Manizha Mania

On March 8, International Women’s Day, the Tajik-born Russian singer Manizha beat out two other acts for the honor of representing Russia at the 2021 Eurovision Song Contest, to be held in Rotterdam in May. That Manizha, whose songs confront gender and ethnic stereotypes in distinctly untraditional ways, was chosen by public text voting says something important about the power of music to transcend societal barriers. At the same time, the backlash against her victory on social media from some sectors of the Russian public illustrates the persistence of xenophobia.

Manizha was born in Dushanbe, Tajikistan, in July 1991. Her family emigrated to Russia in 1994, settling in Moscow as civil war tore her native country apart. Despite long ties between Russia and the states of Central Asia – especially 70 years together in the Soviet Union – racism has long persisted. Meanwhile, in both Russia and Tajikistan feminism is seen as a dirty word. Manizha breaks multiple barriers.

Central Asians in Russia: More Than Just DIrty Jobs

While there are many Central Asians living and working in Russia, they are heavily associated with the annual flow of low-skilled migrant workers, many working in dirty and dangerous jobs from street cleaning to construction and agriculture. As of November 2020, the official number of Central Asian migrant workers in Russia stood at 1.8 million. The true figure is larger, factoring in migrants from countries (including most of Central Asia) who enter under visa-free regimes but illegally take up work.

Despite the Soviet Union’s strident professions of equality across gender and ethnic lines, which Russia inherited, Central Asians often occupy a second-class tier in the federation. Look no further than Alexey Navalny, a Russian opposition politician and activist whose global image has only grown as Moscow’s attempts to silence him have intensified. Navalny, a genuine source of opposition to Russian President Vladimir Putin, nevertheless has a history of discriminatory comments about Central Asians in the country. In tapping into nationalistic sentiments to boost his opposition position, Navalny aligned with anti-immigrant discourse, too.

In a 2017 interview, when asked why he wanted to impose a visa system for Kazakh citizens, while at the same time asking Germany to allow Russian citizens in visa-free, Navalny responded, “I see that people from Central Asian countries come to Russia, and I don’t see anything valuable in this.”

That Central Asians are perceived by some in Russia to be lacking value, or worse to be stealing jobs from Russians (Americans will hear echos of the anti-immigrant discourse in the United States in this), runs counter to reality.

The coronavirus busted the migrants-stealing-jobs myth wide open. With millions of Central Asian migrant workers unable to enter Russia due to border closures that persist, Russia is facing a labor crisis. According to a Moscow Times report in February, Russia is planning to simplify entry requirements for migrant workers specifically to alleviate damaging shortages of labor experienced in the construction and agriculture sectors. This comes after years of tightening restrictions; for example, the 2012 institution of a Russian language and history test for migrants.

Manizha’s victory in Russia’s Eurovision national final dovetails with this realization that Central Asians do contribute to the development of Russian society, via both hard labor and art. Unsurprisingly, some Russians commented negatively on social media about her victory, proving that the road ahead is still long. Others complained directly to Russian state authorities about the content of her winning song, alleging it contained “anti-Russian” values.

Manizha: A Russian Woman?

The song Manizha will be taking the stage in Rotterdam to sing is titled “Russian Woman” and like her 2020 hit “НЕДОСЛАВЯНКА” (Nedoslavyanka – “Not Quite Slavic Woman”), it mocks gender stereotypes.

In an interview with Eurovision.tv, Manizha said, “This is a song about the transformation of a woman’s self-awareness over the past few centuries in Russia.” She goes on to say that “A Russian woman has gone an amazing way from a peasant hut to the right to elect and be elected (one of the first in the world), from factory workshops to space flights.” The song makes light of the societal belief (not just in Russia) that women should have children before the age of 30, and stereotypes related to what they should eat and how they should dress.

In her performance on Russia’s state-run Channel One before the text vote, Manizha took the stage with a colorful headscarf and a heavily embroidered coat, covered in Central Asian suzani motifs. She tossed the coat off as the song picked up steam, revealing red coveralls with “Рашн Wуман” on the back (Cyrillic characters that sounds like “Russian Woman” in English when sounded out, though it’s not how either of those words are spelled in proper Russian).

In the main chorus, one set of lyrics is in English. In the live performance the line went: “Every Russian woman needs to know / You’re strong enough to bounce against the wall.” But in the studio version released on March 19, Manizha sings “Every Russian woman needs to know / You’re strong enough, you’re gonna break the wall.”

An earlier Manizha music video was accompanied by the release of an app targeted toward providing women suffering from domestic violence with resources. She collaborated with a male director, as Colleen Wood wrote last year, “to reach beyond female audiences to have an effect on attitudes toward domestic violence.”

Manizha’s gender informs her music, as does her ethnicity. She is unmistakably and unabashedly Tajik. She often wears Tajik clothing, even as she raps in Russian. The 2020 music video for “НЕДОСЛАВЯНКА” firmly encapsulated this duality, and the cover for the “Russian Woman” single features the singer in a traditional Tajik coat, from a Dushanbe designer.

Colleen Wood explained the “НЕДОСЛАВЯНКА” video at the time:

In the video, Manizha and a woman in gold coin paranja embark on a roadtrip with a track suit-clad driver; their journey is interrupted by a ninja who ambushes the car and steals Manizha’s unibrow. The trio appeal to a detective (also played by Manizha) who is busy working other cases brought forward by Central Asians who have lost various possessions, material and otherwise. “The villain stole my husband’s tubeteika [a traditional Central Asian hat] and now he won’t do our national dances because he’s embarrassed!” one woman, wearing a white headscarf ubiquitous among young Kyrgyz brides, cries.

The detective has a lightbulb moment and cracks the case, shifting the video into its climax: Manizha fights the ninja thief and recovers a briefcase full of passports and Central Asian textiles. Finally, the camera cuts to a field where the ninja is standing. They pull off their mask to reveal that Manizha herself was the culture-thief the whole time.

The over-the-top video put on display a sentiment than arguably many share: Central Asians who have lived entire lives in Russia nevertheless are not fully accepted, while in the old country they don’t fit in either. One of the magical aspects of music is its power to meld cultures and to use rhythm and tone to say more than is said.

In the outgoing chorus of “НЕДОСЛАВЯНКА,” backup singers repeat: “On native land I was a stranger in a strange land.” As the song culminates, Manizha’s chants of “I am, I am, I’m an emigrant” rise, overpowering the chorus.

When she takes the stage in the Netherlands next month, this is the baggage and the banner she carries: A not-quite-Slavic Russian woman singing for all Russian women, perhaps even all women.