that Russia remains unchanged. It has not reevaluated its colonial and racist history, nor has it moved beyond the Soviet ideology or the mindset of Russian superiority.
MT: Can you share some insights about your upcoming book? Is it linked to your activism?
My illustrated book, set to be published first in Russian, is a quest for understanding.
During my student years in Irkutsk in the 1990s, I grappled with numerous questions without finding answers. These long-held questions resurfaced with the onset of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, bringing with them complex responses.
The book weaves together autobiographical stories, family ethnography, and contemplations on tragic historical events that have impacted every Buryat family but rarely receive discussion.
Since Soviet times, and even more so now, the history of Russia taught in schools and universities has focused almost solely on ethnic Russians, their conquests, and their culture.
Fortunately, a growing number of activists, historians, and journalists from Buryatia—many still within Russia—are beginning to explore the omitted chapters of our history. They are reexamining the republic’s past and reclaiming narratives that have been overlooked.
Many young Buryats, even those who didn’t learn their native language while growing up, are now undertaking the effort to learn Buryat. Some Russians in Buryatia are joining in this effort as well, which is encouraging!
MT: You openly critique the Russian opposition. In your years of activism, have you found fellow supporters among Russians, or do you feel Indigenous activists are fighting this battle alone?
There are some allies among Russian civil rights activists and people from countries that have experienced Russian colonization, and even among some Ukrainians who often resonate with our struggles more than many Russians do.
The Russian opposition—of which I once felt part—has shown an inability to engage in critical thinking about historical and present-day matters, and more importantly, has lacked the capacity for self-criticism. Many in the so-called Moscow intelligentsia have long existed in a parallel universe, disconnected from the wider reality of Russia, and they seem to have drifted further from reality since 2022.
While there are frequent calls for unity with the Russian opposition, I believe we need to reconsider what unity means in the context of the Russian Federation. The notion of ‘unity’ promoted through propaganda, and the coerced russification of non-ethnic Russians, has never been genuine.
I often ponder whether any form of unity or internal coalition can occur within Russia without an honest acknowledgment of historical injustices committed by Russia and its earlier states, without addressing a challenging legacy, and without justice for Indigenous peoples.
To achieve real unity, we must confront Russia’s colonial violence and hold both collective and individual responsibility for our roles in failing to prevent the war in Ukraine. Additionally, we need to recognize that the belief in Russian superiority—great Russian chauvinism—has been central to shaping imperial policies and has significantly contributed to the current conflict. Putin is a result of this, rather than its origin.
MT: You have been residing in Germany for two decades. How have you found it when trying to convey the issues faced by non-ethnic Russian citizens in Russia to Europeans?
Most individuals visualize Siberia as a barren landscape akin to the North Pole, populated by dog sleds, even though I’ve never seen a dog sled in my life. In reality, Siberia is a large area home to various ethnic groups who speak Turkic and Mongolic languages, with rich cultural and religious diversity.
Siberia remains a significant blind spot, not only in the minds of Europeans but also among residents of Moscow.
Regrettably, certain German media outlets inadvertently perpetuate a Moscow-centric narrative and exhibit what is known as Berührungsängste (the fear of engaging with sensitive issues). They amplify voices like those of Vladimir Milov, who claims there is no violent russification in Russia, and Vladimir Kara-Murza, who has made some alarming statements before the French Senate.
However, gradual changes are occurring. Some educational institutions in Germany are beginning to reassess their curricula regarding Russia, aiming to reduce clichés and shift away from viewing it solely as a nation of ethnic Russians.
MT: Do you ever envision a future where you could return to Buryatia? What kind of republic would you hope to return to?
The one certainty I feel about the future is that we harbor hope.
I dream of a Buryatia where everyone, regardless of their background, enjoys freedom. A republic where individuals are aware of their fundamental rights, acknowledge and respect its complex history, and live free from Moscow’s repressive grasp. A place where the destiny of the republic is determined solely by its own people.
I am optimistic that the process of gradual decolonization has already begun. As activist Viktoria Maladaeva recently stated, “Many people are now awakening from a colonial slumber.”