Whatever might have been the effect of the new organization on Russian

literature, which had been handicapped by the domination of the RAPP,

its effect on Ukrainian literature could not fail to be disastrous.

In effect, it standardized all literature on the Russian model and

it indicated that henceforth literature and literary men were to be

treated as organs of the Communist Party and of the Moscow regime. It

was the definite answer to the efforts of the Ukrainian writers of

nearly all the conflicting schools to adapt literature to their own

purposes and ideals. It took away from the writers all inspiration and

desire to use their talents for their own artistic enjoyment and it

rendered it possible for the central government to abolish that sense

of republican patriotism which had been so marked during the preceding

period in all the non-Russian republics.

In place of the ideas of the old Ukrainian life which was being brought

to an end by the compulsory collectivization and the establishment

of the collective farms, in place of the old visions of the unity of

the Ukrainian people and those ideals of a new national life that had

dominated Ukrainian literature from the time of Shevchenko, in place

of the efforts to establish in Ukrainian literature all those branches

of art and culture which were stirring in Western Europe, there was

now given to the writers, young and old, the command to celebrate and

to glorify the actual process of socialist construction in Ukraine, as

elsewhere. By 1934 Kulyk, as the organizer of the Ukrainian section,

could write of the definite end of the old bourgeois nationalist

sentiment as preached by Yefremiv and of the efforts of Khvylovy to

reorient the psychology of Ukrainian literature on that of Europe.

In his article on the modern Ukrainian literature in a volume on the

_Literature of the Peoples of the USSR_ published in 1934, he could

pass over in silence, for obvious reasons, all of the great names which

had appeared during the preceding ten years and shower his praise upon

the young proletarian writers who were willing to follow blindly and,

to the best of their ability, the new course.

There were, of course, some of the older and even of the more prominent

men who were willing to compromise with the new regime. Among them

the outstanding figures were Tychyna and Rylsky. Both of them, after

consideration and treatment by the authorities, tried to bend their

works to the new ideas but there were many who were unwilling or unable

to be untrue to their artistic faith and for them there was not even

the choice of silence or writing. They were compelled to conform or

vanish and it was not long after the organization of the All-Union

Society of Soviet Writers when this was made abundantly clear.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Debacle

The Ukrainian Communists, as Skrypnyk and Khvylovy, could not fail to

be horrified at the spreading famine which broke out in the autumn of

1932 and raged throughout the winter. Whatever they might have thought

in the beginning of the compulsory collectivization, they were aghast

at its results. They could not fail to recognize that it meant the end

of the old Ukrainian life which they had tried to remodel in accordance

with their own ideals and that it meant a widening breach with the

outside world. They could not fail to see that it meant the ending of

that world Communism in which they had tried to believe and in which

they saw the hope of humanity and justice.

They could hardly fail to recognize almost immediately how they had

played into the hands of the enemies of Ukraine by their attacks on the

older scholars, for they were now to learn that they had unwittingly

forged the tool that was to be used against them.

Postyshev arrived in Ukraine in January, 1933, to superintend and make

more rigid the rules for the collection of grain. He brought with him

his own staff, his own detachments of the NKVD, and while he nominally

had the post of second secretary, he had the instructions from Stalin

that made him the complete dictator. He soon showed what that meant.

Among his earliest acts was the removal of Chubar from his post as

head of the Soviet of People’s Commissars and he replaced him with the

more pliable P. Lyubchenko, a former Borotbist. Skrypnyk was forthwith

demoted from Commissar of Education to Chairman of the Ukrainian State

Planning Commission, a position of no special importance, once the

conduct of all Ukrainian life was to be administered in accordance

with a plan drawn up in Moscow. He was replaced by Volodymyr Zatonsky,

who had been one of the foremost advocates of russification.

The axe was used still more widely on the entire Communist Party in

Ukraine. Within ten months, Postyshev removed two hundred thirty-seven

secretaries of regional party committees, two hundred seventy-nine

heads of regional executive committees, and one hundred and fifty-eight

heads of regional control commissions. Nearly one thousand prominent

Communists were removed, not to speak of lesser members. Since there

were little more than 125,000 Communists in Ukraine, it is easy to see

that a large proportion of the Party was unceremoniously eliminated.

Elimination meant not only demotion but it was practically a death

sentence, for those expelled were charged with that most serious crime

against the state, bourgeois nationalism or sabotage, and the vast

majority were either shot or deported.

Postyshev turned his attention to the Academy of Sciences which had

already been purged of its leading members. Here he found some two

hundred and fifty more who were removed on charges of Ukrainian

chauvinism or sabotage. In their place, he introduced ordinary

Communists or Russians with more regard to their reliability and their

loyalty to Stalin than to their capability or scholarly qualifications.

Postyshev’s object was the rerussification of the country, for it

had already been commented in Moscow that there were too many of the

young Ukrainians who were securing an education only in Ukrainian

without knowing the master language of Russian. Skrypnyk had paid no

attention to these complaints, for he retorted that in Moscow the young

Russians were not learning Ukrainian and he assumed that all the Soviet

Republics had the same rights. He was soon to learn differently, for

from now on Russian was to be the official language of widest use.

In every considerable city Postyshev established Russian newspapers

which had almost completely vanished during the period of

Ukrainization. He opened Russian schools in the leading cities and he

introduced Russian into all the other schools on an equality basis

with Ukrainian. He established Russian theatres in the larger cities

and sent them Russian companies from Leningrad and Moscow to show the

greatness of Russian art, while at the same time he had Les Kurbas

arrested at the end of the year and closed the Berezil Theatre, the

leading company in Ukraine, and even abolished its name as Catherine

the Great had abolished the name of the Zaporozhian Sich one hundred

fifty years before.

The fundamental object was to re-Russianize Ukraine as rapidly as

possible. In pursuance of this idea, Zatonsky even suggested that

the students should be encouraged to talk a mixture of Russian and

Ukrainian in the hope that they could thus be more quickly induced to

accept the alien tongue. That was a rash thought, for as soon as it

was reported to Moscow, there came a strong protest from Gorky that

such a procedure could only injure the purity of the Russian language

by mixing foreign elements in it. Zatonsky hurriedly withdrew his

suggestions but it was too late and only a few years later he was to

pay the penalty for his rash proposal.

It was small wonder that Khvylovy, who knew well that he was threatened

with arrest and execution, committed suicide in despair on May 13,

1933 and he was followed on July 6, by Skrypnyk who was too familiar

with the workings of Russian Communism not to realize that he would be

steadily demoted until he could be finished off without comment as a

fallen idol.

The terror and the destruction proceeded apace and after the murder

of Kirov in Leningrad on December 21, 1934, new investigations were

ordered and it was discovered that the bulk of the Ukrainian authors

were involved in the conspiracy. In a very short time their ranks

were almost completely decimated. In the same month H. Kosynka, O.

Vlyzko, I. Krushelnytsky, K. Burevy, and D. Falkivsky were shot on

various pretenses. Nearly all the former members of the _Vaplite_, the

Neo-Classicists, the groups connected with the MARS in Kiev and the

_New Generation_, were liquidated in one way or another, either by

execution or deportation and deportation was practically the equivalent

of death, for scarcely one of the deported ever returned to the Ukraine

or made his presence or his present place of dwelling known to any of

his friends.

It would be too long to mention the list of names, but among them were

all the outstanding names of the preceding years, Kulish, Yalovy,

Yohansen, Epik, Zerov, Dray-Khmara, Kosynka, Pidmohylny, Semenko,

Vuzko, etc. These men were not only put out of the way but every

attempt was made to prove that they had never existed. Their books were

removed from the libraries and bookstores and, so far as possible, even

references to them and their work were expunged from encyclopedias and

reference books and the movement which they represented and which,

but a short time before, had been patronized by the Commissariat of

Education was rendered non-existent. Only the name of Khvylovy remained

as an example of anti-Russian work and he was presented as a pupil of

Petlyura, Hrushevsky and the Western imperialists and a believer in

bourgeois nationalism, a term which was now extended to cover anything

hostile to the general line of the Party.

Faced with the certainty of sharing the fate of their colleagues, some

of even the more prominent authors began to waver. Among this number

were Tychyna and, a little more reluctantly, Rylsky. In fact, it

required a term in prison to bring the latter to an appreciation of the

beauties of the new order. Both proved themselves valuable converts,

even if they were compelled to forget all their old mannerisms and

perfections of style and produce tasteless propaganda poetry, while the

official organs boasted of their slow but steady growth in realism.

Thus, in 1934 Kulyk could say of Tychyna, “The collection of _The Party

Leads_ represents an unquestionable achievement. Nevertheless we should

be rendering poor service to Tychyna himself if we failed to point

out the uneven tenor, and sometimes even hesitation, in the artistic

expression of themes and ideas new to him. Stronger organizational

ties with the realities, emancipation from artificial, at times purely

bookish culture, such are the conditions on which depends further

progress by Tychyna along the new road chosen by this great Ukrainian

poet.” Rylsky and Bazhan were treated in the same way, while such

writers as Panch and Holovko were told it was their task to get over

the old notion that “Mother Ukraine” had the same interest in all

her sons, whether they were working men, peasants or intellectual

nationalists. Both of them later revised their works under the kind

leadership of the Party.

The proletarian writers and those who were content to write upon the

prescribed or recommended themes were in their element. Kyrylenko and

Mykytenko wrote glowingly and woodenly about collectivization and the

elimination of the kulaks, “the dregs of society.” Korniychuk, a young

dramatist, presented in his plays all the appropriate Five Year plan

subjects and gloried in the defeat of the old in the factories and on

the collective farms. Everything in the literary field that glorified

the Communist Party and rejected those ideas which had flourished under

the preceding regime was applauded and the successful received honors

and wealth and Stalin prizes for literary achievement.

The same development or retrogression was to be noted in the more

purely scientific fields, especially where they touched studies

dealing with the Ukrainian language, history or culture. Skrypnyk

had removed some of the more distinguished members of the Academy of

Science. Postyshev purged most of their followers and then he went on

to reorganize the institution in the Communist way. The Academy was

changed into a series of separate institutes, each of which was subject

only to a carefully chosen Presidium.

Then, at the end of 1934 all of those institutes connected with the

old Historical Section and which dealt with such subjects as Ukrainian

archaeology, history, history of law, Western Ukraine, etc. were

abolished. The study of the humanities was practically ended and the

old staff was excluded. There were left only institutes of language

and material culture to care for the past and all other subjects

were handed over to the network of the VUAMLIN, the reorganized

and strengthened network of Marxo-Leninist institutes, which could

serve as a more reliable means of spreading Communist doctrine in a

pseudo-scientific form. They created a new complex of societies as the

Society of Marxist Historians, all of which had the avowed purpose of

glorifying the regime at the expense of any form of scientific truth.

In the field of studies in the Ukrainian language, under the leadership

of A. Khvylya who had already distinguished himself by his attacks on

the entire process of Ukrainization, new steps were taken to counteract

all that had been gained by any school of thought.

In the beginning Naum Kaganovich had tried to show that the scholars

of the preceding period had worked under the influence of “populist”

theories of language. He was soon forced to change this to a statement

that the work had been “bourgeois nationalist,” the favorite slogan for

anything that was not Russian. In his article, _The Language Theory of

Ukrainian Bourgeois Nationalism_, he wrote: “Here under the conception

of the people emerge the kurkul circles; the bourgeois nationalists

have shaped the development of the Ukrainian language on the speech

of the kurkuls.” In another passage he declared: “By this approach to

the people the bourgeois nationalists understand the removal from the

language of everything that is connected with the October revolution,

the removal of all features which bring it closer to the language of

the Russian proletariat and the workers of the other republics of the

USSR and the implanting of everything that is outmoded, conservative

and permeated with the nationalist bourgeois spirit.”

It was easy to see at what these new “scholars” were aiming. The old

arguments as to whether the local dialects of the peasants or the newer

literary language which had been developed for over a century was the

better Ukrainian were now replaced by the definite statement that the

proper form was that which was the language of the more “advanced”

classes, i.e. the Communists and their sympathizers, who were the least

connected with any special area and were the least affected by any

considerations of locality or traditional culture or usage. Even during

Ukrainization the Communists of high rank coming from Moscow had been

officially relieved of the task of learning Ukrainian. Now this was

expanded and those who, of their own volition, learned a few words were

adjudged the best authorities on Ukrainian because of their Communist

knowledge and standing.

The new authorities set themselves the task of rooting out those

attempts which the “bourgeois nationalists” had made to bring together

the Ukrainians of the east and of the west. They declared that the

preceding group had sought to bring back capitalism and to separate

Ukrainian from the “brotherly” Russian and to remodel it on Polish

and German standards. They attacked any system of orthography and

transliteration which differed from that used in Russian and in their

attacks on Polonisms in Ukrainian they went so far as to call Polish

any Ukrainian form which differed from the Russian, even when the

Polish word in fact had the same form as the Russian and differed from

the Ukrainian.

In the small dictionaries that were printed only those words were

admitted that revealed Russian relations and the academician Krymsky

once remarked of one of these that it was merely a Russian-Russian

dictionary, so far had the process been carried.

In 1933 Khvylya published a new orthography for Ukrainian. This

repudiated the work that had been done earlier to bring together

Eastern and Western Ukrainian and sought to take as the standard those

Ukrainian dialects that had been most thoroughly russianized, although

at the same time he carefully avoided explaining the policy on which he

was working.

Thus, during these years there developed a definite policy of

disintegrating the language from within. It was based very definitely

upon the old theories of the nineteenth century, that Ukrainian was

merely a corrupt form of Russian and could not have any independent

development, but such a statement which would have satisfied Nicholas

I and Belinsky was not expressed clearly. It was enveloped in a mass

of Communist jargon which appealed to the great names of Bolshevik

ideology and covered a complete ignorance of any of the facts of

language or of popular usage.

At the same time in another field Postyshev saw the opportunity to

deliver further blows under the guise of progress and of satisfying

Ukrainian aspirations. He moved the capital of the Ukrainian Republic

back to Kiev from Kharkiv. There were good reasons for this. The Soviet

regime had been established at Kharkiv, because it was nearer to the

Russian boundary and hence could more easily receive support from

Russian military sources during the civil war. Kiev, as the centre

of traditional Ukrainian life, was more liable to sympathy with the

Ukrainian national movement, as the Russians had found on more than one

occasion. Now, with the country prostrate, it seemed advisable for the

Communists to mark their triumph and endeavor to identify themselves

with the masses by recognizing Kiev.

Yet, it brought with it another blow to Ukrainian prestige. Of all the

cities in Ukraine, Kiev was the richest in the monuments of the past.

Therefore, to mark the Communist triumph, they decided to rebuild large

portions of the city and to erect buildings that would be worthy of the

new regime. It was easy to find as the proper sites the areas where the

old Kiev had stood.

From the very first days of Bolshevism and Communism, the regime,

with its atheistic trends, had devoted itself to the robbing of the

churches. Even the ikonostasis of St. Sophia had been melted down

to recover the gold ornaments with which it had been decorated. The

museums had been largely pillaged. Some of the contents had been

removed to Moscow on various pretexts, but still more had been wantonly

destroyed.

Now work began in earnest to wreck the surviving monuments of the

past. In quick succession the Communists ruined, blew up or levelled

a large number of churches which spoke too strongly of the past

greatness of Kiev and the Ukrainians. These included the Cathedral

Church of the Golden Domed Monastery of St. Michael of the twelfth

century, with a bell-tower of the seventeenth, the Church of the

Three Saints of the twelfth century, the cloisters of the Monastery

of St. Irena of the eleventh century, the finest monuments of the

period of Mazepa at the end of the seventeenth century, including

the Cathedrals of the Theophany of the Brotherhood Monastery and the

“Great Nicholas” of the Ustyno-Mykolayiv Monastery, the work of the

architect Joseph Startsev, with a bell-tower of the late eighteenth

or the early nineteenth century, the “Little Nicholas” and the Church

of St. George of the eighteenth century, a large number of structures

of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, of the Kievan-Mezhyhirye

Monastery of the Transfiguration, the Church of Sts. Peter and

Paul in Podil of the eighteenth century, the bell-tower of the

Kiev-Kiril-Troitsky Monastery of the eighteenth century built by the

architect Ivan Hryhorovych-Barsky, the Church of Sts. Borys and Hlib of

the eighteenth century, the Church of the Birth of Christ and the “good

Nicholas,” built by Andry Melensky at the beginning of the nineteenth

century, the Church of the Tithes, the celebrated statue of Samson by

Hryhorovych-Barsky, and a long series of other monuments and buildings.

Almost all of these buildings came from those periods when the

Ukrainians were the most free from Russian influence or, as in the case

of the Mazepa baroque, had the closest contacts with the West. It was a

deliberate part of the Communist attempt to rewrite the Ukrainian past.

Of course, their excuse was that the old primarily ecclesiastical

culture stood in marked contradiction to the modern era of

industrialization and collectivization, the “glorious age of Stalin”

which called for the development of a new type of architecture. Still,

in a surprising number of cases these new buildings did not make their

appearance and the ground was left empty or covered with insignificant

structures which could better have been placed on the site of those

half-ruined shacks and hovels which were the real expressions of the

Communist paradise.

The primary object was the annihilation of the Ukrainian spirit and

represented part of the broad general movement which had been launched

for the rerussification of the country and the stopping in every way

of that spontaneous outburst of development which had been called into

being by the downfall of tsarism and the founding of the Ukrainian

National Republic. The general debacle was now complete.

Within four years, before the ending of the first Five Year Plan a

situation had been brought about which seemed to the Soviet authorities

a guarantee of their final victory over what they were pleased to call

bourgeois nationalism but which was, in reality, the logical outgrowth

of the Ukrainian aspirations throughout the centuries.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The Thirties

With the completion of the compulsory collectivization, the ending of

the famine and the destruction of the Ukrainian cultural renaissance,

the country entered a new phase. The position in which it found itself

was almost the opposite of the twenties. As, at the end of Militant

Communism, the land was ruined and exhausted, so it was again. The

number of domestic animals had dropped almost to the level of the

earlier period, agriculture had been rendered prostrate, and material

well-being had disappeared as the peasants were forced to labor on the

collective farms.

On the other hand, there was none of that excitement and desire for

work that had accompanied the introduction and development of the New

Economic Policy, when the relaxation of the restrictions and the end

of the lawlessness of Militant Communism had restored the possibility

of profit to the people and when they could hope to see the results of

their own labor.

More than that, the earlier period had been marked by the belief of

the Ukrainian Communists that they could find an independent place in

the Communist International. Then there was a conflict between those

who wished a development of Ukrainian ideals and traditions, a union

of the old and the new, and those who adopted a strictly Russian point

of view. Now there was only one dominating force--the Russian. It had

been made clear that there was to be no open antagonism. The Russian

point of view was the only one that could hope to find acceptance in

Communism, the Communist International had become a mere adjunct of

the Russian Communist Party, all Ukrainian sympathies and expressions

were banned, and the Ukrainian spirit was forced on the defensive and

compelled to fight a rearguard action for maintaining its existence.

Step by step, Stalin and the Russian Communist Party was changing

the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics into a Russian empire with

its non-Russian dependencies and, despite the Constitution of the

Union and of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic, it was becoming

ever more and more clear that the latter was to be treated merely as

a geographical colony of the new Russian-dominated union, with no

attention to its wishes or its needs.

Ukraine under the Soviets · 第 9 / 17 段