“Is it true that Ukrainian is now being spoken all over Volhynia?”
“Yes, Madam, the Ukrainians speak Ukrainian.”
“On the street, too? And in administrative agencies?”
“Well, Ukrainians do make up 80% of the population of Volhynia.”
“Horrors! A state within a state! But this is a lie: there are no Ukrainians there at all.”
This dialogue, which W. Ostrowski recorded in the late 1930s at Lublin’s railway station and then made public in the newspaper Biuletyn Polsko-Ukrainski, reflects the typical Polish attitude toward Ukrainians. At the same time, it helps one understand the essence of the unyielding “Volhynian nexus,” which embodies the problem of the Poles’ preparedness to acknowledge (or reject) the ethnic identity of Ukrainians. In turn it demanded an answer to the question, to whom should the Volhynian lands belong: Poland, the neighboring Ukrainian SSR, or some other political entity that was to be established on ethnic Ukrainian territories.
Answers varied greatly, depending on who was asking the questions. With certain exceptions, of course, the majority of Poles insisted that this land had been an integral part of the Polish state from time immemorial, and slogans about the blood that had been shed fighting for it or about the land that was drenched with the sweat of previous generations became standard cliches of Polish journalists and politicians.
Whether or not we like it, for the sake of fairness we must admit that these arguments are sound. For after a long period of statelessness, the Polish public was brimming with patriotic feelings, and various episodes or even myths from their ethnic history readily triggered the required impulses. Let us compare these arguments with those of the Jews who resuscitated the image of the Promised Land they had lost almost two millennia ago. Since that land was lost in a “physical” sense, which had led to the creation of a worldwide Diaspora, but not spiritually, it was only natural that the Zionists fought for and extolled it in prayers. Let’s not forget the Russian residents of Volhynia, who after the downfall of the Romanov empire dreamed of a revived “undivided one,” which they hoped would again include this region.
Is it surprising then that there was also a Ukrainian voice ringing out against the background of such reveries? The ideas of a primordial land drenched with the sweat of ancestors, references to the Kyivan Rus’ era and the Cossack state, etc., resulted in a powerful voice of the Ukrainians who demanded the right to administer their native land. This voice was consonant with the Polish one because both sides sought to prove their right of supremacy in this region. The only difference was in their numbers: according to the 1921 census, the 165,000 Poles who resided in Volhynia wojewodstwo were only the third largest ethnic group after the Ukrainians and Jews (188,000). So the Ukrainian-Polish vision of the “Volhynian nexus” is in fact a face-off between the local ethnic majority (Ukrainians) and one of the minorities (Poles). The latter, however, were part of the titular nation and hence enjoyed the unwritten right of the mightiest. In a narrower perspective, the “Volhynian nexus” is an aggregate of two definitive components: strategies adopted by the central and local authorities with respect to the Ukrainian issue, on the one hand, and on the other, a contradictory set of interrelations between the two nations that inhabited this place.
THE CONTROVERSIAL NATURE OF UKRAINIAN-POLISH RELATIONS IN 1921-1928
The sociopolitical sentiments that prevailed among the Ukrainian population of Western Volhynia after it became part of the Polish state, the local population’s fatigue resulting from the protracted military conflict, and the desire to establish a lasting peace created the necessary prerequisites for reaching a compromise with the Polish administration. In addition, some Volhynian Ukrainians showed neither a high level of national identity nor a high level of civic activity. In the fall of 1920 many of them, exhausted by the war, welcomed the return to Western Volhynia of the Polish authorities, regarding the latter as a guarantor of political stability and the reestablishment of law and order after the wartime anarchy.
In spite of long-term Ukrainian-Polish socio-ethnic conflict over the land, the common historical legacy (the national oppression that both peoples suffered in the Russian Empire) gave their statehood-oriented forces an opportunity to interact. This materialized on a platform of a joint struggle against Bolshevism (the Warsaw Treaty of 1920), while the slogan “For Our Freedom and Yours!” became a virtual credo of Polish-Ukrainian cooperation.
Although Polish-Ukrainian military cooperation failed to yield the expected results, it provided a serious impetus to strive for cooperation in peacetime. These ideas were especially popular among former soldiers of Symon Petliura’s army, some of whom had settled in Volhynia wojewodstwo. In the early 1920s most of them joined the Ukrainian National Unification (UNYe) or the Ukrainian People’s Party (UNP).
The ideological platform of these institutions rested on two fundamental principles: an independent Ukraine and tolerant Ukrainian-Polish cohabitation in the Polish Republic. UNYe believed this could be achieved if every citizen pledged to defend the interests of the state “to which he belongs territorially.” This party’s leaders believed that the Polish constitution’s democratic provisions were a sufficient legal basis for the Ukrainian people to exercise their national and civil rights. Conversely, UNP members were demanding that Poland grant autonomy to the Ukrainian lands. Autonomy was viewed as a transitional stage on the way to a federated Second Rzeczpospolita.
There were also Polish institutions that sought mutual understanding with the Ukrainians. One of these was Straz Kresowa (Guardian of the Frontier), an organization whose charter was aimed at raising awareness among the non-Polish peoples of the importance of tolerant coexistence and cooperation with the ruling nation. Interethnic dialogue was to be based on implementation of the slogans “Equal with Equals” and “Free with the Free.” Yet, promoting Polish-Ukrainian partnership and mutual understanding was just one trend — and not the decisive one to boot — in the two nations’ dialogue. Another, conflict-laden, trend got the upper hand.
A vivid illustration of the difficult and complex relations between the two nations after World War One is primarily the reaction of Volhynian residents to the Warsaw Treaty. Neither the Polish nor the Ukrainian side was prepared to accept it unconditionally. According to state police files, the Polish public was stunned to learn of this political action. Local administration bodies were also confused. They demanded that the higher echelons of power explain Warsaw’s stand on the Ukrainian question. At the same time, a considerable part of the Ukrainian population also appeared to be unprepared for a joint struggle, and they ignored Petliura’s call to mobilize. Although some Volhynian Ukrainians were apolitical and indifferent to the national cause, there were also forces in the region that categorically opposed Polish rule. For instance, on the eve of the signing of the peace treaty, the Lutsk police were describing the activities of Prosvita (Enlightenment) as anti-state and separatist. In some localities Prosvita cells cooperated with other anti-Polish statehood-minded organizations, such as the Liubytiv-based Ukraine Defense Committee.
What became sort of a litmus test for Volynian residents’ sociopolitical attitudes were celebrations in honor of the first Constitution of Poland, the Polish government regarding participation in these events as a manifestation of loyalty to the state. Unlike other nations, the Ukrainians in Lutsk demonstratively avoided these celebrations. The local Prosvita cell was the only organization in the city that refused to send representatives to a ceremonial procession and to display the Polish flag on its premises.
Another obstacle to tolerant interethnic coexistence was the ever-growing peasant movement in the early 1920s, which eventually took the form of guerrilla warfare. More often than not, the insurgents redirected their energies at “class enemies,” i.e., the Poles. As early as 1923 the Polish press began to sound the alarm with such typical headlines as “The Frontier in Turmoil!” What also aroused the Ukrainians’ indignation was the government’s “onslaught on the ethnic front,” which reached its peak in the spring of 1921: just three months after the Riga Peace Treaty was signed on May 21, 1921, it was forbidden to use the Ukrainian language in Volhynia wojewodstwo. Artificial barriers were erected in the region, restricting Ukrainian public outreach organizations, including Prosvita, which worked to instill a sense of national identity in the peasants. Education was also the target of governmental attacks: about 300 Ukrainian-language schools were closed in 1924-1925 alone.
