halychyna.ca | 2009 | Oleh Chornohuz
http://www.halychyna.ca/Chornohuz-on-Language.htm
The Russian Language in Ukraine
Essay by Oleh Chornohuz
For me, the Russian language in Ukraine is the death of Ukraine.
For me, the Russian language is the unstoppable flow of Ukrainian blood
spilled by our “elder Russian brother” who, according to his birth
records, is by far the younger brother. With this blood we, Ukrainians,
have written our history. And when we read our bloody history, we have
to take sedatives and ponder the question: why was (is) this
relationship called the “friendship of fraternal nations?”
For me, the Russian language is robbery committed in broad daylight
before the eyes of the entire civilized world: the co-opting of the
name of a neighbouring country (Kyivan Rus’-Ukraine) and its inclusion
in all the maps of the world by supplanting the term “the state of
Muscovy” with the words “Russian Empire” (1713).
For me, the Russian language is the condemnation and anathema
proclaimed by the Synod of the Russian Orthodox Church against the “new
Kyivan books” of the Ukrainian theologians Petro Mohyla, Kyrylo
Stavrovetsky-Tranquillon, and Simeon Polotsky (1690).
For me, the Russian language is the deliberate burning of all the
original Ukrainian historical annals, the literary heritage of Kyivan
Rus’, the treaties of hetmans Bohdan Khmelnytsky and Ivan Vyhovsky—our
historical memory. .
For me, the Russian language is the ukase issued by Tsar Peter I,
prohibiting the printing of books in the Ukrainian language and the
excision of passages from liturgical books.
For me, the Russian language is the crucifixion of Ukraine. It is the
millions of bones of Ukrainian Cossack prisoners of war, which are
literally immured in the foundations of St. Petersburg, the capital of
Muscovy (1703); the all-out massacre of the Ukrainian population of
Baturyn, the capital of the Ukrainian Cossack Hetmanate, after the
Battle of Poltava (1709); the devastation of Zaporozhian Sich Cossack
outposts; and the use of Ukrainian forced laborers on the White Sea
Canal and other artificial channels.
For me, the Russian language is the command issued by Tsar Peter III to
rewrite, from Ukrainian into Russian, all government decrees and
regulations.
For me, the Russian language is the decree issued by Tsarina Catherine
II, forbidding instruction in the Ukrainian language at the Kyiv-Mohyla
Academy (1753).
For me, the Russian language is the closure of Ukrainian schools
attached to regimental Cossack offices and the uninterrupted spilling
of Ukrainian blood by the bayonets of their Muscovite “brothers”
(1775).
For me, the Russian language is “the conquest of Siberia and the
subjugation of the Crimea” (a line from Russian playwright Alexander
Griboedov’s play Woe from Wit) as promoted by Russia’s poets and
painters.
For me, the Russian language is the sentiment expressed by Russia’s
pre-eminent poet Alexander Pushkin: “Humble thyself, O Caucasus, for
Yermolov is coming.”
For me, the Russian language is the deportation of the larger and
smaller nations of the Muscovite Empire to “unexplored Siberia.”
For me, the Russian language is the intensification of the brutal
persecution of the Ukrainian language and culture in the 19th century,
as exemplified by the prohibition of the finest works of Ukrainian
writers.
For me, the Russian language is the closure of Ukrainian Sunday schools
for adults in the Russian Empire (1862).
For me, the Russian language is the circular issued by Petr Valuev,
tsarist Russia’s Chief of Gendarmes, who banned the printing of
spiritual and popular-educational books in the Ukrainian language
because “there never was, is not, and never will be a separate
Ukrainian language” (1863-1876).
For me, the Russian language is the declaration of Dmitry Tolstoy,
tsarist Russia’s education minister: “The end goal of the education of
all foreigners should be their complete Russification” (1870).
For me, the Russian language is the Ems Ukase of Tsar Alexander II,
which banned Ukrainian performances, the singing of Ukrainian songs,
and even the printing of music notes accompanied by Ukrainian-language
texts (1876).
For me, the Russian language is the prohibition against the translation
of Russian literature into Ukrainian and the ban on publishing
Ukrainian children’s books (1892).
For me, the Russian language is the closure by tsarist Russia’s Prime
Minister Petr Stolypin of all Ukrainian cultural centers, associations,
and printing houses; the prohibition against giving lectures in
Ukrainian and organizing any kind of non-Russian clubs.
For me, the Russian language is the resolution passed by the 7th Noble
Assembly in Moscow concerning the exclusivity of Russian-language
education and the inadmissibility of using other languages of
instruction in schools throughout the Russian Empire (1911).
For me, the Russian language is the interdiction against commemorating
the 100th anniversary of Ukraine’s national poet Taras Shevchenko and
the liquidation of the Ukrainian press (1914).
For me, the Russian language is the Russification campaign in western
Ukraine, the prohibition on Ukrainian letters, education, and the
church (1914-1916).
For me, the Russian language is the occupation of Ukraine by the
Russian Bolsheviks and their red terror, organized by Lenin, Trotsky,
and Stalin.
For me, the Russian language is the summary executions of Ukrainian
civilians in Kyiv by the cutthroats led by Soviet commander Mikhail
Muravev simply because they spoke Ukrainian and some were wearing
Ukrainian embroidered shirts (1918).
For me, the Russian language is the phenomenon of cannibalism during
the first and second of the three famines that took place in Ukraine in
the twentieth century (1921, 1932-33).
For me, the Russian language is the genocide, known as the Holodomor,
which killed at least 10 million Ukrainian peasants, the finest farmers
in the world, as Stalin informed Churchill during a conversation by
indicating all the fingers of his two hands (1933).
For me, the Russian language is a crime without punishment. It is the
Stalin-ordered deaths of tens of thousands of my innocent countrymen in
the first days of the Second World War in the park named after the
Soviet Russian writer Maxim Gorky in my native city of Vinnytsia.
For me, the Russian language is the poorly clothed, fed, and armed
Ukrainian troops who were used as cannon fodder during World War Two to
fend off the Nazi occupiers, who were armed to the teeth; ditto for the
Soviet war in Afghanistan.
For me, the Russian language is the millions of Ukrainian refugees who
fled to the West before the second Soviet invasion of western Ukraine
(1943).
For me, the Russian language is the wholesale deportation of the
Chechens and Ingushetians from their native lands during the Second
World War.
For me, the Russian language is the complete assimilation of the
peoples of the Muscovite Empire, be it tsarist, communist, or
post-Soviet.
For me, the Russian language is the pledge “to kill, slaughter, hang,
drown, and exile those ‘khokhols,’” the derogatory term with which our
“fraternal” neighbors, the Russians, refer to Ukrainians.
For me, the Russian language is the political assassinations of the
finest sons of my nation not only in Ukraine but outside its borders.
For me, the Russian language is Siberia, Kolyma, the Solovetsky
Islands, and the hundreds of other death camps in the Soviet GULAG,
where the most brilliant Ukrainian intellectuals of the twentieth
century—poets, including blind ones, writers, scholars, academicians,
scientists, and clergymen, bishops, and archbishops) met their untimely
end.
For me, the Russian language is 21 January 1978, the day that Oleksa
Hirnyk from the city of Kalush went to the gravesite of Ukraine’s
national poet Taras Shevchenko in Kaniv, where he scattered a thousand
handwritten leaflets protesting the Russification of the Ukrainian
people. Then he doused himself with gas and raised a lighter to his
chest. Hirnyk’s death marked the year of the building of the “single
Soviet people.”
For me, the Russian language is Vladimir Putin’s notorious pledge to
eradicate the Chechens’ age-old struggle for independence: “We’ll get
them anywhere—if we find them sitting in the outhouse, we will rub them
out there” (1999).
For me, the Russian language is the executions of Ukrainian patriots
who stood up for their right to speak and write in Ukrainian.
For me, the Russian language is the language of a fascist, a racist, a
chauvinist—and my bitterest enemy.
For me, the Russian language is the continuing threats made by the
Putins, Zhirinovskys, Zatulins, and Luzhkovs of Russia to launch
pre-emptive nuclear strikes at Ukraine.
For me, the Russian language is the continuing cruelty and disrespect
shown to my nation by the installation or maintenance of monuments
honoring the tsarist and Soviet oppressors of Ukraine (2008).
For me, the Russian language is the language of an oppressor, a
conqueror, and an occupier.
Today, the Russian language in independent Ukraine, if Ukraine is
indeed independent, is the death of my language and Ukraine’s final
enslavement.