We, Ukrainians, must not be blamed for failing to admit our historical faults. Our history, like that of any other nation, does have some painfully unpleasant pages which we would like to erase from our historical memory. But it is impossible just to forget them.
The only way out is repentance before our neighbors and reconciliation with ourselves. We did so in 1991, when Leonid Kravchuk, President of the newly-proclaimed independent Ukraine, apologized to the entire Jewish nation on behalf of all Ukrainians in Babyn Yar. We did this again in 2003, when President Leonid Kuchma and his Polish counterpart Aleksander Kwa niewski made a series of high-profile political statements in which they, guided by quite a natural aspiration to overcome the dramatic legacy of the totalitarian past in the history of both nations, devised a really adequate 21st-century formula: reciprocal forgiveness of one another and recognition of a joint responsibility for the dark pages of the past.
With this in view, the Polish Sejm’s resolution on the 66th anniversary of the 1943—1944 events in Volhynia seems strange and utterly incomprehensible to us, Ukrainians. As is known, it is about the armed clashes between units of the Polish Armia Krajowa (which fought to retain Volhynia as part of the Polish state even after the end of World War II) and those of the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (which strove to make Volhynia part of the future independent Ukrainian state).
It should be admitted that in the course of a bitter struggle both sides carried out harsh reprisals against the civilian population of the “enemy.” It is common knowledge that the Polish side’s death toll was several times greater than that of the Ukrainian side. And, naturally, nobody will deprive the Poles of the right to remember their dead. The problem is different. In spite of what seems to be a generally friendly tone towards Ukrainians, the resolution uses the terms “ethnic cleansing’ and “genocide.”
Somebody must be interested in shifting the focus of public attention to the 1943 drama in Volhynia. Surprisingly, this interest coincided with an unprecedented pressure on Ukraine and Ukrainian interpretation of history by our northern neighbor. From a strategic perspective, an attempt to take advantage of Ukraine’s temporary weakness on the foreign and domestic political stage is doomed to failure because this weakness is transient, while we are neighbors forever.
On May 25, 2002, on the eve of the memorable meeting of presidents Kuchma and Kwa niewski, when the Volhynia events were the talk of the town in both Polish and Ukrainian societies, the newspaper Den carried the article “The Earth Has Not Absorbed All the Blood” by Jacek Kuro , a well-known Polish public and political figure. (Later, this material became part of The Day’s Library series Wars and Peace, or Ukrainians — Poles: Brothers/Enemies, Neighbors.)
Kuro appealed to Ukrainians in this letter: “…I am imploring you — I am sure not only on by personal behalf — to forgive us. Unfortunately, neither we nor you are mature enough to do so, but, undoubtedly, we are getting more and more mature every day and year.” Later, in the preface to the Polish-language edition of this book (after the death of Kuro ), Adam Michnik said Kuro was “the one who explained to the Poles the Ukrainian position, the Ukrainian pain, and the Ukrainian sufferings.” Are our neighbors indeed apt to forget so quickly the lessons of their great compatriots?
