SIMFEROPOL – Crimeans woke up to an uncertain future on Monday after a referendum that raises the prospect of months-long economic turmoil and a legal vacuum ahead of a planned merger with Russia.
As the notes of Russia’s national anthem died down after blasting out over crowds of thousands in the streets of Crimea on Sunday, locals were left scratching their heads over a vote that turns their region into something of a pariah.
Unrecognized by most of the international community except Russia, Crimea is now expected to gradually transition to direct Russian rule but no one knows exactly how or when.
“I like my habits, my routines. It frightens me a little… We’ll see,” said 70-year-old Anna Ivanovna, who voted to leave Ukraine and join Russia.
Crimea’s pro-Moscow leader Sergiy Aksyonov has repeatedly assured residents that transition to Russian rule will be simple and he plans to introduce the ruble from this week alongside the Ukrainian hryvnia for around six months.
But Crimeans are not so confident and there has been a run on the banks, with many rushing to take money out of their accounts – especially at branches of Ukrainian national banks that might now be shut down.
Crimea depends on the rest of Ukraine for electricity, heating and water so basic services could also be affected should Kiev take the implications of Crimea’s self-determination to their logical conclusion and cut supplies.
In any case, the decision will be up to Moscow where the parliament has yet to approve a law allowing the territories of foreign countries to join Russia.
‘Full of emotions’
In the interval between leaving Ukraine and tying up with its former Soviet master, Crimea will function de facto independently and Aksyonov has said it can easily survive economically – with help from Russia.
What will happen to Ukrainian military bases and the thousands of personnel who live there is another pressing issue – as are security concerns among the native Tatars, who make up around 12 percent of Crimea’s population of two million people.
Memories of the mass deportations organised under Moscow’s Soviet rule in the 1940s are still fresh in the Muslim Turkic-speaking minority community.
“I’m full of emotions. I thought that other countries would support us. I feel sad about what’s happening now,” said 28-year-old Seytkhalin.
“We were just getting back on our feet even though no one helped us.”
Even the most fervent advocates of union with Russia admit the path ahead is unclear and Aksyonov has said that formal secession could take up to a year.
“Life does not change that quickly. There will be a lot of technical, political and economic issues to resolve,” Valery Medvedev, an official at a polling station in the historic port city of Sevastopol, said on Sunday.
Natalya said she was living in “anxiety” but was more optimistic.
“I am hoping for a brighter future,” said the 35-year-old law graduate and housewife mother of two children.
“I studied Ukrainian laws but I’m not against learning something new. I think everything will sort itself out,” she said.