Few people seem to doubt that we are doomed to spend a long time resolving the language problem. There are plenty of reasons, but when you come across stories like the case of Luhansk student Serhii Melnychuk, the sources of our language misfortunes become hopelessly understandable.
As reported earlier, this story began in 2002, when Melnychuk forwarded a letter to the Luhansk City Council, to which its bureaucrats replied in Russian. Serhii responded by suing the bureaucrats and demanding an apology in writing. Lawyers for the state employees won the case, but the claimant appealed the case to the Lenin District Court of Luhansk, demanding 10,000 hryvnias for moral damages. In June 2003 Justice Olha Matveishyna ruled that the claim had no legal grounds. That did not stop Melnychuk. He wrote to MP Levko Lukianenko, asking the renowned human rights champion to help have the case adjudicated objectively. Lukianenko recommended the European Court of Human Rights and advised Melnychuk to get busy with linguistic enlightening activities in the meantime. In September 2003 the Luhansk Regional Court of Appeal ruled that the actions of the city councilmen were unlawful but denied compensation, as the judges did not see that any moral damages had been inflicted. All other instances upheld the ruling. Now the Melnychuk case is being heard in Strasbourg.
Unfortunately, the unstoppable Melnychuk’s hopes for changes for the better after the Orange Revolution, in which he took an active part, quickly ran up against the reality of treachery and compromise. Single-handedly he proceeded to solve a problem that long ago should have been shouldered by the state and society.
Last summer Melnychuk enrolled in the correspondence department of the Faculty of Mass Communications at Dal Eastern Ukrainian National University, majoring in journalism. He made this choice because the lectures were supposed to be in Ukrainian, and seminars were supposed to be held in a language chosen by the majority of students in a given class. However, at the very outset it became clear that the lecturers had no intentions of using the official language. The principled student spoke to senior lecturer Iryna Shepeleva, who found no better response than to hold a demonstrative poll of his fellow students, who declared that they wanted only Russian as the language of instruction.
Melnychuk followed the well-trodden path from one instance to the next. Rector Leonid Holubenko invited him for an interview and explained that there were no language restrictions, that Ukrainian should indeed be used more actively, but that Russian happened to be historically predominant in the region. However, the rector’s official reply read that teaching was being done only in the official [sic] language.
Melnychuk had no choice but to claim damages to his constitutional rights at the Zhovtnevy District Court of Luhansk and demand compensation in the amount of 10,000 hryvnias. The claimant’s perseverance and Lukianenko’s support produced results, and the case started being adjudicated in substance. The respondent, in the person of Dean Tetiana Myronova of the Faculty of Mass Communications, persisted in arguing that there were no language restrictions at the university. In response to such controversial statements, to put it mildly, the claimant increased the amount of damages sought to 20,000 hryvnias.
The final hearing took place on Nov. 6. Justice Inga Charkina announced the verdict that “the facts of violations by the respondent of the claimant’s right to receive a higher education in the official language have been established.” The EUNU was obligated to teach Serhii Melnychuk in keeping with current legislation and pay him 10,000 hryvnias in compensation.
Was this a happy ending? Did justice reign supreme? Not by a long shot.
First, the case remains open. On Dec. 4 the university administration published a statement indicating that the ratio of those studying in Ukrainian and Russian is 30:70, and special classes with Ukrainian as the language of instruction will be formed, if so desired by the majority of students majoring in certain sciences. Also, and most importantly, the university stated that the court ruling would be appealed. Melnychuk forestalled this move by filing an appeal claiming moral damages in the amount of 20,000 hryvnias.
Second, the Jesuitical formula “if so desired by students...” is reminiscent of the bad old Soviet school where no one seemed to forbid instruction in Ukrainian, but the choice was left up to parents. If they wanted to, their children would study their native language; if not, so be it. Thus, the use of Ukrainian was reduced to a minimum, and several generations grew up not knowing a word of Ukrainian and nothing about our national literature — so much for that “objective” reality that took shape “historically” to which the university administration is referring.
In keeping with the Soviet Constitution, the Communist Party was considered the only ruling one. Is this worth observing as well? Why not? That is also a historical tradition, one that lasted for so many years. But it was abolished because that was the people’s will, and it was not that difficult to do. Nor will it be too difficult to actually start doing something about the language problem that concerns far more people than just Melnychuk.
But instead of concrete actions they keep prattling about objective realities or simply pulling the wool over people’s eyes (somehow the above proportions appear to be of that very order). Therefore, they don’t actually want to change anything. Another question immediately presents itself: why does the above-mentioned university have “national” status? Why is it a national university, and a national university of Ukraine, to boot, if within its walls the official language is despised?
Third, the whole thing would be funny if it weren’t so sad. Why do individual people have to struggle to protect their right to speak their native language in their own country? Why are they so quickly tagged as renegades and regarded as almost urban crazies? Why do they have to endure all the dirt that their opponents, who are organized and confident in their strength, start hurling at them, seeing their isolation and total absence of support from the state? There is no way of stopping them with the well-known expression that if there are no concrete objections, you start getting personal. How long will our society live in this absurd condition that would make Kafka spin in his grave?
On a personal note, I must add that I grew up in a Russian-speaking milieu and began speaking and writing Ukrainian a little over a year ago. This makes me feel considerably richer. I regret I didn’t do this earlier.
Serhii Melnychuk’s letter, below, has been slightly abridged without changing the author’s style:
To be or not to be?
After Channel UT-1’s coverage of the results of the court hearing of my complaint concerning the violation of my constitutional rights in the sphere of language usage in V. Dal Eastern Ukrainian National University, I began to receive calls from newspaper and television reporters, who wanted an interview on this subject. A female reporter asked where I was born and raised. I told her that I was born in the town of Sukhodilsk, Luhansk oblast. The reporter knew that almost all the residents of Sukhodilsk communicate in Russian, so my reply was a big surprise for her.
To her next question, “Why are you so determined to defend your right to receive a higher education in Ukrainian?” I replied: “Once, in the aftermath of certain fateful events that affect a person like a cold shower, I told myself, ‘I am Ukrainian. I live in Ukraine, in the historical land of my forefathers. Yet by and large I can hardly put a couple of words together in my native Ukrainian language, the language of my parents.’ And so I asked myself, ‘Am I worthy of being called a human being?’
After such reflections, and as a matter of principle, I started using Ukrainian as a language of communication within the boundaries of Ukraine; naturally, with certain exceptions, as is the case with any rule.’
At the end of the interview, which the female reporter began in Russian and then tried to communicate with me in Ukrainian, she complimented me on my command of Ukrainian and after I thanked her for the compliment she promised that she would definitely learn Ukrainian...
Every individual has his criteria for everything...Therefore, in defending my constitutional right to get a higher education in the official Ukrainian language, I am not imposing any concepts on anyone. I am simply defending my natural right to continue and improve the culture and language of my parents in the historical land of my forefathers.
What course events will take and what will come of my legal claims at continuing my Cossack family tree and culture to a sovereign and independent Ukrainian state will show how much my ideas about the moral and cultural criteria of a modern individual conform to the criteria of contemporary Ukrainian society.
