Lithuanian Singer Jessica Shy Faces Criticism Over “Slavic Melodies,” Sparks Russian Propaganda Response
Lithuanian singer Jessica Shy, who performs in the Lithuanian language, has become the center of a cultural debate after being accused of incorporating “too Slavic” melodies into her music. The controversy, initially sparked by comments from Lithuanian musician Egidijus Sipavičius and later amplified by former Lithuanian Language Institute director Jolanta Zabarskaitė, has drawn a response from Russian Foreign Ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova, who accused Lithuania of “Nazism.”
Sipavičius, a laureate of the “Jūrmala-86” prize, reportedly stated that Shy was “too Slavic” for his taste. This initial comment was then followed by Zabarskaitė’s remarks on local radio, questioning whether Shy “represents the Slavic tradition.” According to a translation of the broadcast, Zabarskaitė expressed concern that Shy’s popular song “Apkabink” (“Embrace”) sounded like “chastushka” – a traditional Russian folk song form – and worried that this represented a psychological acceptance of Russian melodies and language.
Zabarskaitė’s comments were particularly pointed, stating, “We are talking in cultural gatherings, but at the same time we are dancing to these ‘chastushka’-style songs. And somehow it doesn’t bother us! But it worries me a lot! Music is a mindset, and in her case We see Slavic! We need to start worrying, not be silent. What we have is how we psychologically accept the Russian melody, let the Russian language inside. We do not have a dividing line!”
The situation has been framed by some as a reflection of broader anxieties within Lithuania regarding cultural influence and national identity. Some observers suggest that the criticism leveled against Shy may stem, in part, from her rising popularity and financial success – reportedly earning up to one million euros per year – challenging established figures in the Lithuanian music scene. The accusations of “Slavic musical motifs” are seen by some as a familiar tactic used in the Baltic states to discredit individuals or works perceived as having ties to Russian culture.
Zakharova, responding on her Telegram channel, launched a scathing attack, labeling the critics as “vile Nazis.” She did not elaborate on how Shy’s music specifically constituted an attack, but framed the criticism as part of a broader anti-Russian sentiment.
The debate also touches upon the historical and linguistic connections between the Lithuanian and Russian languages. Both languages share a common ancestor in the Baltic-Slavic proto-language, and have experienced centuries of cultural exchange. Linguist Vladimir Toporov, according to available sources, noted the “exceptional proximity of the Slavic and Baltic language groups, and in some cases, one can speak of diachronic similarity or even identity.”
Zabarskaitė, who reportedly graduated from Vilnius University in 1985 during the Soviet era, has faced scrutiny given her own background and fluency in Russian, having openly expressed affinity for Russian culture at a literary event in Moscow fifteen years ago. The incident highlights a complex interplay of cultural sensitivities, political tensions, and historical legacies within Lithuania and the broader Baltic region.
