The Course of the Soviet ‘National Question’ and its Impact Upon Modern Ukraine
69 years of Soviet communism in its myriad iterations comprehensively failed to address the problem of ‘Great Russian Chauvinism’, to appropriate a phrase first coined by Lenin. In view of the conflict in Ukraine, this article seeks to assess the contribution of this failure to contemporary Russo-Ukrainian relations.
Guided by Marxist-Leninist suspicion of ‘nation’ as a viable framework in the wake of the proletarian revolution, yet limited by circumstance, the Bolshevik inheritors of the Tsarist empire reluctantly embarked upon a programme of transitional ‘federalism’ after 1917, with the long-term goal being a borderless, supra-national unitary Republic. This lofty goal was scuppered by simple mathematics, Russia occupied 3/5 of the landmass of the country, atop 4/5 of the population: Russians dominated the party machinery, power was concentrated in Moscow, rendering the Leninist supra-national project dead in the water. Korenizastsya, albeit well intentioned in its token gestures and symbolism, did little more than whet the appetite of national elites for further material devolution. By the end of the decade, the zeitgeist of the Nationalities Policy had undergone a wholesale reversal, with the agenda shifting away from combatting the aforementioned ‘Great Russian Chauvinism’ toward the address of ‘local nationalism’. The days of appeals to transnational class loyalties had passed with the ushering in of a new, avowedly nationalist ‘Soviet Patriotism’.
Given the population breakdowns of the country, it was inevitable that this notion would become intertwined with Russianness. In Ukraine, this new line was enacted in the some of the worst of Stalin’s genocidal tendencies – 30,000 were executed in the wake of the trial of the Union for the Freedom of the Ukraine, of 3.5 million VKPB card-carriers, 32% were purged. These statistics come without mention of the Holodomor.
The Khrushchev Thaw saw the return of some concessions under the fascinating banner of a ‘return to Leninism’, most notably, in hindsight, the transfer of the Crimea to Ukraine. The party rehabilitated some prominent cadres who had been burned from Stalin-era textbooks, such as Sukhomlyn, Veger, Maiorov, Liubchenko and Medvedev. These concessions, albeit minor, were enough to inspire the significant cultural renaissance of the 1960’s – the roots of today’s independent Ukrainian cultural trajectory.
According to Bociurkiw, this resistance took three forms: clandestine, subversive conspiracy groups, open intellectual dissent, and in an official capacity – as part of the Ukrainian Party. In respect of the former, the Ukrainian Peasants and Workers Union, as well as the Ukrainian National Committee published subversive pamphlets, both of which were discovered by the KGB, leading to their membership being tried in camera and executed by 1970. Referring to the second, these intellectuals used samizdatto make a defence of Ukrainian language and culture. The latter grouping sought to advocate for ‘economic localism’ and republican interests within the parameters of the system. All three have discernible legacies in the modern Ukrainian national conscience.
Weathering the storm of the 1970’s clampdown and blossoming through the openness of the 1980’s, Ukraine emerged into the post-Soviet world with a thriving and vibrant cultural landscape, built upon the foundations of resistance embodied by the shistdesiatnyky and simdesiatnyky generations – avowedly anti-Russian and nationalist in nature.
In a twist of irony, it was policy that sought to Russify the Ukraine that was so instrumental in the laying of the foundations of the current thorn in the side of Russian expansionism. Stalinist and later Brezhnevite repression created fertile conditions for subversion, a spirit maintained today and a source of inspiration for contemporary Ukrainians.
Image courtesy of Alexander Makarov via Wikimedia, ©2011, some rights reserved.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the wider St. Andrews Foreign Affairs Review team