The roots of distortion

The Day’s journalists were intrigued by the recent visit of the Swedish royal couple and the launch of the exhibit “Ukraine-Sweden: At the Crossroads of History” at the National Museum of Ukrainian History. There was a special regal touch to both of these events. The items on display at the museum are an eye-opener even for many historians, let alone ordinary visitors.

It is said that Ukraine’s multivectoral foreign policy has damaged our country, which long ago should have determined its choice and focused on integrating into Europe. In reality, our internal contradictions are making us drift farther away.

Three hundred years ago Ukraine made agreements with Sweden on equal terms and enjoyed respect on the Old Continent. European aristocrats were honored to have their offspring marry their Ukrainian counterparts. Ukrainians thought of themselves as a European nation and developed their international contacts accordingly. When did this distancing from other Europeans begin, and when did this amorphous concept of multivectorality emerge?

Relations between Ukraine and Sweden have a long history, dating back to Prince Yaroslav the Wise. During the important period of building the Ukrainian nation in the 17th and 18th centuries, the important landmarks were the signing of the Korsun Treaty (an alliance with Sweden) in 1657 and the military and political treaty of Velyka Budyshcha in 1709. The Battle of Poltava, which took place 300 years ago, deprived Ukraine of statehood for a very long period, but not of its state-building aspirations.

The exhibit “Ukraine-Sweden: At the Crossroads of History” is thus designed to take Ukrainians back three centuries, to the Cossack state with all its required attributes, including Europe’s first constitution drawn up by Pylyp Orlyk in 1710 and what is known today as Euro-Atlantic aspirations.

The exhibit at the National Museum of Ukrainian History continues until April. After that, the 100 items that are on loan from 19 Ukrainian and Swedish institutions as well as from private collections will travel to eastern Ukraine. The specially produced catalogues and brochures are perhaps the first reminder of this period of Ukrainian history.

To this day we have not managed to pay fitting tribute to the memory of Hetman Ivan Mazepa, the most prominent figure of this period of our history. To date, the only monument to him in Ukraine exists in Mazepyntsi, a village in Kyiv oblast, which was erected at the initiative and with the financial support of a Ukrainian American named Marian Kots. Another monument — this one to Ivan Mazepa and Charles XII of Sweden — is in Chernihiv oblast. It commemorates the first meeting between the Ukrainian leader and the Swedish King.

The other monuments to Mazepa are located abroad: in Galati (Romania), which was commissioned by the Ministry of Culture and Art, and the Austrian town of Perchtoldsdorf, some 16 km southwest of Vienna. Another monument is planned in Bendery, Transdnistria, but the project is being actively opposed by the Russians.

The idea of establishing a memorial site to Mazepa in conjunction with the upcoming 300th anniversary of the Battle of Poltava is also sparking controversy. Returning home is turning out to be difficult for this true Ukrainian, who was anathemized by the Russian Church and forgotten by his people for so long.

Why did all this come to pass? How can historical figures resume their proper places in Ukrainian history? Below is The Day’-s interview with the historian Yurii SAVCHUK, who is a heraldic expert, senior research associate at the Institute of Ukrainian History at the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, and the initiator and curator of the exhibit “Ukraine-Sweden: At the Crossroads of History.”

Larysa Ivshyna: I think there is at least one patriotic political force in Ukraine: it is called the “Party of Historians.”

Yuri Savchuk: I would add “and Museum Workers.” I would like to express my gratitude to all my fellow museum employees in Ukraine, who helped organize this exhibit. Special thanks go to the National Museum of Ukrainian History and its curator, S. M. Chaikovsky.

L.I.: When I learned about the launch of this exhibit, I couldn’t have imagined I would be so impressed. It really expands the context and one’s perception of many events. We usually discuss what happened to Ukraine after the Battle of Poltava, but we don’t see what Ukraine was like before this event, its hetmans, its people, their level; we had never seen their personal correspondence. This exhibit should be seen by schoolchildren, students, and above all by those who are aware of themselves as citizens or want to achieve this awareness. Dr. Savchuk, what is your message as the creator of this exhibit?

Yu.S.: Virgil said that things have souls. We consciously strove to include original items. Except for Pylyp Orlyk’s Constitution and several other items, all the items are originals. Without a doubt, they are carriers of historical memory and special energy. This energy is extremely potent and important to our history and our people. This was a state-building period, when a new, young, and strong Cossack nation was emerging in Central and Eastern Europe, determined to build its own state and assert itself. This trend is especially conspicuous at the exhibit. In general, I can see lots of parallels with the present. In terms of many events and actions, it is a reflection of current realities. When I was shaping this exposition, I sought to trace the roots of the problems and challenges facing our country today. Also, it seems to me that the events of three hundred years ago can be discussed more objectively than today’s events. A historian must live in the historical period s/he is studying and relive its events.

L.I.: So you’re living in the 17th century?

Yu.S.: To an extent, yes, and this is helped by the emotions generated after visiting historic sites. When I was visiting Sweden, I understood why Dmytro Yavornytsky walked barefoot all over the Zaporozhian lands; why other historians, before writing about one era or another, wanted to visit the steppes and see all the historical sites. I wanted to portray Sweden not only as so many historic sites but also the way I see it, as a man who has seen these Ukrainian antiquities in Sweden, picked these items up, and examined them.

L.I.: How many items are on display?

Yu.S.: The catalog, which was published prior to the launch of the exhibit, lists 124 items, but there are exactly 100 items, including 47 that were sent from Sweden.

L.I.: This is why it is so important for people to explore this exhibit because not all of the items will remain in Ukraine. Is the National Museum of Ukrainian History collaborating with the Ministry of Education, which is in a position to disseminate information about this project through its various channels?

Yu.S.: I recently conducted a guided tour for a group of history teachers from the Desniansky district of Kyiv. I also have some teaching experience, and I believe this is very important for teachers. I’m glad to say the excursion led the teachers to ask many questions, and everyone showed keen interest in the subject.

L.I.: What kind of reaction have you gotten from the general public?

Yu.S.: The number of visitors to the museum has increased several times over; the museum has come alive and it is like a beehive now. People come, listen to the guides, and join their tours. We need to ensure that the greatest number of people acquaint themselves with this exhibit; the museum must adopt measures to this end — I mean marketing and advertising — and this will raise its performance to a new level.

L.I.: First of all, it is necessary to display actualized history. There is a demand for this because there are still questions that Ukraine has not resolved for itself. When you were working on these documents, what circumstances did you clarify that were previously unknown?

Yu.S.: The most thrilling ones relate to the circumstances surrounding the drafting of the Treaty of Korsun. In the mid-17th century, the relations between Sweden and Ukraine received a fresh impetus, as evidenced by the flurry of diplomatic correspondence: Bohdan Khmelnytsky sent nine letters to the kings of Sweden, where they are stored. The earliest letter is addressed to Christina and Carl X Gustaf of Sweden. The Swedish archives also contain letters signed by Hetman Ivan Vyhovsky.

Here the most interesting question is, what kind of diplomacy, foreign political course, and relations did the young Cossack state adopt? Soviet historiography always described the Treaty of Pereiaslav as an act of unity of the Slavic peoples. It was revered and remained inviolable. In contrast, a closer look at Khmel­nytsky and Vyhovsky’s con­tacts with Sweden reveals a clear picture of a truly independent foreign policy without any restrictions. There was unrestricted correspondence and debate on the road to progress on the part of both countries.

The Cossacks’ intentions in their contacts with the Swedes are obvious: they were looking for ways to legitimize their state and assert it in the international arena. They affirmed their own, separate foreign political course, presented Ukraine as an independent state before the European monarchs, and maneuvered among these monarchs. As for the goal of this maneuvering, the mentality of that period must be taken into account. Becoming a country and being recognized by a neighboring country were very difficult tasks, as difficult as they are today.

In his letters dated 1657 Hetman Khmelnytsky raises the question of an alliance with the kings of Sweden. Swedish envoys were visiting Chyhyryn non-stop. This stepped-up diplomatic activity is explained by the fact that both the Swedes and the Cossacks had a common enemy, Poland. If you recall Henryk Sienkiewicz’s novel The Deluge, the “deluge” refers to Poland’s swift conquest by Sweden, when the two capital cities, Cracow and Warsaw, were captured in two weeks. Sweden was then in a constant state of war with Poland.

Olha Reshetylova: You said the goal was recognition of the Cossack state. To what extent did our contacts with Sweden help?

Masha Tomak: ...Especially considering that the Treaty of Korsun was never ratified by the Swedes, right?

Yu.S.: I would draw a parallel with the Treaty of Pereiaslav, since we are more familiar with this instrument. How did it come about? The envoys of the Muscovite tsar traveled to Pereiaslav, and their mission was vested with full plenipotentiary powers. The same situation developed in Ukrainian-Swedish relations. By the way, one of the items on display is a directive containing more than 13 clauses. It bears the royal seal and is bound with a yellow-and-blue string, the national colors of Sweden. In other words, we have the document attesting to the envoys’ plenipotentiary powers.

What happened in Korsun? On Oct. 5 Hetman Ivan Vyhovsky signed a universal (decree) authorizing three Cossack officers, Yurii Nemyrych, Ivan Kovalevsky, and Ivan Fedorovych, to conduct negotiations. The original document is also part of the current exhibit. It is in Latin, not Ukrainian. This is proof that this document was meant to be used outside Ukraine. There is also Vyhovsky’s letter to the Swedish king, in which the hetman declares that, despite the enduring, friendly relations between the two states, the question of an alliance can only be decided with the participation of the entire Cossack community. Then the Council of Korsun took place, like the Council of Pereiaslav. We know a lot about the Pereiaslav one from textbooks, scholarly research, numerous paintings, etc. Now if I asked you what you know about the Council of Korsun, I don’t think you could give me an answer.

Vyhovsky, perhaps as a participant or the architect of the Treaty of Pereiaslav wanted to raise the Treaty of Korsun to that same level.

The articles of the Treaty of Pereiaslav were also not ratified in Ukraine. After this document was signed, it was brought to Moscow and no one has seen it to this day. The Council of Korsun adopted its treaty in a manner that was by no means inferior to that of Pereiaslav. The treaty was signed on Oct. 6, there was a pause the next day (understandably, the participants needed time to celebrate the occasion), but on Oct. 8 Vyhovsky wrote a letter to the king — we have the original on display — congratulating him on the signing of the treaty.

This document also reads that the Cossacks would not march against the Russian tsar. Only three years had elapsed since the signing of the Treaty of Pereiaslav, and it was still fresh in people’s minds. In other words, this is precisely when Ukraine became ideologically bound to Russia. Further on, the letter reads that Ukraine is a free and independent state. This is perhaps the most valuable declaration. Vyhovsky continues to describe Cossack claims to territories that are not part of Ukraine’s current territory (for example, Berestia, which is now part of the Polesie region of Belarus). This document is proof of a strong burst of energy in the Cossack ranks, of their justified state-building ambitions and claims.

M.T.: The numerous military trophies that found their way to Sweden ended up there as a result of the “deluge” that you mentioned earlier. Among them are the flags that you discovered. What led you to this discovery?

Yu.S.: The history of the attribution of these standards has a direct bearing on Janusz Radziwill. He was a very powerful figure, who left a vivid mark on history (remember the Radziwill Chronicle). Radziwill succeeded in capturing Kyiv several centuries after the Tatar-Mongol invasion. He was a highly educated individual and a collector. Rad­ziwill had an artist in his court by the name of Abraham van Westerveld, who made sketches of Kyiv in 1651 that are well known to historians and art historians.

Apparently, he made the sketches and brief descriptions of the standards captured by Radziwill. These sketches, which were first made public by the noted historian Ivan Krypiakevych in 1963, were the key to attribution of the Stockholm monuments. Apart from the fact that the flags and their form were sketched in detail, each had a caption reading “Captured in Kyiv,” “Captured at Ripky” — this was the military campaign of 1651.

We know it as the Battle of Berestechko. The Lithuanian army, commanded by Radziwill, launched an offensive from the north, and taking advantage of the fact that regiments had been sent to Berestechko and the absence of the regular army, the Lithuanians had no problems entering Ukraine and capturing these standards en route.

Our display boasts a silver medal made by the German goldsmith and medal maker Sebastian Dadler (one of five known in Europe). It depicts the capture of Kyiv. How did this happen? There were actually no hostilities. Metropolitan Kosiv and the Kyiv authorities launched negotiations with Radziwill. In order to protect the city from looting, fires, and violence, they agreed to pay requisitions and surrender the key to the city to the new ruler. The ambitious Radziwill was perfectly satisfied. Westerveld’s picture shows this historic scene, which also portrays the lowered standards being handed over to Radziwill as trophies. Later he presented them to King Jan Casimir of Poland. It was standard practice for military commanders to present war trophies to their sovereign as a sign of respect.

The Swedish army was made up of mercenaries. They were paid to fight, and they received premiums for captured trophies, so they simply picked up whatever standards they found on the battlefield and in palaces, cathedrals, and so on. That was how these flags were brought to Stockholm.

L.I.: It is important to arrive at the correct conclusions, proceeding from these facts. When you spoke at the opening of the exhibit, you said that 40 years after these events Hryhir Orlyk wrote a letter from his place of exile to the Swedish king, thanking him for granting an allowance to his mother and sister. How was this knightly culture characteristic of the Cossack starshyna (officers)?

Yu.S.: The emotionally positive aspect of this exhibit is not even the fact that we’re dealing with historical facts. It is extremely pleasant to discuss the chivalrous behavior of the Ukrainian leaders in those days. Take Pylyp Orlyk, for example. Not coincidentally we entitled the section dedicated to his activities “The First Political Immigration: Hetman Pylyp Orlyk, a Life Dedicated to His Native Land.” This last letter of the hetman is his confession, in which he sums up every stage of his life. You simply cannot remain indifferent when you read it; it is permeated with dignity and knightly spirit.

L.I.: Don’t you think that there is a distorted image of Ukrainians as the people of all those black councils? A politician who probably doesn’t know his history very well, once used this image in the positive sense. In reality, both the culture of the expression of the will of the masses and an elevated aristocratic culture were germane to Ukrainians in that period. Unfortunately, we know little about it. Perhaps the time has come to publish a large print run of documents that attest to our aristocratic nature, for example, this letter by Hryhir Orlyk or Gogol’s little-known work Mazepa’s Reflections? These are precious things that are known only to experts.

Yu.S.: Of course. Besides Hryhir Orlyk, I should also mention Pylyp Orlyk and his daughter Anastasia, who married Johan Stenflycht. The Stenflychts are the most celebrated aristocratic family in Sweden. An ordinary man could never have gained entry to the highest circles of this country. The godfathers of Pylyp Orlyk’s newborn child were Charles XII and the king of Poland Stanislaw I Leszczynski. This correspondence and these relationships are proof of the close contacts between Ukrainian and European aristocratic families. Gogol’s work, which you just mentioned, appeared in print only once, in a complete collection of his works that was published more than 50 years ago. It was in Mazepa’s Reflections that Gogol first voiced the idea of an independent Ukraine. Many people will now see this author in an entirely new light — as both a brilliant writer and a thinker who sought answers to the questions of Ukraine’s national, state-building evolution.

L.I.: This is precisely the opposite of Gogol’s image, the one that has always been cultivated, that of someone who forgot all about the land of his forefathers. Tell me: after studying this period of our history, are there any caveats that you could offer our current politicians?

Yu.S.: I would suggest a considered approach rather than banal knowledge of history; insight into it. I think this would be very instrumental for the modern elite. History does not simply repeat itself; there are cycles of such repetitions. Today, after hundreds of years, Ukraine is once again attempting to assert its statehood; once again we see the same players in this power game, and almost the same circumstances.

L.I.: Except that we can see considerably fewer charismatic personalities. The Ukrainian elite has been washed out for a number of centuries.

Yu.S.: Our politicians must learn to see the whole complicated geopolitical chessboard. They must not be unambiguous. They must not simply replace the red sauce with a blue-and-yellow one.

L.I.: There have been quite a few such vital moments in Ukrainian history, yet the period of the Cossack state, the Great Nort­hern War, and the alliance with Sweden, psychologically returns us to our normal state. But then there were all those mutations and distortions. Now we have to get back to what was once considered normal.

Yu.S.: That’s a splendid idea. We have drifted away from shore. We have to get back and become our normal selves, with a high level of political culture, commitments that cannot be broken in an instant; a well-educated political leadership, with national interests prevailing over personal wealth and ambition.

Ivan Kapsamun: Is there any difference in the public’s attitudes to the Battle of Poltava (1709) in Ukraine and Sweden these days?

Yu.S.: For the Swedes, the Battle of Poltava is a phrase that gives rise to magical feelings; it has a magical meaning. The fact is that after this battle Sweden ceased to exist as an empire; an empire that had turned the Baltic Sea into its inland sea, and whose interests reached far beyond its borders. Sweden’s current strategic interests are much more modest; they extend to the Baltic countries, Poland, Belarus, and Ukraine. Today, the Swedish nation, numbering eight million, has all the lists of its aristocracy, officers, and men who ever served in the Swedish army. The Swedes know the names of all those who fought in the Battle of Poltava. I was very impressed when I was observing the Swedish guests at the first exhibit, which was dedicated to Bohdan Khmelnytsky, being invited to visit any place in Ukraine. All of them said they wanted to see the site of the Battle of Poltava. Without a doubt, the Swedes are very interested in this event, which took place in 1709, although they did try to shift the accents in the portrayal of the Poltava events from the state ideological scope to micro-history.

L.I.: The Swedes have resolved their main political problems. Today, no one wants to irritate Russia by raising the issue of the Battle of Poltava, because it is really a painful one for them. Russia has been meticulously following all issues that pertain to its history. Europe is aware of this and, knowing this, is very cautiously reacting to Russia’s harsh responses. We saw this from the Europeans’ reactions to the recent events in the Caucasus.

Yu.S.: I am pleased to inform you that the Swedish officials who visited our exhibit said they want to display it in Sweden.

B> L.I.: This is a great achievement on the part of our historians. They did a great deal of painstaking work to create the exhibit.

O.R.: Do you think that joint Ukrainian-Polish and Ukrainian-Russian exhibits could be instrumental in resolving painful issues, considering that we have many more of them with our neighbors next door, compared to Sweden?

Yu.S.: I’m not sure that such projects will be possible in the nearest future. But let me give you this example. Our Polish colleagues recently visited Ukraine and brought with them Ivan Mazepa’s restored standard. They suggested that we stage a joint exhibit in Brussels because Po­land will hold the presidency of the European Union in 2011. Needless to say, such projects help us meet each other halfway in resolving the issue you’ve just raised.

L.I.: It is very important for our young people to have a better concept of history. Our newspaper has long supported the idea that potential parliamentarians should write a history exam. Presidential candidates should take this exam live on air and at National University of Ostroh Academy, the oldest institution of higher learning in Ukraine and all of Europe.

Yu.S.: You’re absolutely right. In fact, I believe that every Ukrainian citizen should define his/her attitude to the Battle of Poltava, regardless of the attitude of Moscow, Warsaw, Stock­holm, or Istanbul. This is especially true of our political leadership. I would like to point out that our exhibit will be seen in Dnipropetrovsk. It is very important to show these rare items to people who live in central and eastern Uk­raine. This exhibit is a cultural litmus test for both Swedes and Ukrainians. It opens up our countries to each other much more widely.

M.T.: Dr. Savchuk, you said in one of your interviews that Ukraine does not have a single state seal, even though the issue of Ukrainian symbols was very acute at the outset of our national independence. Is there any possibility that historic relics that are stored abroad will be returned to Ukraine? If so, how will this affect Ukrainian historical memory?

Yu.S.: I am convinced that the return of Ukraine’s historic artifacts should not be taken literally but with the understanding that they will be introduced into scholarly, cultural, and spiritual circulation within Ukrainian society. Of all of Ukraine’s neighbors, Russia constitutes the biggest problem in terms of returning cultural valuables. For example, when I was working on the book Kleinody viiska zaporozkoho nyzovoho (The Insignia of the Zaporozhian Host), I managed to sign agreements with leading Russian and Ukrainian museums that allowed me to publish these insignia. The only exception was the Hermitage. For the past several years it has refused permission to publish reproductions of Cossack insignia.

The Cossack insignia that found their way to the Kuban region have an interesting history. In the 1920s they were shipped to Serbia. After the Second World War they were brought to the United States via Germany and recently, to the Russian Federation. Regrettably, a great many Ukrainian historical items are in foreign museums; withdrawing them from the museum collections of foreign states is impossible. Nevertheless, leafing through the book on Cossack insignia, you become convinced that Ukraine is a powerful country.

It should be remembered that the Ukrainian items in this exhibit cost millions of dollars, which also complicates the question of returning them to Ukraine. How­ever, I would like to point out that the Cossack flags in the Kuban region, where 70 percent of the residents are ethnic Ukrainians, are extremely important. Ukrainian cultural items play a role in the spiritual uplifting of Ukrainians who live in Russia. Another important thing is to prevent Ukrainian cultural collections — for example, in Canada — from being sold to Columbia University or the University of Tokyo, and to help them find their way back to Ukrainian museums.

For example, a foreign museum has the flag of the Black Sea Fleet, which was unfurled by the ships of the Ukrainian Fleet in 1918 in the Crimea. Returning this flag to Ukraine is very important because this would mean our physical and spiritual return to the Crimea. However, despite certain problems, many Ukrainian artifacts are being returned to Ukraine, including the personal effects of Taras Shevchenko, Lesia Ukrainka, and Symon Petliura, as well as archaeological finds that have been identified as being of Ukrainian origin and other rare objects that are part of Ukraine’s cultural heritage.