The Day has raised this question for a reason. After regaining independence and in the years when Ukraine-Russia relations were not so simple, we have been trying to understand Russia in a new way. We have been talking about it and holding debates.
In 2003, when the relations between the two countries became strained due to the Tuzla Island conflict, The Day published the book Dvi Rusi (Two Rus’es) as part of its Ukraine Incognita Library Series. The book that offered insights and, to a certain extent, predictions immediately won popularity among the readers. Last year we published a special issue entitled “Why is Russia heading to?”
If we cast away all political and other biases, Ukrainians and Russians are two closely related nations. Their paths in history have crossed and will cross in the future. The question is: What kind of Russia do we need today and what will it be tomorrow? What kind of Russia do we want to see? Finally, what kind of Russia do we love?
The timing for raising this question has also been chosen for a reason: March 25 marks the birth anniversary of Aleksandr Gertsen, Russian political writer and philosopher. He thought in terms of the future of great Russia, great in its inexhaustible creative pursuits, profound intellect, and philosophical views. Gertsen was longing for a different kind of Russia—the one we know and love. So what is Gertsen’s Russia? What is this kind of Russia that we love?
Ivan DZIUBA, academician of Ukraine’s National Academy of Sciences:
“There were few people Ukrainian progressive intelligentsia loved more than Gertsen. The early examples are Mykola Kostomarov and Taras Shevchenko, who gave him his Kobzar as a gift “with a low bow.” Since then Gertsen has been the symbol of a different — unofficial and non-despotic — Russia. The very concept of two Russias has been around for 150 years, giving hope to generations of nationally-minded people in Russia, Russia-dominated territories, and neighbor countries. This concept is linked to Gertsen, who was, essentially, the first to formulate it.
“Gertsen was a patriot of Russia. He fought not for the glory of the state, but for the life of its people, who were owned by landlords and tsars. In his Letters to the Enemy he wrote: ‘The main axis around which our lives have been revolving is our attitude to the Russian people, faith in it, love for it … and a desire to effectively participate in its life.’ It was this desire for his people to have good life (socially rather than Messianically) that led him to the conviction that the territorial expansion mania had been and would be nothing else than a source of suffering for the Russian people and that it needed to put its own house in order and let other peoples live. That is why he defended Poland so energetically and vehemently, drawing fire from both conservatives and ‘liberals.’ That is why he paid such close attention to and so sincerely supported the manifestations of free thinking in any corner of the Russian Empire.
“He has been especially dear to us, Ukrainians. His Kolokol always supplied proof of its sympathy for Ukraine and an understanding of its desire to ‘rise from ruins and preserve its own image that has been so unfairly and mercilessly tarnished.’
“For this reason Ivan Franko invariably cited Gertsen whenever he needed to speak about a different, progressive, democratic, and non-Russifying Russia that we could live side by side with without the risk of becoming a victim of its expansion. Although Gertsen’s tradition in Russia has seen many great and noble thinkers, it failed, unfortunately, to become the determining factor in social consciousness.”
Volodymyr PANCHENKO, Professor of Philology, Kyiv Mohyla Academy:
“It is not easy to answer this question, because one comes across facts on a daily basis that show that Russia simply cannot shake off its dangerous syndrome of lost grandeur. This is true of both the political elite and mass consciousness. Naturally, it is not easy to let go of one’s imperial ambitions, but this will have to happen sooner or later. It hasn’t so far, so it’s hard for me to speak of love. Let me tell you about the kind of Russia that is interesting to me.
“I have been reading Russian literature for a long time now. I like Leo Tolstoy, Anton Chekhov, Ivan Bunin, and especially Fyodor Dostoevsky, who had great artistic insights into the tragic scenarios of the 20th century (although he also had pieces with statements in the style of Vladimir Zhirinovsky). When I was a student, I read Viktor Astafyev, Valentin Rasputin, who expressed his nostalgia for the peasant state, Vasily Belov, an extremely careful observer of peasant life, Yuri Trifonov, Bulat Okudzava (as a prose writer), and Yuri Davydov. I found surprising parallels between history and present time in their novels. A few years ago I discovered for myself Vasily Grossman, who wrote the novel Vse techet (Forever Flowing). I wrote about it and even translated and published the fragment that talks about the 1993 famine.
“There is also another important layer in Russian literature of the first half of the 19th century. It is sometimes called ‘the Ukrainian school’ in Russian literature and is represented by Nikolai Gogol (Mykola Hohol), Aleksei Pogorelsky, Orest Somov, Vasily Narezhny, and others.
“In 1983 I spent four months in Moscow attending a training course. This sojourn left me with most of my immediate impressions of Russia. I went to places where famous writers once lived: Yasnaya Polyana, Abramtsevo, and former estates near Moscow. I enjoyed walking down the streets of the Old City, stopping by bookstores, and attending interesting soirees at the Writers’ Union. I remember spending days on end in the Lenin Library—at that time I was for some reason interested in episodes linked to our Hryhorii Skovoroda.
“In a word, my interest in Russia is primarily cultural, but even so I am attracted only by certain segments of its cultural space. Here, too, one comes across the phenomenon of absorption: Russia absorbs the things that were created by non-Russians. For example, Vasyl Bykov and Chinghiz Aitmatov are considered to be ‘Russian’ writers, just like the painter Maria Bashkyrtseva, who grew up near Dykanka in Ukraine and matured as an artist in France. Similarly, Slovo o polku Ihorevim (The Tale of Ihor’s Campaign) is also part of ‘Russian’ culture, as well as Dmytro Tuptalo, Feofan Prokopovych, and Nikolai Gogol (Mykola Hohol). The list continues up to the present time.
“After all, this is Russia’s business. They have their own hysterical historians, just like we have ours. We have an inferiority complex, whereas they have the syndrome of lost grandeur. Both are quite traumatic things. The sooner we rid ourselves of our post-colonial traumas, the sooner Russians will get over theirs.”
Ihor PASICHNYK, Professor of Psychology, rector of Ostroh Academy:
“If Ukrainians are asked what they like about Russia, most will say that it is Russian classical literature, even though this is the merit of many nationalities that live in Russia, rather than Russia alone. A person who has not read Russian classics is intellectually impoverished.
“Second, I like that Russia’s president and government have issued a number of decrees to fight alcoholism. For example, it is forbidden in Russia to drink any alcoholic beverages, including beer, from an open bottle in public places.
“I like their concept of national education. We, Ukrainians, are always afraid of the words national and national ideas, while Russians raise their young generations precisely on these. I believe that this is a very good concept, because love for one’s Fatherland is patriotism.
“I like the fact that Russia has introduced some order into the procedure of awarding academic degrees. This clarity is consistent and stable. The Russian government supports the secondary and higher education systems. They have developed a clear-cut concept for school and college education and are operating government programs to support higher education. Russian universities are self-governed, which is an advantage. For example, Russia signed the Bologna agreement but the Lomonosov Moscow State University refused to implement it. I respect this decision because an education institution has its own traditions and special features.
“I believe that one of Russia’s greatest achievements is that the Christian idea and the history of Christianity have been made mandatory subjects in all secondary schools and kindergartens. We have been fighting for so long to have Christian ethics introduced as a mandatory subject in schools, but it has happened only at the regional level.
“The thing I like the most about contemporary Russia is that the political circles, the government, and the prime minister are working as one team for the good of their country. We need to learn from Russians how to defend state interests. Another lesson to be learned is supporting our diaspora; then it will see that it has not been forgotten. We need to borrow from Russia the practice of tax reliefs for the media space, for example, cinema and the book publishing business. We see that Russian books have been conquering our markets on an increasing scale.
“Russian scholars are beginning to establish close ties with Ukrainian universities. I would like to single out Yurii Labintsev and Tatiana Shchavinskaya, who work on Ostroh-related topics in the Russian Academy of Sciences, whereas Ukrainian scholars have ignored these topics, unfortunately. We have fairly close ties with these Russian colleagues. We are also receiving cooperation proposals from Russian universities, which is something we are very happy about.”
Ella LIBANOVA, academician, head of the Institute of Demography and Social Research, Ukraine’s National Academy of Sciences:
“Russian literature, science, music, art, and so on… My nostalgia for Russia is linked with its place in world culture in general. In my personal worldview Russia has been a powerful empire, and every empire that ever existed has made a contribution to the world’s heritage — the British Empire, the French Empire, the Austro-Hungarian Empire, etc. It seems to me that Russia’s colossal contribution to world culture is linked to its size more than anything else.
“What Russia is in our perception is a horse of a different color. We read Russian writers and poets in the original, unlike most English-language prose and poetry. Translation itself is a factor, not to mention other aspects. I don’t know about others but I was raised in the context of Russian culture.
“If we speak about great figures of world renown that emerged from Russia, I would separate art from science. Unfortunately, the Golden Age of art is over. It is a different time, and life is much faster than it was when the great Russian artists lived—people cannot read now as it was customary in that day and age. Even at the turn of the 20th century every detail on a canvas was meticulously painted by the artist, whereas the era of impressionism marked the beginning of the tendency to drop details; paintings were produced faster and revealed a different worldview. Thus it is hard to say whether present-day Russia is capable of producing great artists. One also wonders whether the world needs them as such.
“What concerns science, Russia has potential, but again there are questions here. Science has become international. It seems to me that the time of independent scholars is in the past. Russia’s contribution to science may not look so impressive after a while time, while transnational centers will play an increasingly important role. There is a reason why most Nobel Prize laureates are Americans — the US has a high concentration of international research teams. This is something to bear in mind; we should not separate ourselves from the rest of the world.”
Yevhenia Sokhatska:
“Apart from Leningrad and Moscow, I have not seen Russia as such. My judgments are informational and have been derived from fiction and scholarly literature.
“For me Russia is a land of boundless space, harsh climate, and courageous people, people for whom Russia is above all else. It runs in their blood, and this is something we can only envy.
“For me the humanistic pillar in Russian culture is Nikolai Chernyshevsky. He was one of the first Russian cultural activists who acknowledged the greatness of Taras Shevchenko, called him the mouthpiece of the Ukrainian people, and recognized Ukraine’s right to have its own literature.
“Remarkably, he said: ‘Now, having a poet like Shevchenko, Ukrainian literature does not need anyone’s favor’; ‘Little Russia … cannot do without its own literature.’ He later followed in Shevchenko’s footsteps, when he was exiled to the Siberia for 20 years, and became the epitome of the power and beauty of revolutionary heroism.
“Chernyshevsky was a source of revolutionary inspiration for the progressively-minded Russian youth. He taught optimism and expressed conviction that ‘everything would be for the benefit of our fatherland,’ as he put it in a letter to his wife. One is also reminded of his words: ‘The future is bright and beautiful. Love it, strive for it, work for it, and draw it closer.’
“Isn’t there a parallel with our day and age? Aren’t appeals like this relevant to us, Ukrainians?
“So let us read the works penned by the pillars of the Russian people and transfer their exhortations to our complicated circumstances that involve a lot of responsibilty.”
Yurii SHCHERBAK, Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Ambassador of Ukraine:
“I first came to Russia in the winter of 1941, when our family was evacuated to Russia from Ukraine and enjoyed the exceptional kindness of the people who accommodated us in their homes and shared their clothes with us. This impression has stayed with me for the rest of my life. I love the Russia of that time, as I remember it.
“Here is another impression. Among those people were many repressed families that hated Bolshevism. Some had been stripped of their positions, while the members of other families had been arrested or exiled. Although I was only seven and did not understand much, this was also an interesting factor in my perception of Russia. This Russia has a place in my heart, and I have warm feelings toward it.
“Then I went to a Russian school, listened to Russian, and read Russian literature, which became my favorite. For me Russia is, above all, a country of world-level literature, beautiful music, and art.
“Naturally, an understanding came later that Russia is not uniform. In this case Lenin’s formula about two Russias is true: there is the bright, progressive and democratic Russia and the reactionary tsarist Russia. I love the Russia of Gertsen and Berdiaev, Chukovsky (his role is still underappreciated), Lidia Chukovska, Gumilov, and Pasternak.
“As a political entity, Russia is represented, for me, by Sakharov, with whom I had the honor of working in the Supreme Council of the USSR. I know what his views were and the role he played in the political history of his country.
“There is also the kind of Russia that is represented by my peers — Gladylin, Aksionov, and Voinovich, whom I know and respect. We worked together in the journal Yunost, which at the time brought together the most progressive writers and journalists. We went to Moscow as to the Mecca of freedom. This also shaped a special attitude to democratic Russia. When I became a writer, I grasped the importance of this democratic Russia in culture. The Russian democratic tradition, the tradition of freedom, has always been powerful. Naturally, many Ukrainian democrats who studied in Russia highly valued (and still do) this aspect of the country.
“At the same time, a different Russia was emerging from the ruins of the Soviet Union — the imperialist, chauvinistic Russia that is now threatening its neighbors with its dark sides. I hated, and still do, the Russia of Stalin and Andropov. Unfortunately, this is what is now being presented to us as something just a notch short of official ideology, while the crimes it committed are being hushed up. Stalin is being proclaimed an ‘efficient manager,’ whereas he was, in fact, a butcher with hands stained by the blood of millions. Our understanding of effective management is drastically different.
“My attitude to Russia as represented by its people and art is a very warm one. However, I decry Russian xenophobia, chauvinism, imperial sentiments, and, above all, hatred toward Ukraine. Even though it was not so long ago when the entire official Soviet propaganda system was blaring about the brotherhood of nations, especially the Ukrainian and Russian peoples, Russia continues to be double-faced, complicated, and ambiguous. Time is on the side of the democratic, European Russia, rather than the despotic state that Europeans often perceive it to be now.
“The regime that has been set up by the KGB men is historically unique. Never before had secret services headed a state. But this is only an episode in the life of a large country and a great people. Every Ukrainian democrat would say: we want to be friends with Russia, but on an equal footing. We want to be friends with the kind of Russia that does not view as an object of manipulations involving our territory, independence, and freedom.”
