Ukraine at 20

August 29, 2011

David Marples

Twenty years ago, the Ukrainian parliament declared independence, following a failed putsch in Moscow. The dramatic move virtually guaranteed the end of the Soviet Union, as Mikhail Gorbachev admitted. It also raised hopes that the new state of 52 million people would emerge as a democratic and strong country through its strategic location in central Europe.

The late 1980s saw a cultural revival and a popular movement led by leading writers who spearheaded the move to independence. Catalyzed by the USSR’s failure to respond to the 1986 Chornobyl disaster, it revisited “blank spots” of the past, such as the tragic famine of 1932-33 and Stalin’s purges. Fueled by activists from a plethora of informal associations—environmental, political, and religious—it signaled real hope for Ukraine, a resource-rich country endowed with valuable agricultural land. The future seemed bright.

However, two decades of independence have brought deep disappointment. Ukrainian intellectuals are virtually falling over each other with cynical remarks about the rates of corruption, alcoholism, infectious diseases, and lack of freedoms (see Mykola Riabchuk’s article on this site).

Conversely, Western analysts seem slightly more upbeat, if only because they compare Ukraine favorably with other former states of the USSR like Russia and Belarus, or the monolithic dictatorships of Central Asia. Despite difficulties, the economy has returned to positive growth. And, the mere fact of survival is an achievement, the longest period of independence in Ukrainian history.

It is impossible, however, to avoid an impression of fading optimism.

On the eve of Independence Day, the government banned any public demonstrations other than the official celebration.

Yulia Tymoshenko, a former prime minister and a co-leader of the 2004 Orange Revolution, remains on trial for making a 2008 gas deal with Russia, despite coming down with a debilitating illness. Her onetime ally and former president Viktor Yushchenko testified against her at the trial, further testimony to the disintegration of the democratic forces.

The president, Viktor Yanukovych, has filled the cabinet with cronies from the Donbas, few of whom even speak Ukrainian. He appears every inch the Soviet bureaucrat, thuggish and vindictive, and actively using the security forces against his enemies.

The failure to live up to early expectations can be attributed to several factors.

First, there were inevitable teething problems. The parliamentary chair, Leonid Kravchuk, former ideological secretary of the Communist Party, became Ukraine’s first president on December 1, 1991. By declaring independence on August 24, the Communists managed to retain power and remained strong during the following years, paralyzing government and opposing their former mentor, Kravchuk.

Second, Ukraine’s eastern cities were a stronghold of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Nikita Khrushchev made his political career in Donetsk; Leonid Brezhnev was born in Kamenskoe—today known as Dniprodzerzhinsk after the founder of the Soviet secret police (latterly the KGB), Felix Dzerzhinsky.

These cities fought for supremacy after independence, struggling for control of vital resources in coal mining, ferrous metallurgy, and chemicals. The Dnipropetrovsk group triumphed in the mid-90s with Prime Minister Pavlo Lazarenko and his Deputy Energy Minister Tymoshenko. But the notoriously corrupt Lazarenko looted an estimated $200 million from Ukraine in 1996-97 and was eventually tried and convicted in USA.

Today it is the Donetsk group that wields power. It suffered a severe setback with the Orange triumph, but the leniency of the Yushchenko presidency ensured its recovery. There is a notable continuity from former Soviet bosses to the current “clan” leaders of the region. Backed by magnates like Rinat Akhmetov, the Yanukovych regime is interested in empowerment rather than democratic ideals. Above all it wishes to prevent a return to the Orange movement of 2004.

Third, and crucially, the Yushchenko presidency (2005-10) became mired in fractious disputes and failed to build on the energy created in the streets of Kyiv. Not only did it avoid addressing corruption, it failed to bring to trial the main transgressors, and restored Yanukovych to eminence by, improbably, making him Prime Minister in August 2006.

Fourth, neither the European Union nor Russia under Putin and Medvedev has supported Ukraine adequately. The EU failed to live up to its promises for early membership during the Orange Revolution, whereas Russia started a war over gas prices with the Yushchenko administration, and today is an uncomfortable and intrusive neighbor that seeks much tighter integration with Kyiv.

Critically, the government of Ukraine has failed to enunciate a national vision for Ukraine. On the contrary, Yanukovych and his associates encourage regionalism, divisions, and extremism in order to pose as the voice of moderation. The growing authoritarianism poses a serious threat to democracy that can no longer be ignored by European leaders or by Ukrainians themselves.

This article appeared simultaneously in the Edmonton Journal, Ottawa Citizen, and Vancouver Province, 24 August 2011


Ukraine after 20 Years: the Glass is still Half-Empty

August 22, 2011

Mykola Riabchuk

Ukrainian Independence Day is still an event that evokes a flood of articles, memoirs, speeches, and debates in the national mass media, sometimes pathetic and pompous, but in most cases embittered, frustrated and utterly sarcastic.

Oleksandr Irvanets, a renowned Ukrainian writer, very popular inter alia through his ad hoc poetical parodies, produced a sham “ode” with the explicit dedication to the national Independence Day – “Our Victory” [http://www.ut.net.ua/Columns/50/5793]. The bogus ode is composed of poetical clichés borrowed from both the socialist realist and nationalist writing of the “heroic” genre. This combination is pretty funny in itself but the main comic effect comes from the names of “heroes” inserted within the “ode” and from their purported “national-liberation” activity. All the names represent the so-called Ukrainian elite – the top politicians and oligarchs who in fact had never dreamed about any kind of national independence (some of them actually worked within the ancien regime to suppress it) but who, ironically, appear to be the main, if not only, beneficiaries of Ukraine’s independent statehood.

Lina Kostenko, another prominent Ukrainian writer, published a scornful feuilleton “Dress Ranks to the Podium!” in which she mockingly suggested substituting the traditional military parade with a carnival procession of all the corrupt officials, judges, and other government folk who have ripped and pillaged the country over the past twenty years. All four Ukrainian presidents, she suggested, should stand at the podium greeting the parade and displaying on their chests the list of who ceded and wasted what over the past two decades – “either nuclear weapons, or the Black Sea Fleet, or national industry and strategic objects, or the Orange revolution, or the entire country” [хто що здав за ці 20 років. Хто флот і ядерну зброю, хто промисловість і стратегічні об’єкти, хто помаранчеву революцію, хто взагалі Україну] [http://www.day.kiev.ua/214296].

The reputable Dzerkalo tyzhnia weekly (“Mirror Weekly”) commemorated the jubilee with a number of articles headed by graphic titles such as “Twenty Years of Solitude,” “Twenty Years of Discontent,” or merely featuring Ukraine’s place in various international rankings: no. 1 in the world for alcoholism among children, no.1 in Europe for the spread of HIV, no. 2 among IMF’s biggest borrowers ($12.66 billion debt), no. 5 for the biggest suppliers of emigrants (6.6 million people have left the country since independence – nearly 15% of today’s population), no. 5 in the world for alcohol consumption, no. 7 for computer piracy, no. 10 for the number of prisoners (334 per 100,000 people), no. 69 (among 169 surveyed) on the human development index, no. 73 (out of 192) for quality of life, no. 110 (out of 177) for prosperity, no. 131 for freedom of speech, no. 134 (out of 180) for corruption, no. 164 (out of 179) for economic freedom, no. 181 (out of 183) for the simplicity of taxpaying procedures (an average Ukrainian entrepreneur, according to the World Bank data, spends 657 hours annually filing tax-related documents and settling business issues) [http://dt.ua/articles/86389].

Either deliberately or by coincidence, the same issue of Dzerkalo tyzhnia features an overoptimistic article by the Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovych himself. Here, he trumpets Ukraine’s “European choice” and commitment to “European values,” boasts about large-scale reforms and anti-corruption measures, and professes, on behalf of the government, the highest respect for the national constitution and rule of law [http://dt.ua/articles/86421]. As a speech writer’s product it seems pretty good but the reality resonates differently. All the “reforms” to date have noticeably improved the well-being of the president’s friendly oligarchs and brought misery to the life of the common people; all the “anti-corruption measures” so far, have resulted in the persecution of opposition figures under dubious charges and in a higher than ever corruption and lawlessness within the president’s inner circle; all the “respect for the constitution” is demonstrated by multiple violations of its clauses in the most blatant way since Yanukovych’s accession to power. The hard fact is that under his leadership Ukraine has dropped in numerous international rankings – including in political and economic freedoms, administrative efficacy, and quality of life.

Remarkably, it is foreigners rather than Ukrainian citizens who express some optimism about Ukraine’s development in their comments. Steven Pifer, a former American ambassador to Ukraine, believes that the emergence of a national identity spanning all of Ukraine is among the country’s key achievements of the last two decades. “In eastern Ukraine it may not be quite as thick as it is in the west, but I think most Ukrainians now see Ukraine as an independent state and whatever issues they are going to face, they want to resolve those issues as a Ukrainian state” [http://www.rferl.org/content/russia_soviet_union_august_1991_coup_yeltsin_gorbachev/24301212.html].

Matthew Rojansky, director of the Carnegie Endowment’s Russia and Eurasia Program, agrees, according to the same source, that the most significant change in the post-Soviet republics was has been “the creation and re-establishment and re-creation of new, independent identities,”, “which includes seeking to differentiate themselves from Russia even when people had been very heavily Russified and economies had been heavily Sovietized.” Ukraine, he contends, stands prominently among those countries in which a new generation of leaders has emerged that “has confidence in democracy and is willing to source its power from their electorates rather than from chummy relations with Moscow.” In this regard, he considers the wave of colored revolutions in Georgia, Ukraine, and Kyrgyzstan as an important development in the right direction, “a sign of the generational weakening of the sociopolitical legacies of the Soviet experience.”

And Alexander Motyl, in his recent blog on Ukraine’s Independence Day, envisions, rather unexpectedly, the country’s bright future despite the fact that the Ukrainian rulers, in his own terms, are just a bunch of greedy and incompetent thugs who captured the state (the view actually is not so unique and extravagant since Ukrainian publicists often describe Yanukovych’s clan as a “Donetsk mafia” meaning not necessarily a deliberate insult but, rather, the pedigree and the way in which the inner circle of the Party of Regions is organized). Motyl believes, nonetheheless, that these people are doomed to Europeanize/modernize Ukraine despite themselves, i.e., notwithstanding their entire set of beliefs, habits, and basic instincts. They simply have no choice: “Unfortunately for Ukraine’s current mafia, their thuggish godfather to the north is stronger than they are… Vladimir Putin’s Russia knows no bounds on its appetites toward Ukraine… If you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. If you give them a mile, they’ll take ten. Jeeze, what’s a poor Ukrainian capo to do? The answer is obvious: go straight. Get rid of those black shirts and wide lapels, stop smoking cigars and packing heat, cut your fingernails, brush your hair, buy yourself a nice house and mow the lawn, start a respectable business, and join a country club, preferably in Brussels” [http://www.worldaffairsjournal.org/new/blogs/motyl/Ukraine_Turns_20].

“Oh, and one more thing,” Motyl suggests acerbically, “Declare Putin and his sidekick Dmitri Medvedev Heroes of Ukraine. They deserve it. Their thuggishness might just make Ukraine fully independent.”

Whatever the reason for optimism and/or pessimism about Ukraine, the main difference between the two approaches stems not so much from different views of Ukraine and its internal developments, but rather from different views of the context within which the country is placed. The “pessimists” consider Ukraine as a part of Europe and gauge it against the experience of much more advanced western neighbors. The “optimists” still perceive it primarily as a “Eurasian” state, which is definitely more advanced in many regards than virtually all its post-Soviet brethren. It is still like a glass of water that can be considered either half-full or half-empty, depending on the predisposition of the speaker.

The “pessimists” seem to be right about Ukraine’s present, whereas the “optimists” may be right about its future. To be sure, the incumbent regime is no friend of Europe, democracy, freedom of speech, and fair economic competition. Russian-style authoritarianism or Belarus-style dictatorship would have been their most favored system of government. Yet they lack resources to afford the former and are too vulnerable to inevitable international sanctions to move toward the latter. And to make bad things worse, they lead a restive society that may require even more resources than Russia has to bribe it, and more coercion than Lukashenko applies to ensure it is pacified.

So, the paradoxical shift of the staunch authoritarians toward Europe and therefore toward European practices envisioned by Motyl cannot be excluded. Yanukovych’s speech signals this possibility not only by multiple references to “our European choice” but also by a carefully worded resentment vis-à-vis Moscow: “The past years have proved undeniably that good neighborly relations with Russia are possible only if they are based on an equal balance of national interests and the mutual respect of both sides for each other. The state and its leadership will do everything they can to construct such a balance.” Diplomatic niceties aside, the statement means that Ukraine cannot perform a friendship dance alone, and that Russia should show equal respect for Ukraine and its national interests.

Of course, there is a long and sometimes insurmountable distance between words and deeds, intentions and practices. Even if the Ukrainian “mafia,” under domestic and international pressure, decides ultimately to follow Motyl’s advice – to get rid of bad habits and start a respectable business, – it might be a very difficult task, as the last part of “Godfather” illustrates graphically. Third-party enforcement (or at least arbitration) in such a transition might be the key factor. But it is not very clear whether the European Union is ready and able to play the sort of role in Ukraine that it played successfully in the Balkans.

If such a shift happens – as seemed likely after the Orange revolution – we may call the Ukrainian glass half-full. So far, alas, it remains half-empty.


Gas Fuels Ukraine’s Political Strife

August 15, 2011

David Marples

Former Ukrainian prime minister Yulia Tymoshenko is on trial in Kyiv for negotiating a gas deal with Russia two years ago that was allegedly unfavorable to Ukraine. Last week she was hauled off to jail for her behavior in the courtroom, which included refusing to stand when the judge entered the room and verbally abusing some of the witnesses, including current prime minister Nikolai Azarov for speaking in Russian.

International opinion has condemned the administration of President Viktor Yanukovych for what appears to be a politically based trial. One analyst commented that with this trial the Ukrainian government has “crossed the Rubicon” in its slide from democracy to authoritarianism.

These issues are less clear-cut than they seem.

On the face of it the charges are far-fetched. Tymoshenko negotiated a deal as head of the Ukrainian government. Moreover, it ended an impasse with Russia that had led to cutoffs of gas supplies to several European countries in successive winters. However, the background is considerably more complicated.

Several issues are involved: conditions for the sale of gas; the price of gas; the nature of the relationship between Russia and Ukraine; and the bitter personal rivalry between the president of Ukraine and the leader of the opposition.

The essence of the 2008-09 talks between Russia’s Gazprom and Ukraine’s Naftohaz was to eliminate the middleman, in the shape of Dmytro Firtash, who reaped a fortune through his company RosUkrEnergo, which had acquired the right under former president Viktor Yushchenko to purchase gas from Russia and resell it to Ukraine. Tymoshenko justifiably considered such an intermediary superfluous and even dangerous.

At the beginning of 2009, the Ukrainian delegation walked out of the talks on the demand of Yushchenko. However, Tymoshenko then led a personal mission and a contract was signed on Jan. 19. But once she lost her position as prime minister, Firtash was reinstalled, ironically under Yushchenko’s former 2004 rival and new president, Yanukovych.

By the agreement of Jan. 19, Russia and Ukraine established a fixed price of gas until 2020 of $450 per thousand cubic meters. At the time the price seemed accurate. Today it seems inflated and shackling. It is much higher than the price at which Russia sells gas to other countries of Europe, for example.

In April 2010, Yanukovych met with Russian President Dmitry Medvedev to discuss the deal. The revised version linked the sale of gas to prolonging the stay of the Russian Black Sea Fleet in Sevastopol. It lowered the price below the world level, but Russia has consistently requested further talks on the issue.

Herein lies another issue, namely the relationship between Russia and Ukraine. Yanukovych is often accused of selling out Ukraine’s interests to Russia. In fact, he is clinging onto Naftohaz for dear life, while the Russians are constantly demanding its merger with Gazprom. The Tymoshenko deal is often the Russians’ starting point for new discussions.

In late July, Russia cancelled plans for Medvedev to attend a naval parade in Sevastopol after the Ukrainian government rejected another proposal to merge the two gas companies. However, Moscow has since explored another avenue, namely revisiting the issue of the Russian-Ukrainian border.

Although ostensibly the border between Russia and Ukraine was guaranteed by former Russian president Boris Yeltsin back in November 1990, neither Medvedev nor Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin has accepted this as definitive. The stumbling block is the border in the area of Kerch and the Azov Sea, which Russia would like to declare “open water.”

The diplomatic maneuvering is not very subtle: if Ukraine comes to the table to discuss a merger of Naftohaz and Gazprom — in reality a virtual takeover by the Russian company — then the border question can be quietly dropped. Given the current Russian leadership’s penchant for re-examining the issue of borders — after the war in Georgia three years ago it recognized two breakaway “republics” of South Ossetia and Abkhazia—the Ukrainians have to tread very carefully indeed.

None of these events should detract from the unpleasantness of the Yanukovych administration, but there is no question that his government has an reasonable desire to distance itself from the expensive gas deal negotiated in early 2009. Instead, it faces a loud and well-coordinated sideshow on the part of the ebullient Tymoshenko, who found time before her arrest to make her case on a YouTube video. Like the astute politician she is, she has exploited an opportunity to pose as a martyr for Ukrainian democracy, thereby reigniting what seemed to be a fading political future.

No doubt she deserves that chance and Ukraine can only benefit from a stronger opposition. On the other hand, the external danger is equally obvious and will only increase if the EU turns against Ukraine, as it has done against Belarus in recent months.

Thus far, the Ukrainian government has avoided commitment to Russia’s customs union (known as the Common Economic Space). But pressure is building. In the fall, a meeting of the Russia-Ukraine interstate commission will take place. During his meeting with Yanukovych at Sochi earlier this month, Medvedev made the following comment: “If you don’t mind, we’ll talk about whether Ukraine finds it reasonable to be part of any alliance with Russia.”

Under these circumstances, the stupidity of trying to remove Tymoshenko and her 2009 gas deal from the equation is understandable, if not forgivable.

This article appeared originally in the EDMONTON JOURNAL, 15 August 2011.


Erroneous Methods in J.-P. Himka’s Challenge to “Ukrainian Myths”

August 7, 2011

Roman Serbyn

For some time now, Professor John-Paul Himka has been campaigning against what he calls “Ukrainian myths about traumatic aspects of the twentieth-century.” On 28 March 2011, he explained his chosen mission in his address at the University of Alberta. An abridged version of his text can be found on the Internet under the title “Interventions: Challenging the Myths of Twentieth-Century Ukrainian History” . Regrettably, what Himka has produced in this article is not a good history of the tragic events, and his analysis of the myths that they engendered is flawed. His paper is not helping to set the historical record straight, nor does it contribute to the formulation of positive myths of national consolidation, crucial for newly independent states like Ukraine. Himka’s approach tends to reinforce anti-Ukrainian mythologies.

Himka feels that, both as an academic and a public intellectual, he has a responsibility and a moral duty to challenge what he regards as myths, and because of his “self-identification as a Ukrainian”, he can do it “from the inside.” The two “core myths,” as Himka sees them, that have become the objects of his indignation are: (a) the claim that the Ukrainian famine of 1933 was genocide, and (b) the denial that OUN and UPA participated in the Holocaust. What bothers the historian is that these myths are instrumentalized and exploited in tandem. Himka complains: “The genocide argument is used to buttress another campaign, to glorify the anticommunist resistance of the Ukrainian nationalists during World War II.” Since he regards the nationalists, i.e., OUN and UPA, as being implicated in the Holocaust, he considers their glorification unacceptable. Rejecting the nationalist (in his opinion) view of Ukrainian history, Himka concludes that “a revisionist treatment” is “not only appropriate, but obligatory.”

If Himka’s presentation gives the impression of a déjà vu, déjà entendu – there are good reasons for it. Anybody who remembers the Soviet war on the Ukrainian diaspora in the 1980s will recall Douglas Tottle’s Fraud, Famine and Fascism: The Ukrainian Genocide Myth from Hitler to Harvard (Toronto, 1987). Tottle’s pseudo-scholarly treatise left a similar impression. Only his accusations were more blatant and thoroughly mendacious with regard to the Soviet famines of 1921–23 and 1932–33. With Soviet aid, and echoing Soviet propaganda, Tottle accused Ukrainian nationalists of criminally collaborating with the “fascists” and then fleeing to the West where, as refugees, they promoted the myth of a man-made famine in Ukraine in order to deflect attention from their own crimes and to gain sympathy as victims of Communism. Unlike the Soviet propagandists, but like Himka today, Tottle did not deny the famine: the gradual opening of Soviet archives was making that argument untenable. The similarity in Tottle’s and Himka’s positions resides in their rejection of the Ukrainian genocide and their paramount interest in the Ukrainian involvement in the Holocaust.

Calling on his training as a historian, Himka writes: “Once I took up the project of clarifying the history of the Holocaust, I submitted the topic [to – RS] the usual disciplinary procedures, which include researching in primary sources and rethinking in relation to existing research.” In line with such sound scholarship, he pledges to “uncover the truth,” because “truth is a value in and of itself”. These are laudable qualities. What is regrettable, however, is that the author, despite linking the two issues in tandem, seems to pursue only one of the two selected “myths”—the wartime activities of the OUN and UPA.

Himka gives no assurance of the same attention to the Ukrainian genocide. He tells us that his interest in the famine flowed out of his work on the Holocaust, and seems to keep it limited to that initial motivation. Thus, while he has conducted “a number of undergraduate and graduate seminars on the Holocaust,” he only led one seminar on the famine of 1932–33. He gives no indication that he has done extensive archival research on the Ukrainian genocide or even read the main published documents and scholarly literature on the subject. His claim, therefore, that he exposed his students to different perspectives and “tried to find the best presentations of the varying points of view” rings somewhat hollow, especially after one learns from his course outline that the first seminar meeting was devoted to Tottle’s fraudulent book. Lemkin’s seminal article on the Ukrainian genocide did not even figure in the course bibliography. Himka’s accusation that his opponents have avoided “serious and honest confrontation” with his arguments or “with the sources on which they rest” seem to be a mirror image of his own attitude in the Ukrainian genocide debate.

Himka’s essay deals with facts and ideas (interpretation, definitions, and conceptualizations) about “holocaust,” “Holodomor,” “genocide,” and “myth.” All of these subjects demand a rigorous methodological approach and precise formulation. Unfortunately Himka often treats his facts and ideas loosely, evasively, and irresponsibly. It may be, as he admits, that writing short texts results in oversimplification and that they tend to be sloppier. Since it is only 3,500 words maybe one should indeed be more indulgent when criticizing Himka’s essay. But it seems to me that the author must honor his claim of rigorous truth-seeking scholarship and profound inside knowledge of Ukrainian realities. I do not think that these qualities are reflected in such statements as the following two examples: “While Yushchenko pursued his campaign to have every country recognize the famine of 1932-33 as a genocide, he [was – RS] simultaneously suppressing the history of the other genocide, the Holocaust.” The accusation against Yushchenko’s suppression of the history or the commemoration of the Holocaust is serious: it reflects badly not only on the president of Ukraine, but also on that country’s national policy. Unless Himka can show that such state policy actually existed, he is contributing to the creation of an anti-Ukrainian myth.

In another passage, Himka leaves it to the reader to guess whether or not there were Jewish doctors in the UPA: “The myth maintains that Jews served as doctors in UPA, and therefore UPA rescued, rather than killed, Jews.” A logical interpretation of this sentence leads to the conclusion that since the UPA killed Jews, there could not have been any Jews in its ranks. Other historians, however, claim otherwise. Was it to dissimulate these and other ambiguities and apparent falsities in his text that Himka offers this confusing explanation: “In speaking of the views I oppose as mythologies, I do not always mean to make truth claims”?

The Holodomor—History or Myth?

Before answering the question whether the Holodomor should be considered a genocide in fact or a myth, it is necessary to clarify the terms we are using—“the Holodomor” “genocide,” and “myth.”

Himka fails to elaborate on the meaning of “Holodomor” and “genocide,” and he only makes a cursory comment about his use of the term “myth.” Since he does not define genocide, we are left unaware whether Himka accepts Lemkin’s comprehensive definition of the Ukrainian genocide as a four-pronged attack by the Communist regime against the Ukrainian nation. He defines myths as “unexamined components of an ideologized version of history.” In other words, he does not distinguish myths from history, but considers myths to be bad history, which are used for an unworthy purpose. By contrast, the Oxford online dictionary gives other usages of myth: “an exaggerated or idealized conception of a person or thing,” and makes no connection with history. Similarly, in the Merriam-Webster dictionary we read: “a popular belief or tradition […] embodying the ideals and institutions of a society or segment of society.” It follows that myths are not history, and that all myths are not bad or necessarily used in a harmful way. There is an interesting online literature on the positive characteristics and beneficial uses of myths. Genocides, including the Holocaust and the Holodomor, have been written up in good and bad historical narratives and also have become overgrown with a lot of mythology. Some of the myths are noxious and some benign. The mythical elements accompanying the Holocaust and the Holodomor do not impinge on their characterization as genocides. That qualification depends on other criteria.

On the issue of the Ukrainian genocide, Himka writes: “In the mythicized version, Stalin unleashed the famine deliberately in order to kill Ukrainians in mass and thus to prevent them from achieving their aspirations to establish a national state. I, however, point out that the precondition for the famine was the reckless collectivization drive, which almost destroyed Soviet agriculture as a whole. […] My somewhat more nuanced view is a problem for the mythologists, who want the world to recognize that the famine, or as they call it – the Holodomor, was a genocide as defined by the United Nations in 1948” (emphasis added – R.S.) Contrary to Lemkin’s definition, Himka erroneously limits the notion of genocide to the starvation of Ukrainian peasants, and so he has a conceptual problem with the Holodomor.

The “more nuanced view” that Himka offers for explaining the famine is the specious argument that “the precondition for the famine was the reckless collectivization drive, which almost destroyed Soviet agriculture as a whole.” In other words, the starvation was caused by collectivization, which was the same throughout the Soviet Union.

There are two problems with his argument. First, as Himka himself admits, there were local and specific conditions in Ukraine: “particularly severe measures applied in those regions.” The famine there “was connected with a major offensive against perceived nationalism in the [C]ommunist [P]arty of Ukraine”; as a result “the famine in Soviet Ukraine and in the Ukrainian-inhabited Kuban region of Soviet Russia was more intense than elsewhere in the Soviet Union.” Himka even quotes a clause from the UN Convention on Genocide to show that “what happened in Ukraine in 1932-33 could fit” the description in the document.

Second, Soviet documents show that collectivization and the opposition to it did not reduce the quantity of cereals and other food products in the USSR to below famine levels. Students of Soviet economic history agree that in 1932 and 1933 the USSR had enough foodstuffs to feed the whole population. It was only necessary to stop confiscating all grain and other foodstuffs, open the stockpiled reserves, stop exporting, and accept offers of aid from abroad. Soviet documents—the law of 7 August 1932 that condemned peasants to death for “stealing” from the fields the grain they sowed, and Stalin’s letter to Kaganovich, written four days later, in which he anticipates the famine (“the moment things get worse”) warns of the possibility of a revolt and the loss of Ukraine. Detailed, comprehensive reports from Ukraine by Bolshevik leaders and GPU functionaries before and after the “five ears of corn law” clearly show that it was Stalin and the Communist regime that unleashed the famine with a conscious intent and precise motives.

Himka has a problem with the term Holodomor (“as they call it”). He could have gotten a better idea of the word and the concept if he had tried to understand it by analogy with the Holocaust, of which he is an expert. When the term “holocaust,” whose basic meaning is sacrificial offering by immolation, is capitalized and preceded by the definite article, it refers to the genocide against the Jews. In a similar way, the Holodomor has evolved beyond its original sense of forced starvation and now embraces the notion of a Soviet-led genocide against the Ukrainians. Himka’s shortcoming here is his insistence on treating the Holodomor according to the old peasantist interpretation (intentional starvation of the peasantry). He fails to see what Raphael Lemkin saw 68 years ago— namely, that the famine was only one component of the genocidal acts that the Soviet regime perpetrated against the Ukrainian nation.

Himka is right to affirm that “whether the famine constituted a genocide is a matter of interpretation.” But he fails to explain the criteria on which the interpretation must be based. The only generally accepted definition of genocide, which provides such criteria, is the 1948 UN Convention on Genocide. Article II declares that genocide means “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such.” Himka does not like the document because it only recognizes four groups and “excludes victims of social and political murder.” That may be a valid criticism, but it is irrelevant to the question of the Ukrainian genocide. The (partial) destruction indicated in the document applies to ethnic Ukrainians as a national group in general, of which the peasants form an integral part not according to their socio-economic function but to their national-ethnic characteristics.

Raphael Lemkin, who in 1943 coined the term “genocide” and conceptualized the crime it connoted, and later was instrumental in getting it adopted by the UN General Assembly, had no difficulty in applying the UN definition to what happened in Ukraine. In 1953, five years after the declaration of the UN Convention on Genocide, and on the occasion of the twentieth anniversary of the Great Famine, Lemkin addressed a 3,000-strong audience at the Manhattan Center in New York with an allocution entitled “Soviet Genocide in Ukraine.” This Polish legal expert of Jewish origin elaborated his analysis within the parameters of the UN Convention. He described it as a four-pronged attack by the Communist regime against the Ukrainian nation, with the intent to destroy (1) the intelligentsia (“the national brain”), (2) the national churches (“the soul of Ukraine”), (3) the independent peasants (“the repository of the tradition, folklore and music, the national language and literature, the national spirit of Ukraine”), and (4) the cohesion of the Ukrainian people by forced in- and out-migration with the aim of changing the republic’s ethnic composition by reducing the number of ethnic Ukrainians and increasing the number of non-Ukrainians, particularly Russians. It cannot be stressed enough that in his conceptualization of the Ukrainian genocide Lemkin avoided the “peasantist interpretation” still prevalent among both genocide deniers (Terry Martin) and genocide promoters (Norman Naimark). Instead, he treated the peasants as part of the ethnic and national group, not as a social category.

If Himka had taken Lemkin’s outline and filled it with data provided by newly released Soviet documentation, he would have realized that the destruction of the Ukrainian national intelligentsia and elites of all sorts began in 1929 and 1930, with the arrests and show trial of the so-called Union for the Liberation of Ukraine (SVU). It continued with the purges of real and imaginary “nationalists” within various state administrations, which culminated in the “great purges” of the second half of the 1930s. A similar analysis of documentary sources shows the destruction of much of Ukrainian cultural and spiritual life (the church, literature, scholarship, theater, language, and so on). The ethnic mixing of the population, reported by foreign observers who visited Ukraine towards the end of the famine, is corroborated by official and other Soviet documents. If Himka had more than a tangential interest in the Holodomor, he would also be interested in the fate of the eight million ethnic Ukrainians in the RSFSR (according to the Soviet census of 1926) who were subjected to the state policy of physical and cultural destruction. This genocidal act should be added to the Lemkin list as a fifth prong of Stalin’s destructive policy towards the Ukrainian nation.

Perhaps the most bizarre and morally objectionable part of Himka’s article is the reasoning behind his opposition to the Ukrainian community’s effort to secure recognition for the Ukrainian genocide. Himka does not see it as a legitimate campaign for historical justice for the victims, but rather as a political and ideological gimmick to glorify the struggle of the OUN and the UPA and blame the Jews for the famine. To bolster his argument he invokes irrelevant and misleading affirmations, such as the claim that the campaign “finds its greatest resonance in the area of Ukraine where there was no famine, and in the overseas diaspora deriving from that region.” First, the argument is irrelevant: the recognition of a crime as genocide is contingent on objective criteria and not on the geographical distribution of its popular support. Second, the history of the Ukrainian genocide’s affirmation is quite different from what Himka insinuates.

While taboo in Soviet Ukraine, the first promoters and pioneers of famine studies in the diaspora in the immediate postwar decade originated from the regions where the famine took place in central and eastern Ukraine. They were: Semen Pidhainy, Dmytro Solovei, Fedir Pigido, S. Stariv, Yar Slavutych, Vsevolod Holubnychy, Ivan Maistrenko, and others; and it was the younger generation of “easterners” – Oleh Pidhainy, Marco Carynnyk, and others who were most active in researching and writing in English about the famine. In Soviet Ukraine in the late 1980s, during the glasnost period, it was the “eastern” survivors and their descendants who first raised the question of the Ukrainian famine in the USSR. Since then, most of the publications on the subject in independent Ukraine have been produced by scholars and journalists whose roots are in the Holodomor-affected regions.

As for the present, stronger, support in western Ukraine and the diaspora, Himka knows the historical and political reasons why and how popular memory on the famine was dulled in the more Russified and Sovietized eastern and southern regions of Ukraine, and why it survived better in the western parts of Ukraine and the North American diaspora (which came mostly from western Ukraine).

Most of the people who have been actively promoting the recognition of the Holodomor as genocide and have embraced the heritage of Ukrainian struggle for independence against Communist Russia and Nazi Germany would probably be offended if they read Professor Himka’s insinuation against Ukrainian attitudes towards the victims of the Holodomor and the Holocaust. There are various fringe elements in the North American Ukrainian community to whom some of Himka’s reproaches should be legitimately addressed. Every community has these people, but serious scholars don’t take marginal elements for the main body of the community or minority views as representative of the community. Most Ukrainians do not behave the way Himka insinuates that they do. They do not engage in “competing victimology” and are not “galled” by the fact that the widely accepted numbers for the victims of the Holodomor are lower than those of the Holocaust. They do not spout “anger at Russians and Jews” in their “genocide campaign.”

Contrary to Himka’s claim, the Ukrainian community has every right to “be calling on the world to empathize with the victims of the famine.” This right is unconditional, and it belongs to the victim group of every genocide or mass atrocity. To suggest, as Himka does, that it is subject to some sort of reciprocal expression of feeling towards the victims of other criminal activity is casuistic. This is not to overlook the fact that thousands of Ukrainians helped Jews during the war (Yad Vashem attests to that). The help that Jews received from the Ukrainian population during the war is praiseworthy. Many Ukrainians risked their lives saving or trying to save Jews. Those who hid Anne Frank in Holland were not even arrested, while Ukrainians lost their lives when caught hiding Jews. Contrary to Himka’s insinuation, many if not most of the Ukrainians who “embraced the heritage of the wartime nationalists” empathize with the victims of the Holocaust.

I find Himka’s opposition to “the campaign for recognition as genocide [my emphasis – R.S.]” of the Holodomor, on the pretence that it is being used to “glorify the anticommunist resistance of the Ukrainian nationalists during World War II,” a casuistic argument against recognizing the Ukrainian genocide itself. The instrumentalization of a historical event does not change the nature of the event. The Nazis exposed Soviet crimes (the starvation of Ukrainians and the Katyn massacres of Poles) in a propaganda war against the Soviets, yet no one will now say that these crimes cannot be recognized because the Nazis used them for ideological and political purposes.

The OUN, the UPA, and the Holocaust in the Modern Ukrainian National Myth

A fundamental methodological flaw in Himka’s discussion of the OUN, the UPA, and the Holocaust is his failure to distinguish between history and myth, and then to see their respective roles in the Ukrainian heritage of World War II. Had he done so, he might have come up with a more nuanced and more truthful rendering of the events and of the safeguarding of their memory by the Ukrainian community. As a Holocaust scholar, Himka must be well versed in the literature on the role of heritage in the Jewish tradition. “History tells […] how things came to be as they are. Heritage passes on exclusive myths of origin and continuance, endowing a select group with prestige and common purpose” (Beth S. Wenger, History Lessons: The Creation of American Jewish Heritage, p. 19, quoting David Lowenthal). History has a duty to discover and explain the past in a truthful way; the goal of myths is to fashion desired attitudes about the past for the future. We evaluate history by its adherence to veracity; myths are judged by their usefulness and their morality – by the righteousness of the cause they advocate. History sins by commission and omission; myths cannot be blamed for what they do not say.

It is in the nature of national heritage, composed of history and myths, to elevate and idealize the past. There is nothing wrong, Himka’s claim notwithstanding, with “glorifying the anticommunist resistance of the Ukrainian nationalists during World War II.” It is right to praise people who sacrificed their lives for national independence and freedom from foreign tyranny. It would be wrong only if the glorification discourse contained malevolent messages. Himka complains: “Defenders of the mythical history often circulate fabricated memoirs of a non-existent Jewish woman who served in UPA.” Yet, there is nothing wrong with the idea of a Jewish woman serving in the UPA; as part of Ukrainian mythology it promotes positive Ukrainian-Jewish relations. Verification of veracity belongs to the discipline of history not the domain of mythology. The point is that rather than calling the story “mythical history,” one should distinguish whether it is presented as a mythical or historical discourse, and then evaluate it accordingly. If the story is presented as history and is then proven to be a fabrication, it should be rejected as historical falsification.

Himka criticizes President Yushchenko for embracing the “OUN-UPA-Holodomor” identity and pushing it on the Ukrainian public. What Himka fails to see is that the Ukrainian politician was attempting positive heritage making. We are dealing here with what can be called consolidation myths. Since the breakup of the Soviet Union two basic myths have been operating in Ukraine, seeking to consolidate post-Soviet formations according to opposing principles. One is centred in Russia but enjoys strong support among pro-Russian segments of Ukrainian society. This myth promotes the idea of a common “Russian World” (russkii mir), of which the Ukrainians are supposed to be an integral part even if, for the time being, Ukraine and Russia are separated by what the myth holds as “artificial” state boundaries. The most aggressive promoters of the “Russian World” idea are the Russian state authorities (see the speeches at the recent Vladimir conference on the upcoming celebrations of the 1,150th anniversary of the foundation of Russian statehood at ). Its most vocal and outspoken advocate is the patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church (see the recent visit of Patriarch Kirill to Kyiv to celebrate the 1,023d anniversary of the baptism of “Russia” at ). Among the ideological underpinnings of this myth are: the idea of a common historical experience, stretching from Kyivan Rus’ to the “Great Fatherland War” of 1941-45, the Russian language that everyone understands in Ukraine, and the Orthodox Church, which necessarily must be under the Moscow patriarch.

At the beginning of his term in office, President Yushchenko tried to counter this imperialist myth encroachment on Ukrainian sovereignty by promoting Ukraine-unifying myths founded on specifically Ukrainian traditions and historical experiences. One was to be the Holodomor, or the man-made famine of the 1930s that decimated Ukraine and whose memory has survived in all parts of Ukraine. The other component of the projected integrating myth was the movement for national liberation, embodied by the OUN and the UPA, whose members and supporters fought against both totalitarian empires—Hitler’s Third Reich and Stalin’s Soviet Union. What is often overlooked is the fact that Yushchenko’s recognition of the UPA was not in opposition or to the detriment of the veterans of the Red Army. His ambition was to reconcile the veterans of the Red Army and the UPA. This fostering of a shared Ukrainian heritage was a noble one. What Yushchenko can be reproached with is not having brought into the project the Ukrainian veterans of the Waffen SS Division Halychyna and other units of the armed forces of the Axis powers. Even this limited project did not succeed because of insufficient understanding and support within Ukrainian society, especially among its ruling elites.

After just one term in office, Yushchenko lost the presidential elections. This was a serious blow to the historical heritage that his administration was promoting. Himka suggests that the defeat had something to do with a divided historical memory and Yushchenko’s handling of it. He is right. President Yanukovych, Yushchenko’s successor, and his supporters have “pushed the opposite perspective,” and the current official promotion of this “historical-identity” is very harmful for Ukraine.

I agree with Himka’s analysis of the malady but not with the cure, when he proposes “the deconstruction of the historical mythologies of both camps.” There are four problems with his suggestion. First, the war of the myths is not an internal Ukrainian war: on the one side are the pro-Ukrainian citizens of Ukraine and the pro-Ukrainian part of the Ukrainian diaspora; on the other side are the pro-Russian citizens of Ukraine, pro-Russian emigrants from Ukraine (of various ethnic backgrounds), and, most importantly, the Russian state and church authorities. Second, even if the two sides in Ukraine heeded Himka’s advice and gave up their struggle, it is most certain that Russia (the state and the Russian Orthodox Church) would not abandon its policy of promoting the imperialist “Russian World.” Deconstruction of the two mythologies in Ukraine would thus open the floodgates to myths coming from Russia. Third, the two camps are not struggling for the same space. Ukrainocentric myths focus on a distinct Ukrainian entity, while the Russocentric idea is predicated on the old imperial model of Russia, of which Ukraine would be an integral part. Fourth, myths can play a highly constructive role in the life of communities and help with nation and state building. Ukraine needs the leaven of good and healthy historical myths.

At present, pro-Ukrainian myths are being attacked from many quarters, and the efforts to discredit them seem to be gaining in strength. In Ukraine itself, not to speak of Russia, state and church structures seem overly favorable to some form of the “Russian world” myth. With the weakening of Ukrainocentric myths, citizens of Ukraine will be drawn into the orbit of the myth-rich “Russian World.” As György Schöpflin notes, “’Through myth the assimilation of ethnically different groups is accelerated, as the myth-poor community accepts that upward social mobility demands the abandonment of its culture, language and myth-world in exchange for something superior, for a better world” (George Schöpflin in Hosking and Schöpflin, Myths and Nationhood, 22). Himka’s participation in the discussion of Ukrainian myths is a contribution to the impoverishment of pro-Ukrainian myths and the strengthening of the “Russian World” myths.

Now let us turn from myths to history. Professor Himka quotes his university motto: “Quaecumque vera—whatsoever things are true.” He is welcome to apply that principle in his historical analysis of the OUN and the UPA, their struggle for the independence of Ukraine, and their participation in criminal activities. The only proviso is that the truth be obtained from adequate documents that provide sufficient information for a complete and comprehensive interpretation. In this regard, a few remarks should be made about Himka’s text. He affirms that the “UPA launched a massive cleansing action against the Polish population of Volhynia and later Galicia, in which perhaps a hundred thousand Poles perished.” Unfortunately, the author does not give the context in which these killings took place, nor any account of the atrocities committed by the Polish side. This is not to relativize the two sides of the conflict, but there were two sides and an objective historical rendering of the events must take both of them into account. Himka’s one-sided presentation of the event is more in the style of myth-making than historical analysis.

I also have a problem with Himka’s story line on the OUN involvement in the Holocaust. It is not a nuanced version of what happened. He attributes the 1941 pogrom of Jews in Lviv solely to the OUN; he does not mention the involvement of common criminals and the action of ordinary citizens of Polish and Ukrainian background provoked by the revelation of massacred victims in Soviet prisons. Himka claims that the Jew-hunting militias were connected to the OUN, that these militiamen formed the nucleus of the UPA in 1943, and that until the end of the war they lured surviving Jews out of hiding in order to execute them. Thus, he states, the “UPA killed at least thousands of Jews” and the “OUN was implicated in the murder of tens of thousands of Jews.” The only side of Ukrainian-Jewish relations that Himka presents is that of the extermination of Jews by Ukrainians. A fundamental question arises: can all the cases of killings of Jews be classified as part of a genocide (the Holocaust), as defined by the UN Convention? Another question: what about the Ukrainians who saved Jews? Himka does not mention them or the humanitarian work of the Ukrainian clergy. This is not what one would call a “quaecumque vera” account, a complete and balanced rendering of Ukrainian-Jewish relations during the war.

In his section on the “strategies” for the dissemination of his ideas, Himka declares his happiness at discovering “the power of short pieces” because they are more widely read, especially when they are posted on the Internet. He states that traditional academic publications take long to write, sometimes even longer to be published, and have limited audiences. We have seen that Himka acknowledged the fact that “short pieces” tend to be sloppier and are prone to error and oversimplification. The text under discussion here would seem to belong to the category of a short work by a public intellectual. As the adage goes, “The problem with being a public intellectual is you get more and more public and less and less intellectual.” Academic rigor and integrity, proper to scholars, tend to be more relaxed in public intellectuals writing goal-oriented short pieces. Historical writing can easily take on mythical coloring. This is what, I’m afraid, has been happening with some of Himka’s writing as he discards his professorial toga and heads for the limelight of the public intellectual. I was sorry to see his name under the infamous 2011 Open Letter, even though he was only a contributor to its redaction and not its author. I have commented on that piece elsewhere and will not do so here. I mention it only because the line of argument is similar and the results are equally harmful to the legitimate right of Ukraine to have a constructive, foundational national myth.

As a scholar of Jewish history, Himka is well aware that there are positive Jewish historical myths about the Jewish struggle for a national homeland and on the Jewish genocide, which are honored by Jews around the world. He also knows about anti-Jewish myths on both these subjects, developed to undermine the very existence of the Israeli state and denigrate the memory of the Holocaust. It seems to me that Himka does not object to the first and does not condone the second. I fail to understand why he cannot take a similar attitude towards the myths surrounding the Soviet Ukrainian genocide and the Ukrainian struggle for independence (in particular during World War II). If he is serious about “clarifying the history of the Holocaust in Ukraine,” he must know that it cannot be done in isolation from its general context and that his partisan treatment of the subject only contributes to strengthening anti-Ukrainian myths about Ukrainian-Jewish relations.

Ending on a personal note

My longest and fondest memories of John-Paul Himka are from the 1983 McMaster University Conference on “Ukrainian-Jewish Relations in Historical Perspective.” At that time we both knew much less about Ukrainian-Jewish relations than we know today, and that was probably one reason why our impressions of them, as I recall, were much closer. Since then we have both challenged, in our respective ways, what we thought was not right in the writings on Ukrainian history, both by Ukrainians and non-Ukrainians. We have also disagreed and argued, usually orally and privately, when meeting at conferences. This is my first public comment about his ideas. I trust he will appreciate my frankness and sincerity. The choice to respond to my observations or not is his. He insists that he has a Ukrainian identity, and is an academic and a public intellectual who enjoys challenges. I think his biggest challenge at this point is to determine how to combine and distinguish his two vocations and fulfill them faithfully in accordance with his enunciated principles.


Interventions: Challenging the Myths of Twentieth-Century Ukrainian History

August 7, 2011

John-Paul Himka
Department of History and Classics
Winner of the J. Gordin Kaplan Award for Research Excellence University of Alberta
Text based on an address delivered at the 2nd annual Celebration of Research and Creative Work Faculty of Arts, 28 March 2011

Recently I was asked by the historian Alexei Miller to reflect on my experiences in the capacity of public intellectual as well as academic, namely as a challenger of nationalist historical myths. He was putting together a volume on Geschichtspolitik and thought that a first-hand account of resistance to dominant national narratives would be an interesting piece to include in the book. I have abridged this account and thought it would make a good talk for an occasion like this, for a talk about research and its implications.

What I have been challenging is Ukrainian myths about traumatic aspects of the twentieth-century.1 By myths here I mean unexamined components of an ideologized version of history, articles of faith more than of reason. In this talk, I will first try to explain my motivations for challenging such myths, even though I realized it would cause considerable discomfort both to my targeted audience and to me personally. Then I will describe and evaluate the strategies I chose for my interventions. But before proceeding to the body of this talk, it is necessary to explain what myths I have been challenging.

One of the areas of contention is the interpretation of the great famine that racked Ukraine in 1932-33. In the mythicized version, Stalin unleashed the famine deliberately in order to kill Ukrainians in mass and thus to prevent them from achieving their aspirations to establish a national state. I, however, point out that the precondition for the famine was the reckless collectivization drive, which almost destroyed Soviet agriculture as a whole. I do not deny that the famine in Soviet Ukraine and in the Ukrainian-inhabited Kuban region of Soviet Russia was more intense than elsewhere in the Soviet Union, that its intensity resulted from particularly severe measures applied to Ukraine and the Kuban, and that the severity was connected with a major offensive against perceived nationalism in the communist party of Ukraine. My somewhat more nuanced view is a problem for the mythologists, who want the world to recognize that the famine, or as they call it–the Holodomor–was a genocide as defined by the United Nations in 1948. This campaign became Ukrainian state policy during the presidency of Viktor Yushchenko (2005-10). Although I do think that what happened in Ukraine in 1932-33 could fit under the capacious UN definition (“…deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life, calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part…”), I oppose the campaign for recognition as genocide for a number of reasons. The genocide argument is used to buttress another campaign, to glorify the anticommunist resistance of the Ukrainian nationalists during World War II. I do not think that Ukrainians who embrace the heritage of the wartime nationalists should be calling on the world to empathize with the victims of the famine if they are not able to empathize with the victims of the nationalists. I think, further, that there is something wrong with a campaign that finds its greatest resonance in the area of Ukraine where there was no famine, and in the overseas diaspora deriving from that region. I have problems with all the anger at Russians and Jews that gets wrapped up in the genocide campaign. And I also have problems with the UN definition itself, which excludes victims of social and political mass murder and has become a category for political manipulation.

I also have been critical of the use of inflated numbers for the tally of the famine’s victims: president Yushchenko and his Ukrainian Institute of National Memory insisted it was ten million, while overseas diaspora organizations have been using seven to ten million. None of these figures can be justified by demographic data, which indicates an excess mortality in Ukraine in 1932-33 somewhere between 2.6 and 3.9 million. What galls the mythologists is that these numbers are less than the number usually used for the Jewish Holocaust, and having a number bigger than six million is important to them. I have also been active in exposing how this kind of competing victimology is used to justify the violence of radical Ukrainian nationalists during World War II.

My interest in the famine flowed out of my work on another moment in Ukraine’s traumatic history, the second large theme of my interventions and challenges–the Holocaust. The fundamental point of contention between the adherents of the national myth and me is whether or not the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (hereafter OUN) and its armed force, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (hereafter UPA, from its Ukrainian initials) participated in the Holocaust. They deny this entirely. My research indicates, however, as does the research of scholars around the world, that the participation was significant.

In the summer of 1941, as the Germans invaded Ukraine, militias connected with OUN organized several massive pogroms against the Jewish population, notably in Lviv. The militias arrested and beat Jews, abused Jewish women, and rounded up Jews for the Germans to shoot. In many other localities in the regions of Galicia and Volhynia, the militias did not organize pogrom-like public spectacles, but arrested Jews and either shot them themselves or handed them over to the German or Romanian authorities to shoot. Altogether in this phase, OUN was implicated in the murder of tens of thousands of Jews.

After this wave of mass violence subsided, and the Germans began a more systematic liquidation of the Jewish population, OUN sent many of its members into police units in German service. OUN did not do this in order to kill Jews–it had other reasons, but these Ukrainian police served as important implements of the Final Solution in Ukraine and Belarus, particularly in rounding up Jews for execution. In this way OUN members became involved in hundreds of thousands of murders.

Then in spring 1943 thousands of these Ukrainian policemen deserted their posts with their weapons and formed the nucleus of the OUN-led UPA. The preparation of such an action was among the reasons why OUN had sent its men into the police in the first place. UPA launched a massive ethnic cleansing action against the Polish population of Volhynia and later Galicia, in which perhaps a hundred thousand Poles perished. (The slaughter of the Poles is well documented, but the national mythologizers downplay it.) While killing Poles, the soldiers of UPA also routinely killed any Jewish survivors that they encountered. As the Red Army approached in the winter of 1944, UPA and separate OUN security forces lured Jews out of hiding in the woods, then enrolled them in labor camps, and later killed them systematically. Overall, UPA killed at least thousands of Jews. The myth maintains that Jews served as doctors in UPA, and therefore UPA rescued, rather than killed, Jews. Defenders of the mythical history often circulate fabricated memoirs of a non-existent Jewish woman who served in UPA.

In speaking of the views I oppose as mythologies, I do not always mean to make truth claims. Whether OUN organized pogroms and how many people perished in the famine are indeed about questions of fact, and my contentions can be verified without much difficulty; but whether the famine constituted a genocide is a matter of interpretation; and whether one should campaign for its recognition as a genocide is rather a political and moral issue.

Motivations of Intervention

My decision to intervene on these issues is partly just a result of my training as a historian. Once I took up the project of clarifying the history of the Holocaust in Ukraine, I submitted the topic the usual disciplinary procedures, which include researching in primary sources and rethinking in relation to existing research. The tremendous gulf between what the sources told me and the common wisdom in Ukrainian discourse was something I had never encountered before in my professional career. I was also struck by the complete absence of literature on the topic written from within the field of Ukrainian studies. As I worked, I more and more came to the conclusion that here was a moment where a revisionist treatment was not only appropriate, but obligatory.

Throughout this project I have kept returning in my mind to the same basic idea: that the truth is a value in and of itself. No matter what we would like to believe about something, we are obliged to uncover the truth. It has never ceased to astound me in the course of all the debates in which I have engaged, that so few people seem to be interested in that. My arguments have repeatedly been rejected out of hand, without a serious and honest confrontation with them or with the sources on which they rest. My opponents in debate seem to be interested in defending a certain position, not in figuring out what happened, as historians are supposed to do. When I originally took up this project, I had no idea about the OUN militias in summer 1941 and I doubted that UPA killed Jews or thought that it might have done so only exceptionally. I made my discoveries with very mixed feelings. I did not like what I was finding out, but I also experienced that satisfaction that a professional historian obtains when solving a difficult problem.

Heightening my interest in the topic, because of the intellectual challenge it posed, was the extreme polarization of memory between Ukrainians and Jews. How could their views on what happened be so strikingly different? Protestations of total innocence on one side were contradicted by deep resentments for complicity on the other. Indeed, some Jews felt that the Ukrainians were simply “the worst.” It was a puzzle for me, one that I feel I eventually worked out in its essentials; it whetted my curiosity and drove my quest to find out what actually happened and thus make sense of the disparities.

My research and thinking also awakened a moral sense about this topic, something that was not so prominent in my earlier studies. I wrote a piece in 2003 that raised the issue of how Ukrainian-diaspora discourse could be so complacent and reticent about UPA’s murder of the Poles and the Ukrainian police’s well documented tole in the Holocaust. To me, this nonchalance seemed wrong. Moreover, I was disturbed by what was going on both in Ukraine and in the diaspora: on the one hand, OUN and UPA were being glorified, and on the other, the history of Ukrainian Jews in the Holocaust was being suppressed. This too, seemed to me very wrong. My position is that the horrible crimes committed by Ukrainian nationalists against Jews and Poles during the Second World War cannot be undone, and all that later Ukrainians can do about them is to admit that they happened and to regret them. It is not enough, but it is all that is possible. Certainly they cannot glorify the people who committed them.

Another major spur to my activities as a gadfly was the Geschichtspolitik of President Yushchenko in Ukraine. In June 2007 he officially celebrated the centenary of the birth of UPA commander Roman Shukhevych. Shortly thereafter the Ukrainian post office issued a stamp in Shukhevych’s honor that bore the emblems of both OUN and UPA. Not much later Yushchenko named Shukhevych a posthumous Hero of Ukraine. Shortly before leaving office in early 2010, Yushchenko also made a posthumous Hero of Stepan Bandera, the leader of the wing of OUN that was the chief Ukrainian perpetrator during the Holocaust and later ethnic cleansing actions. A few days later, Yushchenko called on municipalities to name schools, streets, and squares after the heroes of OUN- UPA. Almost immediately afterwards, the Ukrainian Canadian Congress appealed to the government of Canada to recognize veterans of OUN-UPA as members of the resistance during World War II and to pay them veteran’s benefits. While Yushchenko pursued his campaign to have every country recognize the famine of 1932-33 as a genocide, he simultaneously suppressed the history of the other genocide, the Holocaust. He used the Security Service of Ukraine to pursue his historico-political agenda. It produced two deceptions, one that whitewashed the history of OUN vis-à-vis the pogroms and another that blamed Jews disproportionately for the famine. Someone had to say something about this, and I felt well positioned to do so.

The last motivation that I will mention is also connected to Yushchenko and his historical policies. Ukraine has a divided memory about both the famine and OUN-UPA. Simply put, the West of Ukraine puts OUN-UPA at the center of its heroic narrative of World War II, while the East and South put the Red Army at the center. Western Ukraine is also more convinced that the famine was a genocide than the rest of Ukraine, even though Western Ukraine was not part of the Soviet Union when the famine occurred. Ukraine’s first president deftly avoided alienating either regional perspective, while his successor sometimes played one identity project off against the other. President Yushchenko, however, embraced entirely what one of my colleagues nicknamed the “OUN-UPA-Holodomor” identity and pushed it vigorously on the Ukrainian public. He was massively defeated in the 2010 presidential election and replaced by a man who pushes the opposite perspective. In my view, this historical-identity war has been very harmful to Ukraine. Politicians find it all too attractive to mobilize the population with historical symbols, but they thereby drive the wedge in deeper between regions and between perspectives. It is always easier to deliver symbols than decent health care or affordable homes. I consider the deconstruction of the historical mythologies of both camps to be the prescribed medicine for Ukrainian political discourse.

Strategies

I have made my interventions in forms appropriate to both a scholar (a monograph in progress, articles in scholarly journals, book reviews, conference presentations) and to
a public intellectual (opinion pieces, letters to the editor, open letters). Here I will assess some of the pluses and minuses of these genres. There are several problems with the scholarly forms. One is that they are very slow. It takes a long time to research and write a monograph, at least in my case. I started serious research on my first book in 1974, and my last book was published in 2009, so it took me thirty-five years to write four monographs. The pace of scholarly publication, not just production, is slow. A major article on the Holocaust I wrote in 2004 has still not been published, although it has been accepted for a long time. The other major problem with scholarly forms is that they have a small readership. It is hard to make a dent on public opinion when one writes in the antiquated form of a twenty-five page, footnoted article in a professional journal that is purchased primarily by major research libraries. The third problem is that scholarly forms take effort and time to read. Today’s reader prefers shorter, simpler pieces; op-eds are the perfect size and at the perfect level for addressing the public.

I discovered the power of short pieces delivered via internet in 2004, on the eve of the Orange Revolution in Ukraine. I reacted to what I thought was hysterical and sometimes xenophobic rhetoric on the part of the partisans of Yushchenko, then a presidential candidate, and sent around to various lists and colleagues an eleven-hundred- word text dissenting from the prevailing view. Soon everyone I knew had read it, and many more whom I did not know, in Ukraine as well as in the overseas diaspora. An open letter distributed by email and the internet proved to be an extraordinarily effective way to communicate with a large audience in a timely fashion. No normal scholarly venue could have accomplished what a short text on the internet could. After this lesson, I was able to intervene in a similar fashion when a diaspora filmmaker was making an offensive movie about the Holodomor, when Yushchenko’s Security Service was deceiving the public about OUN and the pogroms, and particularly when Yushchenko and the Ukrainian Canadian congress were making OUN and UPA into heroes.

But there are disadvantages to short, instant response. One is that instant is sloppier. I carried on a polemic with a former president of the Ukrainian World Congress, and each of our rapid responses contained errors. I contrast such quick repartee, with its recurring errors, to the slow interchange in scholarship. That article that I have not published since 2004 has been rewritten three or four times, and a number of sets of careful eyes have gone over it. My last monograph took three years to go from my finished draft to publication. In that time, I had to respond twice to the comments of careful reviewers. I did not like it that the appearance of my book was being delayed, but I must admit that it is a much better book as a result.

Short, like instant, is also problematic, because history is complex and a short text often has to oversimplify. Short texts are best at throwing monkey wrenches into the spokes of larger narratives or myths, but they are not good for articulating a sustained argument of any complexity. Something always has to give. Another problem with short and instant pieces is that they sharpen the debate too much, which can constitute an impediment to thoughtful work.

One could argue that scholars should stick to scholarship and leave the formation of public opinion to journalists. But I disagree with that in principle. Scholarship is not a luxury–it has its responsibilities. In my case, not intervening would have left the mythmaking unchallenged; and then the nationalist viewpoint, already hegemonic in the overseas diaspora, in the Ukrainian studies community, and in Western Ukraine, would
have become even stronger and even harder to dislodge. No evidence, I am sure, will convince the nationalist true believers. But it seems to me absolutely necessary to express a different viewpoint, to create a space for and possibility of intellectual dissent; hence the recourse to the short pieces on the internet.

Although one of my courses became the subject of rather intense controversy, I do not consider the classroom to be the place for promoting one idea or another. I have given a number of undergraduate and graduate seminars on the Holocaust and one on the famine of 1932-33. I use these occasions to explore things for myself through collective reading and discussion. When an issue is controversial, I have tried to find the best presentations of the varying points of view. Students should be exposed to different perspectives and then sort out the issues for themselves. Our university motto is Quaecumque vera–whatsoever things are true. I subscribe fully. The university classroom is for exploration and intellectual growth, not for indoctrination.

In the course of these interventions, a few questions emerged concerning what might be called my location. At the beginning, I felt strongly that I should not try to intervene in Ukraine itself, that it was not my place; I thought I should restrict my commentary to the diaspora, since that is where I am located. I realized later, however, that this stance was impossible to maintain. Much of what I wrote in the diaspora was read in Ukraine, and things I published in Ukraine and even in Ukrainian were being read in the diaspora. I had failed to understand that we live in a highly transnational era. Another, related location question was my self-identification as a Ukrainian. Identity location makes some difference in the kind of demythologizing in which I have been engaging: challenging core myths from the inside. By example I demonstrate that one need not identify with OUN-UPA to identify, and be identified, as a Ukrainian. And I actually do have a Ukrainian identity. I have worked on Ukrainian history for over forty years; before that I studied to become a Ukrainian priest; my wife and I raised our children to speak Ukrainian; I attend a Ukrainian Orthodox church; I visit Ukraine and have close friends and relatives there; I like to eat Ukrainian food and drink horilka; I like to listen to various kinds of Ukrainian music, along with other music; I pursue a deep interest in Ukrainian sacral art. How am I not Ukrainian? (And I can hear the chorus of my critics: “Because you are a traitor!”

Conclusions

The debates are by no means over. At the moment, I feel that the biggest accomplishment has been to have forced debate on important issues. It is no longer quite as comfortable to hold on to the illusions as it had been.

It has not been easy to make these interventions, and I do not recommend that others seek out such opportunities. It is very easy to make mistakes. Still, intellectuals every once in a while are forced into an ich-kann-nicht-anders position. I hope that this report on my experiences will resonate with others in this situation and be taken as an expression of solidarity. And I hope that those with less encumbered intellectual lives have at least found this account to be of interest.

[Footnotes have been omitted from the original--DRM]


Beyond sticks and carrots: Western policy towards Ukraine

August 6, 2011

Iryna Solonenko and Peter Rutland

The publication of a letter from a dozen academics titled “EU should get tough now with Yanukovych [11]” in the Kyiv Post on June 16 has triggered a lively debate [12] about Western policy towards Ukraine. Taras Kuzio, Lucan Way, Serhiy Kudelia and half-a-dozen colleagues argue that the West must apply pressure on President Viktor Yanukovych to halt the erosion of democratic freedoms that has taken place since he took office in February 2010. They propose a visa-ban on top Ukrainian officials, and a halt to the introduction of a free-trade area with the European Union, unless what they see as the politically inspired trials of former officials such as ex-premier Yulia Tymoshenko are dropped. 

In response, Alexander Motyl [13] and Adrian Karatnycky [14] have argued that keeping Ukraine out of Moscow’s orbit should be the main priority shaping Western policy. They argue that the application of sanctions would merely help Yanukovych consolidate his authoritarian regime and push him even further in the direction of close ties with Russia.

“It is not unusual for Western foreign policy to be pulled between promoting democratic values on one hand and defending the West’s geopolitical interests on the other. However, the debate over Ukraine has an artificial quality in that it contributes to the over-personalization of politics in this country of 46 million people, reducing it to a personal battle between Viktor Yanukovych and Yulia Tymoshenko.”

Even though most of the initial letters’ signatories are based in North America, it is interesting that they focus their call for sanctions on the European Union and not the US government. This reflects the perception that nowadays Brussels, not Washington, holds the key to Ukraine.

The context for this debate is that by the end of this year the EU and Ukraine are supposed to conclude talks on an Association Agreement [15] (AA) that have been under way for four years. The advocates of sanctions are concerned that such an agreement would give the Yanukovych government a free hand to manipulate the parliamentary elections that will take place in fall 2012.

It is not unusual for Western foreign policy to be pulled in two directions, between promoting democratic values on one hand and defending the West’s geopolitical interests on the other. However, the debate over Ukraine has an artificial quality in that it contributes to the over-personalization of politics in this country of 46 million people, reducing it to a personal battle between Viktor Yanukovych and Yulia Tymoshenko. This is not to deny that a gross miscarriage of justice does seem to be under way in the Tymoshenko trial [16] – just that this factor alone should not bring Western policy towards Ukraine to a grinding halt.

The international record on sanctions of all types has been mixed, at best: on average, they work about half the time. One relevant success story would be the sanctions imposed on Slovakia before 1998. They did succeed in triggering a social mobilization that ousted Prime Minister Vladimir Meciar and set Slovakia on the path to EU entry.

At this juncture, however, the chances that sanctions on Ukraine’s top leaders would cause a radical shift in their political style, or mobilize society against them, are slim. The sanctions advocates don’t really explain why they think these sanctions would work. Conditionality only works if the benefits of complying with external requirements outweigh the costs of reforms. Ukraine’s ruling elites (like politicians everywhere) think short-term. In the short-term perspective the incumbent elites might consider they have more to lose from having free elections than they will gain from the long-term benefits the AA offers. Indeed, it would take up to 10-15 years for the deep and comprehensive free trade area between the EU and Ukraine, a core component of the AA, to become a reality, while in the short run the costs of adaptation will need to be paid. Added to which, Moscow can also exercise leverage, and try to neutralize Western initiatives.

Rather than play the carrots and sticks game, trying to influence leaders’ decisions, it is better to wager on society. This means seeing through to their conclusion the negotiations. The sanctions debate overlooks the potential transformative effect the AA will have on Ukraine. Signing the agreement would mean that Ukraine enters serious commitments to reform itself. Since the major barriers to EU-Ukraine bilateral trade are non-tariff, access to the EU market will require Ukraine to adopt up to 1,500 pages of acquis communautaire regulations. The AA will be a legally binding arrangement, meaning that the EU and European companies can bring Ukraine to the European Court of Justice if provisions of the agreement have been violated, and vice versa.

This type of engagement will encourage domestic reform-minded actors to push for change from inside. It will unlock the potential of numerous groups and individuals that are interested in reform, but have limited tools to push for them under present conditions. These actors include both civil society groups and businesses, who will be able to use the AA procedures to push for a more competitive environment and above all a fairer judicial process in Ukraine.

It is true that the EU runs the risk of being seen as compromising the values on which it wants the partnership with neighboring countries be based. When announcing the successful conclusion of AA talks this December, the EU should make it clear that it expects democratic norms to be upheld in Ukraine. But refusing to sign the agreement altogether would likely bring no policy change at all.

Failure to conclude the AA would not only be a blow to Ukraine, but also a nail in the coffin of the EU’s already embattled Eastern Neighborhood Policy – which is built on the premise that there are common values uniting the EU and its eastern neighbors.

Smart engagement, including increased flows of trade, mobility of people and growing interdependence, which the AA offers, is the way to go. Post-war Europe started with functional and technocratic integration, with no sign of political union in sight. What the EU is today, even with the current crisis, is still impressive. This tried and proven path of long-term integration is the best hope for success with Ukraine and other Eastern neighbors. Engagement will produce a critical mass of institutions, practices and individuals that will inevitably challenge the current regimes in the longer run. There is no short-term quick fix to the deficiencies in Ukraine’s political culture.

Links:
[1] http://www.opendemocracy.net/themes/russia-theme
[2] http://www.opendemocracy.net/russia
[3] http://www.opendemocracy.net/topics/international-politics
[4] http://www.opendemocracy.net/topics/democracy-and-government
[5] http://www.opendemocracy.net/countries/ukraine
[6] http://www.opendemocracy.net/russia/topics/politics
[7] http://www.opendemocracy.net/russia/topics/human-rights
[8] http://www.opendemocracy.net/russia/topics/foreign
[9] http://www.opendemocracy.net/author/iryna-solonenko
[10] http://www.opendemocracy.net/author/peter-rutland
[11] http://www.kyivpost.com/news/opinion/op_ed/detail/106920/
[12] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/mykola-riabchuk/ukraine-blackmail-and-bluff
[13] http://www.worldaffairsjournal.org/new/blogs/motyl/Integrating_an_Authoritarian_Ukraine_into_Democratic_Europe
[14] http://www.kyivpost.com/news/opinion/op_ed/detail/108653/print/
[15] http://www.kyivpost.com/news/nation/detail/109355/
[16] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/natalia-sedletska/ukrainian-politics-on-trial
[17] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/iryna-solomko/yuri-lutsenko-views-from-prison-cell
[18] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/aleksey-matsuka/dispatch-from-donetsk
[19] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/olena-tregub/ukraine-europe-its-brightest-hope
[20] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/david-marples/ukraine-crisis-of-self-identity
[21] http://www.opendemocracy.net/od-russia/mykola-riabchuk/viktor-yanukovych-pandora%E2%80%99s-box-and-moscow-orchestra
[22] http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/
[23] http://www.opendemocracy.net/about/syndication

This article was originally published by our partner organization, Open Democracy, 4 August 2011 and is reissued here with permission.


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