Elena Kostyuchenko Brings Global Journalism and Resistance to Duke

Exiled Russian journalist Elena Kostyuchenko was invited to Duke was under the shadow of catastrophe. She remembers the moment vividly. 

“It was the day that [Russian opposition leader] Alexei Navalny was murdered,” she said. “I was at the Slavic conference in Las Vegas. Everybody was crying. I was crying. It was quite messed up.” 

Kostyuchenko, who is no stranger to attacks from the Kremlin, was getting ready to present on her book, “I Love Russia: Reporting from a Lost Country.”  The talk that followed morphed into something else. Instead of a conventional book presentation, she shifted toward collective processing. 

“I tried to move it to some kind of discussion and sharing as soon as possible, because people in the audience really needed it,” she said. 

Initially, Kostyuchenko was invited to Duke to give a talk about her book, but that turned into an offer to become a visiting lecturer in the department of Slavic and Eurasian Studies.

Kostyuchenko now believes that that moment set the tone for what her time at Duke would become: less about performance and more about shared reckoning. 

The invitation came after her talk, from Slavic and Eurasian Studies lecturing fellow Darina Smirnova, who was in attendance. Despite the heavy emotions of the day, Kostyuchenko is glad she accepted. “I can definitely say Duke has been my favorite campus to visit so far.” 

Kostyuchenko is spending the academic year as a visiting lecturer in the department, teaching two courses and building new initiatives that bring together journalism, activism and students across disciplines. 

During the fall semester, she focused on events rather than formal teaching, organizing a two‑week series joint with the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill that gathered activists involved in meaningful activities against authoritarian states. There were talks, art workshops, and seminars on writing letters to political prisoners. 

The speakers included journalists, artists, lawyers and human rights defenders from around the world. “What these people shared with us was priceless,” Kostyuchenko said.  However, she realized the series wouldn’t be documented and its insights could be lost. 

 That realization led her to what she now calls the “resistance lab,” an evolving project she hopes will become an archive of activist knowledge. 

“Many practices surrounding resistance are being forgotten,” she said. “This can lead to societies facing authoritarian tendencies for the first time having to invent the bicycle again.” She said that with documentation, societies can see what has worked or hasn’t worked elsewhere and avoid repeating mistakes. 

“Many practices surrounding resistance are being forgotten.”

Video interviews, she argues, are essential. “Video preserves more than audio,” she said, “and it’s easily convertible. You can post to TikTok or social media. I don’t want this knowledge to just stay in academia.” 

This spring, Kostyuchenko is teaching two courses that reflect her commitment to literature and reporting. 

“Literature of Ongoing Catastrophe” examines contemporary writing from Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. 

“Catastrophe destroys every tie and every connection it can, including some standard narratives,” she said. “You try to describe what you can and can’t see, but language simply isn’t fit for that.”

The class asks what happens when catastrophe is not an isolated event but a condition that lasts for years on end. “What if it’s not just one day to survive?”  Kostyuchenko asked. “What if it’s a month, a year, four years?” 

Her other course, “Contemporary Reportage,” is where her extensive journalistic background comes into play. 

Kostyuchenko continues to teach and mentor students in Russia as well and noted how differently she approaches those students. 

“There is a war in Russia right now, so these students need different skills than students at Duke,” she said. For her, that means sharing not only professional insight but lived experience. “I’m trying to be open about my experience, not just smart things I came up with, but also my mistakes, because I made plenty.” 

Kostyuchenko is blunt about her skepticism toward journalism education. “I don’t believe that journalism is a real profession,” she tells her students. “It’s more like a trade or a craft.” 

Universities, she said, cannot create journalists. “Anyone can be a journalist. It’s super simple stuff, you just have to do it. Anyone has the right to ask a question.” 

What she sees as her role is offering “shortcuts” rather than credentials. 

“I’m not giving you a profession,” she said. “I’m giving you some shortcuts.” The core lesson, she insisted, is fearlessness. “The main trick we as journalists possess is not be afraid of other people. There are no stupid questions. There are questions that people don’t want to answer.” 

Much of Kostyuchenko teaching centers on cultivating curiosity. 

“Look at what irritates you,” she said. “Look at what pisses you off or makes you laugh or makes you cry.” Those reactions, she believes, are what are the beginning of meaningful reporting. “If something pisses us off, most likely our reader is going to be pissed off too.” 

“If something pisses us off, most likely our reader is going to be pissed off too.” 

For Kostyuchenko, teaching at Duke is not an escape from journalism but an extension of what she did back in Russia, even if she’s far away from home, and even if the stakes are different. “In the moment of social disturbance,” she tells her students. “Don’t look for the enemies around you. Look for who’s shaking the jar.”