IV. THE MOSCOW TREATY OF 1654: PHANTOM OR A REALITY THAT DID NOT SUIT EVEN CONTEMPORARIES?
The Moscow-Chyhyryn Bermuda Triangle of 1654, or when and where did the original of the Ukrainian-Russian treaty disappear?
Even the liberal arts education of this writer cannot excuse his inability to imagine a two-pointed geometrical figure as a triangle. But in this case the question is of big politics, not mathematics. And that the Ukrainian- Russian treaty of 1654 was not just big but very big politics is beyond doubt. At any rate, it is difficult to find in the history of Ukraine another historic date that would have drawn for several centuries the attention of not so much historians as politicians, public figures, and the common people not indifferent to history and the present.
Obviously, this interest has been chiefly fueled by all kinds of political expediencies and quasi-political speculations. What has also significantly contributed to this is the fact that the original copy of the treaty, so important for not only Ukraine but also the whole Central and Eastern Europe, disappeared without a trace. As is known, it is documents that nobody has ever seen or that were seen by a very narrow circle of individuals within a very limited time span that provide the most fertile ground for differing interpretations.
In Ukraine, the first attempt to find the treaty’s original copy was made in August 1657, about the time of Bohdan Khmelnytsky’s death. Two years later the Muscovites “helped” Yury Khmelnytsky to search for the document. But, as it was proved later, a deliberately falsified copy was slipped into the hands of the great hetman’s feckless son in order to impose — as if on behalf of his father — unfavorable conditions aimed at restricting the sovereignty of Cossack Ukraine. In the fall of 1708, after Hetman Mazepa had sided with Swedish King Charles XII, Tsar Peter I ordered his foreign policy department (Posolsky prikaz) to look for the original copy of the 1654 Ukrainian-Russian treaty. To no avail again.
We can recall very recent history — the emergence of sovereign former Soviet republics — when Boris Yeltsin, then Chairman of the Russian Supreme Soviet, arrived in Kyiv and presented the Ukrainian leadership with what he claimed was the original, or at least a fragment of it. As far as I know, the Year of Ukraine in Russia also stirred the interest of Russian Foreign Ministry officials in this matter. But, remembering the previous futile attempts, it is logical to suggest that even if the initiators of this action manage to find something, this “something” would be nothing but political capital derived from public agitation over the very process of the search.
This raises several questions. Perhaps there was no treaty at all? And, if there was one, why did both sides try so hard to get rid of it? A positive answer to the former question logically follows from the analysis of the 1654 Moscow talks. As to the latter, we must view the matter in much broader terms, taking into account of the overt and covert wishes of both sides negotiating joint actions, as well as of the political developments of the Time.
Moscow, the Kremlin, March 1654...
The Ukrainian mission led by Pereyaslav Colonel Pavlo Teteria and Justice-General Samiylo Bohdanovych-Zarudny arrived at a suburb of Moscow on March 11 (March 21 under the Gregorian calendar), 1654. The guests ceremoniously rode into the tsarist capital on March 12 and were pompously received by Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich on March 13 in the presence of court boyars and other dignitaries.
On the same day Teteria and Bohdanovych-Zarudny began negotiations with Tsar Aleksei’s government represented by Aleksei Trubetskoi, one of the most senior tsarist boyars; boyar Vasily Buturlin, head of the last Muscovite delegation to Ukraine; and boyar deacon Almaz Ivanov, chief of the Posolsky prikaz. In the course of these talks, the Ukrainian envoys laid down their basic vision of the agreement in line with the hetman’s instruction of February 17, 1654. A number of issues, including the placement of tsarist voyevodas (district chiefs) in Ukrainian cities and taxation of the local populace, were raised by Moscow. Also under discussion was military cooperation and the regional international situation.
On March 14, at the Russian side’s request, the Ukrainian envoys presented their proposals in writing, i.e., they in fact put forward the document drawn up in Korsun and Chyhyryn on February 17. There were no bilateral talks for several days after as the Muscovites pondered the proposals. To make the final decision on the matter, Aleksei Mikhailovich convened and participated in the session of the boyar duma (council). The duma passed resolutions on each of the proposed items, introducing them with the formula “the sovereign instructed and the boyars resolved.” Most of the tsarist resolutions approved Khmelnytsky’s proposals except for those dealing with the financial relations of the two sides. The hetman preferred paying the tsar a certain annual tribute for his protection and military aid, as the Transylvanian prince and the Moldovan hospodar did to the Turkish sultan. Instead, the tsar ordered that all taxes be collected from the Ukrainian populace for him and under supervision of his representatives. Then the tsarist coffers were to disburse funds for the upkeep of the Cossack host and administration, carrying out foreign policy activities, etc.
Another negative decision concerned foreign policy. The hetman wanted to be absolutely free to dispatch his envoys and receive foreign ones at his court. Conversely, the Aleksei Mikhailovich government insisted on being informed about the arrival of envoys with “good” intentions towards the tsar and that those who arrived with “evil designs” be apprehended. Apparently, the latter a priori included the whole diplomatic corps of the Polish Kingdom and the Ottoman Empire, whom Khmelnytsky had no right to contact unless duly authorized by the tsar. In addition, the Muscovites also explained in detail why they refused to pay the Cossacks from the tsar’s coffers: too much money was supposedly spent on preparations for a war against Poland.
While the government of Aleksei Mikhailovich pondered the Ukrainian version of the agreement, Teteria and Bohdanovych-Zarudny were most interested in having a good time. For example, on March 15 they watched a military parade of infantry and cavalry soldiers, and on March 18 they attended a ceremonial dinner on the occasion of the tsar’s name day. But when the envoys learned about the nature of the tsarist resolutions, they appealed to the Posolsky prikaz that some of these decisions be reconsidered. Significantly, what irked them most was the tsar’s refusal to pay the Cossacks. Defending their position, Teteria and Bohdanovych-Zarudny noted that “the point is not so much in the money for the Cossack Army as in the tsar’s glory.” The shot hit the target, and Aleksei Mikhailovich’s government promised to find a way to allocate a fourth of a Hungarian gold piece to each of the 60,000 registered Ukrainian Cossacks.
The tsar granted the Ukrainian delegation a farewell audience on March 19. Yet, the envoys managed to leave Moscow only a week later because all this time governmental officials were preparing royal charters for the hetman and the Cossack Army as well as completing other less important but still necessary formalities. Simultaneously, the two sides drew up the text of an 11-article agreement known as March Articles. This document, supposedly done in two — Ukrainian and Russian — originals, disappeared without a trace. Now the Posolsky prikaz archives only keep a rough copy of the treaty from which the original was written approximately between March 20 and 27.
What was the attitude of Ukrainian society toward the contents of the 1654 Moscow Treaty?
There was no attitude at all because, having familiarized himself with the amendments made to the text of the treaty by the Moscow side, the Ukrainian hetman did not bring these to the notice of senior Cossack officers, let alone the public at large. Why not? Because these restrictions of the hetman’s prerogatives by no means fitted in with Khmelnytsky’s own vision of statehood. One can, of course, accept the arguments of those who portray the hetman as a pro- Muscovite statesman. But the point is his pro-Moscow attitude was limited to accepting the tsar as his suzerain. Conversely, Moscow’s attempts to interfere in domestic policies and establish control over foreign policies remained ineffective during Khmelnytsky’s life. The tsar’s government failed to take over the Hetmanate’s finances and collect Ukrainian taxes for Muscovy: not one penny, or rather grosz, of taxes made its way to the tsar’s coffers. What aroused the special resentment of the Muscovite side was the hetman’s demonstrative independence in foreign policy. Things went so far that Muscovy might arrange a truce with Poland and declare war on Sweden, while the Ukrainian leadership, allied with the Swedish king, would invade Polish lands and work out plans to divide the latter between the Russian tsar’s opponents and Ukraine!
When the tsar’s delegation led by the boyar Fёdor Buturlin threatened Khmelnytsky in the early summer of 1657 with divine punishment for violating the 1654 treaty provisions, the hetman aptly noted that he had never accepted those conditions. He had never thought that the tsar’s diplomats might foist a fake on his envoys in Moscow. Therefore, it is clear that Khmelnytsky was interested in the disappearance of the treaty’s text. But why did Muscovy not care about keeping the original text intact?
Here the explanation is quite a prosaic. The point is that after Bohdan’s death, which occurred shortly after Buturlin’s departure from Ukraine, there were repeated attempts to impose new conditions of the treaty on his successor Ivan Vyhovsky. These conditions still further limited the Hetmanate’s sovereignty. It is pressure on Vyhovsky that became one of the main factors that touched off the Ukrainian-Muscovite War of 1658-1659. After the fall of Vyhovsky, boyar A. M. Trubetskoi (incidentally, a participant in the March 1654 Moscow talks) presented to Yury Khmelnytsky in October 1659, at Pereyaslav, a supposedly authentic (but in fact falsified) version of the 1654 treaty now consisting of 14 articles and, what is more, containing a number of restrictive clauses which Moscow had failed to impose on Vyhovsky earlier.
This makes it clear why both sides disliked the 1654 treaty. It will be far more difficult to find the original text. It is still more difficult — and more important — to find an adequate interpretation of its essence, which would leave no place for political speculation. Quite obviously, the Ukrainian- Russian treaty of 1654 was the product of the two countries’ political development at a specific time, so it is no use holding it up as some Holy Writ. The treaty carried not only the noble intentions of the two Orthodox peoples about joint struggle but also the attempts of each side to hide some of its strategic designs and thus take advantage of the other. That was the political reality of the time. Thus, let the treaty remain behind in memory without fanfare or fireworks but also without anybody having to repent and be wise after the event.
