There have been few real heroes of spirit and freedom at all times and in all lands. Still, their role is significant, especially in the final reckoning. Without such people it is impossible to preserve that intellectual “ozone layer” of society, which guarantees all of us not just existence but a promising future as well. In Ukraine, on a par with Ivan Franko and Lesia Ukrayinka, a special role in the history of its public thought, literature, and education – in the evolution of the national mentality as a whole – was played by Borys Hrinchenko (1863-1910), a person who displayed an unbreakable will to freedom, ardent love of his native land, amazing capacity for work, and astounding erudition.
Hrinchenko’s role in Ukraine at the time is evidenced by Ivan Franko (also of phenomenal industry), who said in 1906, “I have been amazed by your energy, perseverance, and the broad range of your literary and public interests.” The great Ukrainian composer Mykola Lysenko was even more eloquent, speaking at the writer’s funeral, “There are few other such tireless and dedicated public figures as the late Borys Hrinchenko in the Ukrainian literary pantheon – three or four, not more.”
Do Hrinchenko’s works belong to that respected but somewhat less than legacy of things to be remembered but not used? Suffice it to read his Letters from Naddniprianshchyna (1892-93) as part of his famous debate with Mykhailo Drahomanov, dozens of articles carried by the Hromadska dumka (at the time the best Ukrainian language sociopolitical patriotic daily newspaper, founded by Hrinchenko in 1906) in order to realize that his ideas are quite relevant today, because they help us establish the reasons for many of our own shortcomings and ills.
DIAGNOSING PAIN
What is happening to the Ukrainian intelligentsia? Why can we not rid ourselves of our age-old disease, our inability to work meticulously and painstakingly, our fear of actual deeds (or maybe our reluctance to really do something)? Hrinchenko raised these nagging questions time and again in his publicist, pedagogical, and fiction writings. It should be noted that he was a man of concrete effort; he always meant business – although not in the sense we use the expression these days. Thus he, of all people, was in a position to study and diagnose that disease.
Prof. Anatoly Pohribny, Ukraine’s leading researcher of Hrinchenko, quotes M. Cherniavsky as saying that “Hrinchenko worked more than he lived.” Perfectly true, never an overstatement! Cherniavsky recalls Hrinchenko complaining in 1903 (he was at Hrinchenko’s) that he had no opportunity to marvel the awakening of nature [in spring]:
“‘No, I’m not free,’ he said mournfully.
“‘What’s keeping you here now?’
“Hrinchenko pointed to stacks of file cards. (he was then immersed in work on his four volume Dictionary of the Ukrainian Language — Author) ‘That’s what’s holding me. I won’t be free until I’m through with this.’
“‘Still much left?’
“‘I’ve just reached the letter —,’ and I knew he still had a long way to go.”
Borys Hrinchenko thus formulated his credo, “You have to work, work, and work. We are oxen under the yoke. Yet even oxen will eventually plow the field, then peasants will sow their seeds, and then sprouts will grow and blossom” (this quote is from one of his letters written when he was twenty). The writer proved the correctness of his words with his life: “Circumstances are circumstances, and we are what we are.” Born to an impoverished aristocratic family (no one spoke Ukrainian, and he would later admit that the general atmosphere was that of Moscow patriotism with even a touch of chauvinism), Borys was destined to become a classic of Ukrainian culture. At 15 he found himself in prison and contracted the tuberculosis that would kill him before he reached 47. His daughter Nastia died young, unable to withstand the torture of putting up with the tsarist gendarme atmosphere. More than symbolically, his friends put a crown of thorns in his coffin.
Hrinchenko thus had every right to pass a severe but fair judgment on the Ukrainian intelligentsia of the time. “They love talking about ‘poor, poor, weeping Mother-Ukraine’ with nobody to help her. Then they immediately add that there is no way to help her under the circumstances. Then start listing all those hard circumstances. Yes, they are hard, but they get even harder because all these gentlemen are patriots only in words. Apart from never working hard on any regular basis, they won’t even part with little money to help (and this is far easier than working day by day, never expecting recognition, let alone remuneration)” (Letters from Naddniprianshchyna, 1892).
Whence comes this monstrous phenomenon, the Ukrainian intellectual’s paralysis of will? Borys Hrinchenko had an unambiguous answer: the lack of solidarity among Ukrainians, human as well as national. “We are so disunited, so very individualistic, we sometimes cannot even cope with the simplest problem together. Once we decide to join hands to do something, we find ourselves with different views and then acting differently. Even the most trivial matter sometimes gives rise to argument, heated debate, as though it were of the highest importance. Such antagonism, even within a small group going about some business, becomes increasingly evident, reaching the point where the group falls apart and whatever that group was doing is lost.” His inference was hopelessly bitter: “In reality, we have no Ukrainian intelligentsia, just so many individual Ukrainian intellectuals.” Naturally, just as now far from all agreed with his view, yet the very fact that it caused debate is evidence that, if not perfectly right, he had a point.
ANALGESIA
What was to be done? How could one break the vicious circle which the writer rather aptly described, “It seems a vicious circle of sorts; differing views beget differing public efforts; differing public efforts – and the attendant need to figure out everything by oneself – beget differing public views, and so on...” What could be done to change this situation presenting the Ukrainians in such a disgraceful view of “the herd living only to stuff their bellies and remain the strongest, setting the tone?”
The writer had his own answer; one must retain a humane and national ideal (even if just barely) along with a belief in good and progress in both the world and Ukraine. There will be no hope as long as our intelligentsia (with few exceptions) remains unbelieving in the broadest sense, so that in response to words about good and truth you can always hear the haughty question, What is good? or What is truth? This lack of faith is reflected in our national intelligentsia. It is that evil which we must combat with all our might.” (Italicized in the original)
Another thing to be done is to uproot “servility, the slave spirit which has compelled our fellow countrymen to punish themselves just to please their masters.” Remaining true to himself, Hrinchenko analyzed the origin of this disease: “It all came down to the Ukrainian public figure having a divided soul, Ukrainian and Russian (how true! Look at our own day — Author). The intellectual at that time was torn apart by the love of his native land and a desire to wear the Order of St. Stanislav [a coveted Russian nobleman’s award, worn on a ribbon]; he wanted to do his homeland a good turn and also please those who could give him that Stanislav.”
His opponent in the well-known 1892-93 debate, Mykhailo Drahomanov, it should be noted, did not and could not object to Hrinchenko’s sincere impassioned desire for a true revival of Ukrainian national dignity, freedom, language, and culture. At the same time, he correctly pointed out that the national intelligentsia “began to form during the Cossack period from among most variegated national elements: Ukrainians, Poles, Wallachians, Tatars, Serbs, even Greeks, Jews, and later Muscovites. All that diversified class could not form a model following the lower Ukrainian social element’s example and, considering the eighteenth century environment, was forced to model itself according to the Russian aristocratic standard. To Ukrainize it, we will need more time and democratic ideas.” Here time has proved Drahomanov right.
Hrinchenko’s entire life and staggering creative heritage, however, is also proof that he foresaw the main thing; Ukraine’s hope is in hard daily work (without expecting instant miracles) and in belief in a happier future. These two approaches, begetting and nurturing each other, is the fulcrum that will make it possible to affix the Sisyphean stone of the Ukrainian spirit to the summit.
