in Bed With an Elephant Cultural Wars and Rival Identities in Contemporary Ukraine

7/31/2019 in Bed With an Elephant Cultural Wars and Rival Identities in Contemporary Ukraine

1/17

In Bed with an Elephant: Cultural Wars and Rival Identities in Contemporary Ukraine

Written by Mykola Riabchuk

The metaphor used in the title of this paper was coined by the former Canadian prime minister

Pierre Trudeau who, in his 1969 speech at the Washington Press Club, said that sharing a land

mass with a neighbor richer and more powerful than oneself was like sleeping with an elephant.

"No matter how even-tempered and friendly the beast, one is affected by every twitch and

grunt" [Kennedy 1996, viii]. Since then, many authors, both in Canada and elsewhere, haveapplied this metaphor to describe an uneasy survival of their cultures in the shadow of

neighboring elephants. As a matter of fact, in the age of globalization any national culture is

threatened by some stronger species, of which perhaps the strongest 'beast' is allegedly

cosmopolitan, but basically American mass culture. Ukrainian culture is challenged primarily by

Russian culture - the culture of the former metropolis which has largely preserved its superior

position in Ukraine and, what is even more harmful, held on to its role as a mediator between

world culture and native Ukrainian recipients. As long as Western mass culture is spread in

Ukraine in Russian translation (video, magazines, pulp fiction, TV shows, etc.), it cannot be

considered as a separate player, or 'another threat', but merely as an integral part of the

Russian cultural invasion and neocolonial domination.Political and economic analysts still disagree as to whether (and to what degree) Ukraine was a

political and economic 'internal colony' of Russia. For the cultural analysts, however, the

question is obvious. From their point of view, Ukrainians clearly represented the inferior,

peripheral part of the imperial culture. The central, superior part of this culture was created in

Russia, specifically in Moscow, and based on the Russian language, Russian historical

narratives, national symbols and myths. In its visible content and in its hidden ideological

messages, this culture consciously pursued or subconsciously supported the colonial policy of

the imperial centre. As an effective means of psychological subjugation and political domination

it clearly followed the general pattern described by the students of colonialism:

Cultural phenomena (works of art, cultural institutions, processes in the cultural life of a society)

may be regarded as colonial if they contribute to the entrenchment or development of imperial

power - by diminishing the prestige, narrowing the field of operation, limiting the visibility of, or

even destroying, that which is local and autochthonous, in a word, colonial, while underscoring

the dignity, global significance, modernity, necessity and naturalness of that which is

metropolitan or central [Pavlyshyn 1993, 116]

Little surprise that the 'universal', 'superior' character of Russian culture and language was

accepted not only by Russians themselves but also by many people belonging to other Soviet

nationalities. In fact, only the Balts and western Ukrainians (and perhaps certain Belarusian,

Moldovan and Georgian intellectuals), with their semi-real, semi-mythical sense of belonging tothe culturally 'superior' West, did not internalize the inferiority complexes imposed by the

dominant culture, and stubbornly insisted on their spiritual ties with the 'real', 'more central'

cultural Center somewhere in the West rather than in Moscow.

Since the collapse of the USSR, Russian culture has by and large maintained its strong

position in the former Soviet republics for a number of reasons.

First, it has remained a culture of high international reputation and indisputable achievements.

Whether one likes it or not, Russian culture belongs to the 'top ten' or even 'top five' world

cultures of the last two centuries.

Second, it is mediated by a powerful language which until 1991 was one of the 'international'

languages and still remains at least the important regional language, a lingua francafor boththe post-Soviet republics and many post-communist countries, from Vietnam and Mongolia to

1 / 17


2/17



Poland and Eastern Germany.

Third, Russian culture is the culture of a country with relatively strong economic, political, and

military resources; Russian cultural presence in the post-Soviet republics not only facilitates

Russia's political and economic influence but, in turn, is also facilitated by its relative economic,

political, military, and demographic strength.And, last but not least, Russian has culture has inherited most of the structures and institutions,

the material and human resources of the former Soviet Empire. This includes not only major

museums and libraries, the best universities and research institutions, TV and film-studios,

publishing houses and periodicals, but also the best qualified professionals in various fields who

used to come to the imperial centre from all over the USSR to pursue their ambitious careers.

As a result, few efforts proved to be necessary on the part of the Russian state to keep Russian

culture highly competitive and influential in virtually all the post-Soviet republics. Needless to

say, this situation is perceived rather cautiously by both cultural and political elites in the 'new

independent states'. First of all, on the surface, they are quite reasonably afraid of the political

and ideological subversion that Russian culture and, particularly, the mass media may exportinto their native domains. These concerns are substantiated by the fact that Russian culture

more often than not sends out (neo)imperial, vindictive, politically and culturally biased

messages, and the fact that significant Russian minorities in post-Soviet states seem to be very

susceptible to perceived Russian 'propaganda'.

Yet, below the surface, there is an even more profound concern. Native elites are quite

reasonably afraid that their own populations, especially heavily Russified/Sovietized parts of

them, may become the main target of Russian cultural and, therefore, political/ideological

influence. Such a perceived threat seems to be the most plausible in the countries where the

Russian and Russophone population is very strong - as in Ukraine, Belarus, Kazakhstan,

Kyrgyzstan, and where - unlike in Latvia or Estonia - the native cultures are not sufficientlystrong or self-confident to fight back against the metropolitan rival.

The Ukrainian case is the major concern of this paper, as the most interesting, complex and

perhaps most important area in view of further (geo)political developments. The problem I shall

address, within the framework of postcolonial studies, is that of Russia's cultural influence in the

'near abroad' and the probable consequences of this influence for both Russia and the 'new

independent states', particularly for Ukraine.

First, I shall examine how the cultural situation is perceived by the opposing sides in Ukraine,

and then argue that their mutual misperception stems largely from the intrinsic ambivalence of

the Ukrainian situation in general and from the highly ambiguous, incoherent and inconsistent

policy pursued by the Ukrainian authorities in particular. This ambivalence, as some scholarsinsist, comes from the fact that neither de-communization (de-Sovietization) nor de-colonization

(de-Russification) has properly taken place in Ukraine, as it did in Poland, or the Czech

Republic, or the Baltic States. In cultural terms this means that the hottest discussions in

Ukraine are not, in fact, about minority rights, their scale and practical implementation, but about

a much more profound and still unresolved question: who is a minority, and who are the

majority? Is Ukraine to be built as a Ukrainian nation-state with a separate language and

culture, or as a Russian 'Creole' state (in the Belarusian, Transdnistrian or Crimean style) -

where the Sovietized Russian language and culture still predominate?

This ardent struggle, some scholars contend, largely determines the future of Russia itself -

whether it will ever become a 'normal' nation-state alongside a 'normal' Ukraine or whether it willre-absorb the crypto-Soviet 'Little Russia' (Soviet 'White Russia', Soviet Transdnistria, and so

2 / 17


3/17



on) and reestablish itself once more as the imperial 'Great Russia'. Ukrainian nation-builders, I

shall argue at the end of this paper, face two major constraints. On the one hand, they cannot

preserve the colonial status quo and allow the Russian language and culture to continue to

dominate the country. Such a country, like Belarus, would have rather dubious legitimacy in the

eyes of both the international community and its own citizens. It would inevitably evoke further're-unification' fever in Russia and 'anti-unification' fever at home. The 'cold civil war' in the

country would be protracted into an indefinite future.

On the other hand, Ukrainian nation-builders cannot simply ignore the fact that Russians are

not just another minority in Ukraine, and that Russian language and culture is not one of many

minority languages and cultures. It would be impossible to completely eliminate or alienate

Russian culture and language in Ukraine, due to a number of serious internal and external

factors. The practical steps taken so far, as well as the propagandistic rhetoric, may destabilize

the situation within Ukraine and badly harm Ukraine's international image. Instead, I would

argue, the Ukrainian authorities and cultural activists should effectively adopt certain Western

policies in the field of culture. First and foremost, they should state clearly that state protectionfor the national language and culture, affirmative action on behalf of the socially disadvantaged

and marginalized groups, as well as positive discrimination on behalf of the 'weaker' languages

and cultures, are not at odds with the profound values of liberal democracy and the multicultural

state. The Canadian, Flemish, Catalan, Welsh experiences should be carefully examined and

appropriated.

Such a policy would not be easy to implement. But this, in fact, is the only policy that may

effectively facilitate Ukrainian nation-state building and, in the long run, Russian nation-state

building as well. A nation, as modern scholars rightly point out, can be defined as "a

backward-looking community whose members share a primordial sense of common

genealogical and geographic origin, and also as a forward-looking, modern political interestgroup whose members share a desire to control their own destiny" [Chinn & Kaiser 1996, 18].

The latter idea, as the Orange revolution suggested, would seem to be predominant in Ukraine,

thereby giving good but not necessarily rosy prospects for the nation's development.

Colonialism denial

The sensitive and controversial issue of Russian (and Russian-Soviet) colonialism in Ukraine

and, subsequently, of 'Russification,' seems to remain an intellectual puzzle for many liberal

intellectuals, caught between two mentalities: that of the Ukrainian 'nationalistic' depiction of the

"historic relationship between Ukrainians and the Russian and Soviet states in terms of culturalsubjugation, economic exploitation, forced assimilation, and genocide"; and that of the Russian

imperialistic concept of peaceful and voluntary assimilation into a higher culture through

"intermarriage, mobility, and the media".

The major academic confusion stems from the fact that Ukrainians are not racially different

from Russians and, moreover, had not been ethnically distinguished from Russians in the

former tsarist Russian empire. Naturally, they were not, and could not be, discriminated against

- because they were treated officially merely as a regional - 'Little Russian' - brand of the same

'Russian' people. Yet, they were oppressed and persecuted in the harshest way as soon as

they implied that they were somehow 'other'. As Alexander Motyl aptly remarked, "good

Russian subjects were Russians dedicated to Orthodox ideology and Tsarist power" [Motyl1998, 23].

3 / 17


4/17



Any baptized Jew or Muslim could become a good Russian (and even more Russian than the

Russians - as the ethnic origins of many members of the imperial elite confirm). By the same

token, any Ukrainian (Kazakh, Georgian, Jew) could be a good Soviet citizen if he/she was

wholeheartedly dedicated to communist ideology and Soviet power. Indeed, ethnicity was not a

problem (neither in Russia, nor in the USSR) - so long as an 'ethnic' accepted, in Motyl's words,"the 'leading role' of the Great Russian people, the primacy of the Russian language as a

vehicle of international communication, the 'friendship of peoples', the continuity between

Russian imperial and Soviet history, and proletarian internationalism". [Motyl 1998, 23] - or, in

the case of the tsarist empire, loyalty to the tsar and Orthodox Christianity.

In his earlier book Will the Non-Russians Rebel?Alexander Motyl provided an excellent

account of how the mechanisms of Russification worked, and where the real ethno-linguistic

discrimination began:

Language use has a potent symbolic quality in a politicized linguistic environment: it

immediately assigns the user to one of two sides of the ideological barricade (...) Oleksa Tykhyiand Vasyl' Romaniuk, both former Ukrainian dissidents (...) were fully aware of this symbolism

when they quixotically exhorted their countrymen to protest against the state's preference for

Russian by speaking Ukrainian 'not only in the family, but also at work, in public activity, and on

the street'. The use of Ukrainian, they realized, is tantamount to opposition to the Soviet state

(...) Although no laws forbid deviations from this behavioral norm (as one Soviet Ukrainian

representative once told me, no one 'is holding a gun to their heads'), non-Russians in general

and Ukrainians in particular appear to understand that insistence on speaking one's native

language - especially among Russians - will be perceived as rejection of the 'friendship of

peoples' and as hostility to the 'Soviet people'. Precisely because Ukrainian and Russian are

mutually intelligible, using Ukrainian in relations with Russian-language speakers is so obviouslyan affront against the spirit, if not quite the letter, of Russification policy as to qualify the

obstinate user as a 'Banderite', 'Petliurite', 'bourgeois nationalist', or, minimally, an ungrateful

sibling of the 'elder brother' (...) Few Ukrainians are audacious enough to risk such

unpleasantness as public censure, loss of employment, or even jail for the sake of linguistic

purity. As a result, they signal their loyalty to the state and sidestep chauvinist reactions by

speaking Russian. [Motyl 1987, 100-101].

Symptomatically, the deniers of colonialism and Russification never refer to any analytical

works on the topic, favoring instead various types of 'anti-nationalistic' (and 'nationalistic')

journalism, combined with a Soviet-style rhetoric on the "common development of two peoples

close in language, culture and historical past"; on the "two cultures sufficiently intertwined to beconsidered a broad transitional stratum"; and, of course, on the "common Eurasian space" and

the "harmonious unity of the east Slavic peoples." In moderate, seemingly academic

statements, they simply imply, uncritically, that

"there has always been a voluntary crossover between what were never in any case completely

separate cultural spheres. The present language situation in Ukraine cannot therefore be

explained solely in terms of the actions of 'zealous Russifiers'" [Wilson 1998, 133; my italics].

In more radical statements, however, they adamantly deny the very existence of a separate

Ukrainian nation, presenting it as a sinister Western, Polish-Austrian-Jewish-masonic plot. They

argue that 'true', i.e. 'normal', i.e. Russophone Ukrainians should make common cause withethnic Russians against nationalist Ukrainophones in western Ukraine, thereby turning the

4 / 17


5/17



Galicians with their peculiar history into the 'other'. "Urban Galicians", according to the Party of

Slavonic Unity of Ukraine, "are a nation formed out of passive Slavdom, a national-aggressive

type of world Jewry, relics of ethnically embedded Armenians, Germans, Hungarians, Tatars,

Poles, Lemkos, Boikos and others, mixed together after the Austrian revolution of 1848-1849."

They, not Russians, are the true 'fifth column' in Ukraine [quoted in Wilson 1998, 137].Uncritical references to emotional, essayistic texts as though they represented serious

arguments, unavoidably lead even serious authors into making curious contradictions and

illogical assumptions. For example, on one page, a Western scholar sympathetically quotes a

Ukrainian Russophone intellectual who claims that "there was no real 'ethnic division of labour'

in Ukraine under the USSR. Russians and Ukrainians worked side by side." And on the next

page, as though ignoring what had been said a paragraph before, she resumes: "Historical

intermingling and high levels of mixed marriage in eastern and southern Ukraine mean that

'passport' ethnicity is often fairly meaningless" [Wanner 1998, 134].

Obviously, if the latter is true (and it is!), then the former view (idyllic, in the style of Soviet

propaganda posters showing scenes of Russian-Ukrainian co-operation 'side by side') ought tobe defined by a non-partisan scholar as not so true, in other words - as a myth, one of the basic

myths of the Little Russian [omit hyphen] consciousness. But to abandon mythmaking and to

accept the logic, would mean to arrive at a very different view of 'Little Russianism',

Russification, etc., - exactly at the point where certain other scholars had arrived some time

ago:

As a form of self-accommodation, Russian-language use may be called 'Little Russianization', a

term derived from an earlier nomenclature for Ukrainians and one we may now employ to

denote an acceptance, however unwilling, of non-Russian subordination to Russian ethnic

hegemony. Little Russians, generically understood, are unlikely to challenge Russian societalhegemony or Russian dominance of the Soviet state, since their use of Russian as a language

of ritualized social intercourse has provided them with secure niches in the structure of Russian

ethnic power (...) Little Russianization acts as a behavioral filter: officials or workers willing to

use Russian at the workplace are declaring their loyalty to the state. With respect to elites in

particular, I hypothesize that only those non-Russians who act as Little Russians will advance

up the nomenclatura ladder. Those who do not behave properly will be weeded out at each

progressively higher level of the state. John Armstrong hints at just such a process when he

writes that 'Ukrainians (and to a lesser extent Belorussians) have been employed in key control

and managerial positions throughout the USSR and abroad. This is concrete evidence that

members of these groups are not discriminated against if they acquire the proper education andsubmit to Russification' [Motyl 1987, 103].

This is a direct answer to both assumptions - that the 'passport' ethnicity was meaningless and

that neither Ukrainians nor Russians were discriminated against because of their ethnicity. Both

assumptions are true but they are true only in relation to the various brands of the Soviet people

- 'Little Russians', 'Little Uzbeks', 'Little Latvians' and other folk who accepted the role of a 'little'

brother (like Friday vis--vis Robinson Crusoe) and submitted to Russification-Sovietization, and

who thus, as Motyl points out, opted for a "behavioral conformity."

The Legacy of colonialism

The colonial legacy which badly hampers not only cultural but also political and economical

5 / 17


6/17



development of contemporary Ukraine, was comprehensively analyzed by the American

anthropologist Oksana Grabowicz as early as 1993 in her presentation at the International

Congress of Ukrainian Studies Specialists in Lviv [Grabowicz 1995]. She argued in particular

that centuries of colonial subjugation have led to a perverse impact on both the colonizers and

the colonized. The former have gradually developed a superior attitude towards the 'inferior'indigenous culture. Meanwhile, the latter have deeply internalized this attitude, evolving

inferiority complexes and accepting a stereotypical, 'Oriental' view of themselves, imposed by

the colonizers. Such a view of Ukraine is nothing new. The prominent nineteenth-century

Russian critic Vissarion Belinsky, who labeled Ukrainians as 'cast iron headed', and his

Ukrainian contemporary Mykola Hohol' (a.k.a. Nikolai Gogol), who wrote rather sympathetically

about 'Little Russian' songs and dances, had something very important in common. Both

considered Ukraine to be an exotic, uncivilized borderland which once had a glorious past and a

great folklore which was now naturally disappearing and doomed to be assimilated into a

superior culture.

To uncover this mechanism of colonial subjugation, Grabowicz employed C.G. Jung's conceptof the 'collective shadow', defined as "a dark side of man, the unconscious, the negative, the

destructive, and self-destructive tendencies and desires in the psyche." When the shadow is

severely repressed the negative contents of the unconscious are activated and forced out as

projections onto external objects. Eventually, these projections come to be perceived as

qualities of the 'Other' - as a person, group or nation. Hence, the collective shadow of the

dominant society (its subconscious negative self-image), when projected onto the oppressed

group over a long period of time, exerts a destructive influence on it because the group begins

to identify itself with such a projection. Ultimately, it loses confidence in its own qualities (the

qualities of its culture and society) and increasingly adopts the colonizer's view as 'superior':

"The subordinated group in the end becomes a despised minority in their own native land"[Grabowicz 1995, 8].

Ukrainian society shows a remarkable similarity to other colonized societies, in terms of the

patterns and syndromes already described and elaborated at length by Frantz Fanon,

Volodymyr Odajnyk and many other students of colonialism. One may also discern a similarity

between the assimilation processes taking place in the Russian 'near abroad', particularly in

Ukraine, and those in the 'Celtic fringe', as explored extensively by Western scholars:

The conscious rationale behind anglicisation among the peripheral elite was to dissociate

themselves as much as possible from the mass of their countrymen, who were so strongly

deprecated by English culture. Thus, they eagerly learned to speak English in the home, toemulate English manners and attitudes, to style their very lives on the English model. In effect,

this was a voluntary renunciation of their national origins [Hechter 1975, 24].

In Ukraine the distinction between the two rival groups is basically cultural and linguistic, not

racial. Therefore, the problem of the social inferiority of the aboriginal kolkhozslaves (and their

heirs) has been resolved (or at least cushioned) in a manner that would be unthinkable in Africa

or America: by passing for white in the manner of Michael Jackson; in other words, by

discarding the 'lower', 'black' Ukrainian vernacular and adopting the 'higher', 'white' Russian

tongue. As a result, Russification and cultural Creolization of East Ukrainian rural aborigines

may well continue, despite the formal national independence of Ukraine and even after the

granting of official status to the indigenous language.More often than not the converted aborigines are ashamed of their autochthonous background

6 / 17


7/17



(e.g. of their Ukrainian-speaking parents) and are even less inclined than ethnic Russians to

show any interest in Ukrainian culture, which they consider inferior. Despite the fact that

Ukrainian culture of the 20th century and, particularly, of the last decade has produced

significant, internationally recognized, achievements, even the best Ukrainian books,

magazines, films or music are not in demand in 'Ukrainian' cities, whereas third-rate massculture imported from Moscow (or from America, though in Russian translation) is consumed by

the aboriginal 'immigrants' from the rural (until now Ukrainophone) 'Third World' areas. Many

people still tend to believe that "there just aren't any good books published in Ukrainian" [Weir

2000], or that "practically none of the professional newspaper people in the country write in its

language" [Gorina 2000], or that in Ukrainian "the words did not exist to describe certain many

modern concepts, or objects" [Slackman 2000].

All this is simply not true: there are many excellent books published in Ukrainian, both original

Ukrainian texts and translated works (to mention only the complete works of Shakespeare

praised by experts, or philosophical classics from Plato and Seneca to Wittgenstein and

Foucault); and there are dozens of talented journalists writing primarily in Ukrainian (includingthe late Heorhiy Gongadze whose mysterious murder caused the greatest political scandal in

Ukraine's current history). Meanwhile the language itself, at least since the 'Ukrainization'

campaign of the 1920s, is intricate, rich and flexible enough to cover any topic, however

sophisticated.

No expert has yet questioned the viability of modern Ukrainian culture and language. Even

presumably 'biased' Russian historians recognize that "by the end of the 19th century, despite

the discrimination in the sphere of the humanities (the restrictions on book publishing, the ban

on Ukrainian schooling, judiciary, etc.), the major components of Ukrainian national cultural life

had been formed (a national literature, historiography, professional theatre, music, and so on)

that this facilitated the national movement" [Mikhutina 1997, 197].

Th[e] gradual and initially almost imperceptible intrusion of the West as a model into Ukrainian

cultural consciousness, - a Canadian scholar avers, - displaced the ubiquitous, defining

presence of the empire. The imagining of Ukraine in a European framework - and the

corresponding rejection of the all-Russian/imperial context - was a profound paradigm shift that

allowed Ukrainian culture to view itself not as a subsystem or a complement, but as a complete

world in its own right, equivalent (if not in fact, at least potentially) to all other self-contained

European national cultural systems. By embracing Europe as a point of reference, Ukraine

symbolically transformed itself from a dependent provincial culture in an empire to an

independent national culture within a European framework. Ukrainian culture could now beimagined as accommodating both the "high" and the "low" within itself [Ilnytzkyj 2003, 314-315].

At the grass-roots level, however, ignorance reigns supreme, paving the way for biased

thinking and stereotyping. Many Ukrainians, even Ukrainophones, still have a rather caricatured

view of the Ukrainian culture promoted by the Soviet school system and the colonial

propaganda. They perceive it as consisting primarily of a great but largely irrelevant folklore, of

a canon of not-so-bad but quite outdated and therefore boring 19th-century classics (focused

mostly on social issues and rural life), and of the weird 20th-century writing of 'socialist realism'.

As to the modern and genuinely appealing Ukrainian culture, they comes to be by and large

'ghettoized' within a relatively narrow circle of Ukrainophone intellectuals. Although

Ukrainophones make up at least half of the Ukraine's population (if not two thirds, as thecensuses claim), they represent primarily the provinces - towns and villages that have been

7 / 17


8/17


9/17


10/17



candidate against his Russophone rival in 1994 and, within a broader coalition, to win an

impressive victory for the pro-Ukrainian candidate against his pro-Russian rival ten years later.

Although they are a 'minority', they make up at least one third of Ukraine's population, have their

stronghold in Western Ukraine, predominate among the cultural/ humanitarian intelligentsia in

Kyiv, and have ardent supporters and sympathizers all over Ukraine, even in the Donbas andCrimea. They are a force to be reckoned with; actually they have been, until recently, the only

political force, apart from the communists, which can easily mobilize a great many supporters to

participate in political activities. In fact, the communists have been their only well-organized and

vociferous opponents. Such opponents, however, have discredited the Russian cause in

Ukraine rather than promoted it.

Yet the main reason why Ukrainian 'national democrats' (liberal nationalists) have a greater

influence on Ukrainian politics than might be expected from their relatively small number and

relatively marginal social status, is that they are not opposed by any clear majority - be it ethnic,

cultural, or linguistic. Ukrainian society is not divided along any clear geographic or ideological

line. As one Russian scholar aptly points out:

Even though the boundaries between Western Ukrainians and Russians may seem as strong

as those between Russians and Estonians, the boundaries between various Ukrainian groups in

actual contact (Ukrainophone Ukrainians, Russophone Ukrainians, Ukrainian Russians) are

fluid. [While the Ukrainophile minority, the author continues] provides the drive for a

nation-building effort (...) their nationalist drive is mediated by other less extreme groups... Thus

one may picture a 'ratchet-wheel', creeping assimilation from Western Ukraine on to Central

Ukraine and from there on to the rest of the country. Likewise, the process works from the

Ukrainian-speaking Ukrainians on to Russian-speaking ethnic Ukrainians, and then on to ethnic

Russian residents of Ukraine [Ponarin 2000, 1535-1537].In actuality, the picture is even more complex because none of the three major groups is

heterogeneous. Although Ukrainophone Ukrainians make up about two thirds of the population,

nearly half of them remain Ukrainophone rather by chance than conviction: they have simply not

been exposed to the Russification pressure in their villages; their ethno-cultural self-awareness,

however, remains very low.

On the other hand, there are many committed Ukrainophiles among Ukrainian Russophones

(as a matter of fact, the entire Ukrainian nationalism was born in this milieu in Kharkiv in the first

half of the 19th century, and only a few decades later was appropriated by West Ukrainian,

predominantly Polish- and German-speaking, intellectuals). While the entire Ukrainian

population is to varying degrees bilingual, a great many Ukrainian Russophones are bilingualparticularly and essentially: they speak more Russian than Ukrainian just because Russian is

the common language in the places where they live and work. In a Ukrainian environment they

easily change their communication patterns, thereby proving the term 'language of convenience'

(used by the sociologists) to be nearly as dubious as the term 'mother tongue' (used in the

censuses). In fact, the nearly 20% difference between the number of people who claim

Ukrainian to be their 'native language' (about 70%) [Janmaat 2000, 19-20] and those who claim

Ukrainian is their 'language of convenience' (about 50%) [Khmelko & Arel 1996, 86] reflects, on

the one hand, the rather high attachment of many Ukrainians to their 'mother tongue' and, on

the other hand, the rather low possibility for employing this 'tongue' in their everyday life in the

heavily Russified (and rather unfriendly to Ukrainian) East Ukrainian cities. In a sense, theambiguous linguistic identity of these people resembles the identity of many Ukrainian

10 / 17


11/17



immigrants to the West who still claim their 'native language' to be Ukrainian but find it much

more 'convenient' to communicate in English when living in Toronto or Philadelphia.

Meanwhile the third group, the Ukrainian Russians who made up 17% of the republic's

population in 2001, proves to be as ambivalent and heterogeneous in terms of ethnic identity as

the other two groups discussed above. According to the sociological data, five years after thefall of the Soviet Union, only 10% of Ukrainian Russians considered Russia to be their 'native

country', and only 5% (i.e. less than 1% of the entire population) did not consider themselves to

be Ukrainian citizens [Furman 1997, 283]. Another interesting phenomenon was that nearly all

of them agreed that their children/grandchildren should be fluent in Ukrainian; and nearly

one-third of them (two-thirds in Kyiv and in Lviv) confirmed that they would not mind their

children/grandchildren being instructed at school in Ukrainian [Bremer 1994]. This is an

apparent sign that many Russians in Ukraine, although they refuse (quite naturally) to be

'Ukrainized' themselves, are ready to accept the smooth 'Ukrainization' of their off-spring.

Despite the common view, Ukrainian nationalism is not ethnocentric - its major concern is

culture and language, not ethnicity. It is therefore inclusive, willing to embrace anybody whoaccepts Ukrainian culture and language, or who at least recognizes their uniqueness and their

need to be rescued. The two major arguments applied by the Ukrainophile activists in favour of

cultural protection are basically in line with the liberal tradition. The first appeals to the "intrinsic

value of culture," the second to "equal opportunity" [Bennett 1999, 679]. The first argument

addresses the uniqueness of Ukrainian language and culture and their absolute, irredeemable

value for both the Ukrainians and the whole world. The second argument emphasizes the need

to heal colonial wounds and boost the revival of Ukrainian language and culture through certain

measures of 'positive discrimination'.

The first argument, however, has little appeal for many Russians and even some Russophone

Ukrainians who are traditionally biased against Ukrainian culture and are not so sure whether itcould and should be rescued. The second argument is even less appealing to them because

they quite reasonably suspect that any 'positive discrimination' would have a clearly negative

impact on their own current linguistic and cultural dominance.

Thus, we may conclude that Ukrainian nationalism, which survived the harsh oppression of

previous decades, can be a viable force in resisting the ongoing Russification, or at leastin

successfully protecting its own 'spiritual' territory, its own 'imagined community' - that is one third

of Ukraine's inhabitants who definitely, by choice and conviction, identify themselves with the

Ukrainian Kulturnation. As the voting patterns of the 2002 and 2006 parliamentary and the 2004

presidential elections proved graphically, the moderate (civic rather than ethnic) forms of

Ukrainian nationalism have expanded their influence over a substantial part of the 'ambivalent'population in Central Ukraine, beyond the traditionally 'nationalistic' (albeit predominantly

Russian-speaking) city of Kyiv. Still, it is highly questionable whether Ukrainian civic, and not

necessarily ethnic, nationalism will be able to establish a firm footing in some regions and

among some segments of the population, which still tend to perceive its advance as a threat of

'Ukrainization'.

Ambiguous statism

The first attempt to systemically elaborate the cultural policy of the Ukrainian state was

undertaken as early as 1993-1994, by the Ministry of Culture of Ukraine, briefly headed at thetime by Ivan Dziuba, a prominent Ukrainian intellectual and renowned dissident of 1960s. Under

11 / 17


12/17



his auspices, a bright team of young experts analyzed the current cultural situation in Ukraine

and produced some preliminary guidelines for the cultural policy to be pursued [Hrytsenko

1994].

They considered four major models of cultural policy defined as 'European', 'nativist',

'wild-western', and 'CIS'. In Ukraine, they argued, the economic conditions of mafia-stylecapitalism promoted in fact no cultural policy but a 'wild-west' laissez-fairefree-for-all, while the

political conditions were supportive rather of a 'CIS-style' cultural (under)development (i.e.

neocolonial dominance by the former imperial culture, primarily through mass culture, and the

further marginalization of Ukrainian culture and language). To transform this, they opted for the

'European' model as a sophisticated mixture of free market

laissez-faire

and various forms of state paternalism to protect national culture and support the 'high' arts. The

'nativist' model should not be abandoned, however, because, in their view, it could be adopted

effectively in a postcolonial country in order to revive the formerly discriminated against national

culture and language.Within the framework of the 'European' model, the young reformers suggested the gradual

transformation of the Ministry of Culture into a project-management and grant-distribution

agency. They insisted on the greater transparency and efficiency of state cultural institutions,

and encouraged competitiveness among grant-seekers. At the same time, in order to overcome

the colonial legacy, they provided protection for Ukrainian culture by putting the emphasis on

tax relief rather than on direct subsidies for Ukrainian cultural products and activities. The major

strategic goal outlined by the group of reformers was to promote by all means a modern,

primarily urban and youth-oriented image of Ukrainian culture.

The election of Kuchma and resignation of Dziuba in July 1994 put an end to the courageous,

yet quixotic, attempts to reform one of the many post-Soviet bureaucratic strongholds in Ukrainefrom within. The negative cultural tendencies ('wild-west' and 'CIS') remained dominant in

Ukraine, although the positive ('European' and 'nativist') have not been completely abandoned

either. Moreover, at the end of 2004, after the election Viktor Yushchenko, Ukrainophiles again

filled some key positions in the government and made the first attempts to implement some sort

of the 'nativist'-cum-'European' cultural policy.

Whether the 'nativist' tendencies within this policy would have been properly balanced against

the 'Europeanization" trends, remains however unclear. Yet it is clear that any cultural policy in

Ukraine would be weak, incoherent and inconsistent, and basically ineffective so long as the

state remained dysfunctional [Mace 1999] and the most basic issues concerning the state and

society remained unsettled - "from private property and basic social issues to cultural andgeopolitical orientation" [Garnett 2001, 43].

The dubious viability of dysfunctional states, also dubbed 'quasi-states', has been discussed at

length by the students of postcolonialism. They argue that many colonies that gained

independence some three to four decades ago, have failed to create institutional and cultural

preconditions for viable independence. "Their populations do not enjoy many of the advantages

traditionally associated with independent statehood. Their governments are often deficient in the

political will, institutional authority, and organized power to protect human rights or provide

socioeconomic welfare" [Jackson 1996, 21].

Ukraine, as a relatively new state, largely fits the described patterns of postcolonial

(under)development:

12 / 17


13/17



Its state institutions are still weak, especially those promoting the basic laws and policies

required to establish long-term economic, political and social well-being. Politically, Ukraine is in

fact a highly competitive oligarchy, mitigated by important democratic and pluralistic features

such as elections and a diverse (but not fully free) press. The competing factions in this

oligarchy are primarily concerned about the division of wealth and power, not overall economicor social good. Like other post-Soviet states, this kind of politics is highly personal and corrupt.

The Ukrainian leadership has in fact accomplished some basic and important tasks with skill,

such as state building or relations with Moscow. Yet in heart and soul this leadership is cautious

and concerned about maintaining a status quo that has been personally beneficial to

themselves and their associates. Those who have met regularly with senior officials in the

executive and legislative branch note that the only sustained trend showing steady improvement

is the upgrading of their personal wardrobe and haircuts [Garnett 2001, 47].

Of course, Ukraine's thorough and ubiquitous ambivalence is largely determined by its

notorious regional, cultural, political, economic and other divisions. Many of them, as Sherman

Garnett aptly notes, "reflect not deep conviction but a high degree of uncertainty andmisunderstanding in the population at large." The real problem however is that Ukrainian rulers

have done virtually nothing to overcome this ambivalence. On the contrary, for an entire decade

they have been deliberately contributing, through word and deed, to the total confusion, aptly

called 'social schizophrenia' [Holovakha 1992]. There has been no coherent, consistent cultural

or any other policy in Ukraine that could be interpreted as either a radical de-Sovietization,

de-communization or de-colonization (as in the Baltic or Central and East European states), or

a further Sovietization and colonization-Creolization (as in Belarus). Ukraine has remained stuck

between these two models. Ukrainian self-congratulatory 'stability' has simply proved to be the

reverse side of stagnation. The words 'Ukrainization', 'democratization', 'economic reforms' were

discredited long before any real Ukrainization, democratization, economic reforms began.One may speculate in this context, quite reasonably, about the government's overall impotence

and dysfunctionality, as well as incompetence and basic indifference to all things 'cultural',

'Ukrainian', 'reformative', 'democratic', and so on. The ruling post-Soviet nomenklatura-cum-olig

archy has always been largely a-national and non-ideological, and has pursued, in fact, no

comprehensive policy in any sphere except self-promotion and day-to-day survival. In many

terms, they have behaved like a typical third-world 'comprador' elite described by the students

of postcolonialism.

One should not overlook however the crucial fact that Ukraine's pervasive ambivalence has not

only been inherited but also cherished. It results not only from the general ambivalence of

Ukraine's population and post-Soviet elites, but also from the elites' mundane efforts to preservethis ambivalence for as long as possible.

Paradoxically, post-Soviet elites have been torn between two imperatives. On the one hand,

once they started to privatize different parts of the former empire under 'national' flags, they

needed to take care of 'nation-state building' in their fiefdoms, including developing state

institutions and strengthening distinct cultural identity. On the other hand, they have a vested

interest in the preservation of old Soviet-style institutions and old, heavily Sovietized, cultural

identity. Both institutional and cultural de-Sovietization, if carried out consistently and

coherently, would inevitably lead to an absolutely new political and cultural environment. Such

an environment would mean, in particular, much greater transparency and much fairer

competition in both the economy and politics. Few oligarchs were interested in such changes.Their political wing - representatives of the post-Soviet nomenklatura- tried to sell themselves

13 / 17


14/17



as 'moderates', 'mediators' between the revengeful communists and radical nationalists (or

'islamists' in Central Asia). They desperately needed society to be ambivalent, confused and

alienated.

Therefore they made some concessions to the Ukrainophiles, flirted with Moscow, sent mixed

messages to the Russophones and contributed greatly to the pervasive confusion surroundingUkraine's policy on various issues. Basically, they tried to preserve a Soviet-cum-independent

Ukraine. The 'Soviet' component, however, has always been unacceptable to many Ukrainians

while the 'Ukrainian' component (perceived as ethnically exclusive) is still alien to many

Russians.

Russia behind the scenes

Russia, although behind the scenes, remains the major player in this game. Cultural presence

abroad would appear to be beneficial to any nation, and Russia quite naturally tries to promote

its culture and language everywhere it can. What is rather unusual however in thisself-promotion, is that more often than not it is accompanied by direct political and economic

pressure, and aimed at direct political and economic gains. Many observers have noticed that

the Russian media and politicians become deeply concerned about the plight of

fellow-Russophones in the 'near abroad,' particularly on the eve of parliamentary and

presidential elections, and become more tolerant as soon as they receive the desired political or

economic concessions.

Such a 'pragmatic' policy may suit perfectly the neo-imperial, hegemonic ambitions of Russia's

elites, but it hardly helps to overcome mutual prejudices and establish 'normal', friendly relations

with their neighbors. It is up to Russian citizens to decide which is better for their country and for

themselves: to re-establish empire with dubious power and questionable legacy, or to focusinstead on internal problems and gradually transform Russia into a 'normal' European

nation-state. In any case, it is worth remembering that every, even the most successful and

'civilized' hegemony has highly unpleasant side effects - mistrust, disgust, and hatred of the

subjugated people.

"As long as there are strong Russian forces in Moscow that continue to see Ukraine as ancient

Russian ancestral territory, Ukrainian nationalists will feel the need to keep their distance from

everything Russian" [Kolsto 2000, 189]. Moreover, the common enemy would paradoxically

unite the Ukrainophile intelligentsia and predominantly Russophone oligarchy, forcing them

together "to keep Ukraine outside the embrace of Russia and to give the populace a separate

identity", that is to strengthen the "credibility of the Ukrainian state project" by imbuing it with a"cultural context distinct from that of Russia" [Kolsto 2000, 193].

As long as models and mechanisms of cultural dominance are not properly analyzed, primarily

by Russian scholars, the imperial myths deconstructed, and the cultural mainstream imbued

with political correctness, Russian-Ukrainian (Russian-Belarusian, and so on) cultural tensions

will not be resolved. Although Ukrainians and Belarusians:

are perceived as especially close relatives, good enough to cooperate with (...) they are not

treated as socially or culturally equal [to Russians] and still are not recognized as separate

nations with their own states. Most Russians still look at Ukrainians as Little Russians, that is a

part of the Russian nation, and do not understand why Ukrainians need to promote their ownlanguage, culture, and state. Despite urbanization and industrialization, Ukrainians still are

14 / 17


15/17



considered as underdeveloped rural folk, khokhols...Real 'friendship' between the people would

be possible only after Russians recognize Ukrainians as an equal nation [Kappeler 1997, 142].

So far, Russian culture and, specifically, its ubiquitous, vociferous pop-forms are perceived by

Ukrainophones as not quite alien but definitely hostile. Russia is demonized as a dark 'Oriental'

force while resistance to Russian cultural influences is presented as a profound civilizationalchoice - between 'Europe' and 'Eurasia':

Rivalry between the two languages in Ukraine [a leading Ukrainian writer claims] is, in fact, one

of concrete proofs of a more substantial controversy - between the new opportunities that

Ukraine has gained as a new independent state and imperial inertia. To put it bluntly, the entire

project of 'protection and preservation of the Russian language and culture' in Ukraine and the

'near abroad' is nothing but a project of actual preservation and further functioning of the Empire

in its most essential aspects ...Meanwhile, Ukraine's new opportunities have become embodied

in the opposite project - the radical break with Empire and gradual integration into an essentially

non-Russian, European civilization. The project would seem to be very risky (I wouldn't saycrazy) under current circumstances. But this makes it even more challenging and attractive for

the new Ukrainian elites, particularly for the socially engaged youth. And the Ukrainian language

is not just a sign but also a mean/tool/instrument of national self-liberation, of the great break,

great project. One could say it's a symbol of the other, profoundly different, future

[Andrukhovych 2001, 59].

Conclusion

Russian culture and language are certainly set to retain strong positions in both Ukraine and

other post-Soviet republics. Both the old colonial legacies and new the laissez fairemechanism

s of the free-market tend to support Russian cultural dominance in the 'near abroad', especiallythrough mass culture and the mass media. Even if the Russian language were to be completely

excluded from local educational curricula, it would largely retain its position for a long period to

come because of cultural and economic needs and the presence of significant and socially

advanced Russophone minorities.

On the other hand, all local elites, including those in Belarus [Leshchenko 2004], have their

own reasons for finding the Russian cultural presence in their countries excessive and to seek

measures to restrict this presence. Cultural elites are obviously interested in promoting their

own culture when it is threatened by a stronger rival; political elites, which are more often than

not Russophone themselves and/or better acquainted with Russian culture than with the native,

nonetheless have a practical need to promote nation-building by forging a separate culturalidentity, and even more practical need to limit the influence of the politically subversive Russian

mass-media.

All the post-Soviet republics, however, are too weak both politically and economically and too

dependent on Russia to wage any open war against Russian linguistic and cultural dominance.

Many of them also depend on their own Russophone minorities, and even more so on the fear

of local Soviet-style elites that a policy of too coherent and consistent de-Russification would

ultimately mean the de-Sovietization of their fiefdoms, which would in turn inevitably undermine

their authoritarian dominance. However, noblesse oblige. All of them will certainly tell Moscow

what Moscow loves to hear most: charming words about the great Russian language and

culture, historical ties, friendship and the need for further integration. But all of them will alsopursue their own nationalizing policies gradually pushing Russian away, quietly but irreversibly.

15 / 17


16/17


17/17



imperii, [in:] A. Miller et al. (eds.), Rossiia - Ukraina: istoriia vzaimootnoshenii, Moscow.

Kennedy, L., 1996, In Bed with an Elephant, London.

Khmelko, V., Arel, D., 1996, The Russian Factor and Territorial Polarization in Ukraine, "The

Harriman Review," nos. 1-2.

Kolsto, P., 2000, Political Construction Sites. Nation-building in Russia and Post-Soviet States,Boulder, Colo.

Krawchenko, B., 1985, Social Change and National Consciousness in Twentieth-Century

Ukraine, Basingstoke.

Lashchenko, S., 2001, Etnotsentryzmu ie alternatyva - landspatriotyzm, "Den", January 12.

Leshchenko, N., 2004, A fine instrument: two nation-building strategies in post-Soviet Belarus,

"Nations and Nationalism," no. 3.

Living with the Lingua Franca, 2000, "Transitions Online," August 29; www.tol.cz

Mace, J., 1999, Ukraine as a Dysfunctional State, [in:] T. Kis et al. (eds.), "Towards a New

Ukraine II: Meeting the Next Century," Ottawa.

Mikhutina, I., 1997, Ukrainskii vopros i russkie politicheskie partii nakanune pervoi mirovoivoiny, [in:] Aleksey Miller et al. (eds), Rossiia - Ukraina: istoriia vzaimootnoshenii, Moscow.

Motyl, A., 1987, Will the Non-Russians Rebel? Ithaca, NY.

Motyl, A., 1998, After Empire: competing discourses and inter-state conflict in post-imperial

Eastern Europe, [in:] B. Rubin and J. Snyder (eds.), Post-Soviet political Order. Conflict and

State Building, London and New York.

Pavlyshyn, M., 1993, Shcho pere-tvoryuetsia v Re-kreatsiyakh Iuriia Andrukhovycha?,

"Suchasnist", no. 12.

Ponarin, E., 2000, The Prospects of Assimilation of the Russophone Populations in Estonia

and Ukraine: a Reaction to David Laitin's Research, "Europe-Asia Studies," no. 8.

Slackman, M., 2000, Bitter Lands. Displaced Peoples of the Former Soviet Union, "Newsday",October 29.

Wanner, C., 1998, Burden of Dreams. History and Identity in Post-Soviet Ukraine, University

Park, PA.

Weir, F., 2000, Kiev: Language an Issue in Ukraine, [in:] "Christian Science Monitor", June 28.

Wilson, A., 1997, Ukrainian Nationalism in the 1990s: A Minority Faith, Cambridge, UK.

Wilson, A., 1998, Redefining ethnic and linguistic boundaries in Ukraine: indigenes, settlers and

Russophone Ukrainians, [in:] G. Smith et al. (eds.), Nation-building in the Post-Soviet

Borderlands. The Politics of National Identities, Cambridge, UK.

[From: Korek. J. (edit.) From Sovietology to Postcoloniality. Poland andUkraine in the Postcolonial Perspective, Sdertrn Academic Studies 32,

Stockholm, 2007, ss. 155-176]
http://www.tol.cz/http://www.tol.cz/

in Bed With an Elephant Cultural Wars and Rival Identities in Contemporary Ukraine

Documents

Transcript of in Bed With an Elephant Cultural Wars and Rival Identities in Contemporary Ukraine