The Odesan myth and the Ukrainian façade

Photo by Tomasz Lachowski

In other places, the strength of the Ukrainian state proved to be too weak, thanks to which criminal clans began to exert real power, like in the case of Zakarpattia (which to this day is a serious problem in Ukraine, especially after the Kremlin’s aggression).

This diversity – political, cultural and even ethnic – is also clearly visible in the Odesa region and the city of Odesa. Undoubtedly after 2014, separatist forces (or simply Moscow) were trying to take advantage of it – although their influence on Odesa’s residents today seems to be marginal.

How would you describe Odesa’s character? Few people are aware of the city’s historical diversity and the many nationalities which have shaped it.

In practice we can distinguish three myths about Odesa. First, there is the legend that Odesa is a Russian imperial city founded by Catherine the Great in 1794. This is, of course, true but at the same time the myth suggests that the city has been striving to become part of Russia.

The second myth (popular after the Revolution of Dignity) can be referred to as  the Ukrainian myth (which is also a simplification). It assumes that the city does not differ from other Ukrainian cities (especially those in the south and east of the country), which is clearly not the case. Odesa was part of the territories captured by the Turks at the end of the 18th century when the historical region of Novorossiya was forming. The tradition of Novorossiya was revived after 2014 by the self-proclaimed people’s republics of Donbas in a clearly distorted and ahistorical way. Today, the separatist leaders have adopted a narrative of Little Russia (Malorossiya). However, Alexander Zakharchenko, the leader of the Donetsk People’s Republic, understands the concept differently than it was historically interpreted, where Little Russian identity was markedly different from Russian identity.

The third and final myth depicts Odesa as a multinational and multicultural city without any deep conflicts. In the past, Odesa’s linguae francae were Italian and French, although, of course, Russian was the official language. Odesa was a Russian-speaking city, but in reality the majority of Odesans spoke their own peculiar dialect drawing on Russian, Ukrainian and German traditions as well as Yiddish. Let us not forget that in the 19th century Odesa was also built by the Poles, who to this day constitute a cohesive and strong, although no longer a numerous, minority.

Myths seek to create reality, but they usually have little to do with it…

This is true in the Odesa case as well. None of the myths I mentioned reflect reality, although the last one is surely the closest to the truth. However, it is important to note that this was a tourist-carnival myth developed in the 1960s during Nikita Khrushchev’s time, which is still being popularised by those who benefit from tourism. Unfortunately, important elements of this myth are no longer there – especially the Jewish element since most Odesan Jews were exterminated during the Holocaust. After the war, Germans were displaced to Kazakhstan and the characteristic Odesan architecture was increasingly replaced by new buildings, without respect for the city’s tradition. What remained was a commercialised “façade”.

Has anything changed in Odesa following the Revolution of Dignity? It is worth remembering the tragic events of May 2nd 2014, when clashes between supporters of change and the so-called Anti-Maidan killed almost 50 people. Has the memory of this tragedy, variously interpreted, influenced the city’s life today?

This tourist-carnival myth is still alive, and it may have even strengthened following the annexation of Crimea by Russia, thanks to which Odesa has become the main holiday destination for Ukrainians. Over this period, a number of Maidan activists, volunteers and participants in the Donbas war appeared in Odesa. Many of them spoke Ukrainian and expected more from their city than pretty façades of historical buildings and a place for a summer rest.

When it comes to the tragedy of May 2nd – as we tend to refer to this gruesome day – while I do not have a 100 per cent certainty, I think that the authorities are the ones to blame for the huge fire in the Trade Unions building. The delayed arrival of the ambulances is one of the reasons. Three myths grew around the events – the first one, promoted in the Russian media, blames “Ukrainian fascists” who came to fight “Russian patriots”. The second myth talks about an FSB provocation, and the third one – a mixed one – points to the interests of the local authorities, the police and other influential people from Odesa at the time. Again, the third one seems to be the most viable. In a sense, I myself was drawn into the politics of disinformation at the time. I was credited as saying that “after the Russians were burned, the air in Odesa became cleaner”, which is a complete lie, just like the claim that I wrote a poem in a similar tone, which I did not.

How has the EuroMaidan and the Russian aggression against Ukraine influenced your writing?

For many years I was an exclusively Russian language author. I was born in Chernivtsi, in Ukraine’s Bukovina region, but it was only during my short stay in Stanisławów (renamed Ivano-Frankivsk in 1962) when I was a student that I learnt Ukrainian. Thanks to that, we can now converse in that language, but I have spent the majority of my life in the predominantly Russian-speaking Odesa and Kyiv. At the same, I do not deny that in 2014 I felt sorry that I did not speak and write my country’s mother tongue; so I have decided that my next novel, Duvet’s fractions (Клаптикова ковдра), will be half written in Ukrainian and half written in Russian. Even my wife, who comes from Moldova, started speaking Ukrainian from time to time – all thanks to Vladimir Putin.

The authorities in Kyiv have tried to increase the presence of the Ukrainian language in the media. They have introduced time and quantity quotas for broadcasters to meet in their Ukrainian language programmes. Do you think it is a good solution given how sensitive and political the issue of language is?

First of all, I think the issue of language is extremely important and it is good that the authorities support the development of the Ukrainian language. Secondly, however, I think that if someone was born in a Russian-speaking environment, grew up and matured in it, he or she should also have the right to die in it. No forceful actions are advisable, as it is impossible to encourage someone using legal means to change their long-established habits. There are people who would give their lives away for the Ukrainian ideal and yet they do not know the official language – they cannot be denied the right to be Ukrainian patriots just because they speak Russian at home.

Nevertheless, we have to fight all the symptoms that denigrate our language. In Moscow you can often hear it said that Ukrainian is a regional dialect of the Russian language, and that a nation without its own language has no right to independently exist. I do not agree to that, but at the same time I do not agree that Ukrainians should totally dismiss Russian culture, which has existed long before Vladimir Putin came to power.

The church is an important element of Ukraine’s public life. Next to the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate, there is the Orthodox Church of the Kyiv Patriarchate, the Ukrainian Autocephalous Orthodox Church, the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church as well as the Roman Catholic Church and many other smaller denominations. Does the churches’ activity influence the unification of the Ukrainian nation, especially in light of the war in the east of the country?

We have to remember that, in the Orthodox tradition, the priest is a very important figure. For the Russian Orthodox Church, the Soviet Union still exists and so does the Holy Rus’, but only on the rhetorical level, never in the service of God. I was baptised within the Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Moscow Patriarchate – although today, for political reasons, I am much closer to the Kyiv Patriarchate, or even – as long as Bishop Lubomyr Huzar was still alive – to Greek Catholics. I think that in practice there are few differences between these rituals, except for the small issue of being subject to the pope in the Vatican in the case of the Greek Catholic Church. Of course, the latter is a huge church in a regional sense, just to compare the scale and scope of liturgy in the St George Cathedral in Lviv and a small Greek Catholic chapel in Odesa to note the difference. I have never heard any calls for separatism in the church, but my friends say they have witnessed pseudo-patriotic activity of the Moscow Patriarchate’s priests, some of whom were taking photographs on the May 9th Victory Day with the portrait of Stalin in the background. In Odesa, the church never supported the Revolution of Dignity, although I personally know several priests who decided to back the Ukrainian ideal, so strongly articulated on Kyiv’s Maidan in the winter of 2013 and 2014.

The question regarding the extent of national consolidation remains open. It is especially important in the context of the need to reintegrate Donbas and Crimea. It seems that not everyone believes in regaining the illegally occupied territories…

Undoubtedly, the loss of Crimea and Donbas, as a result of the Kremlin’s aggression (not only physical, but also a brutal verbal one), is something negative, but at the same time, paradoxically, the events contributed to the awakening of the self-consciousness of the Ukrainian spirit and the creation of the foundations of Ukrainian national identity. Perhaps my position is not as clear-cut, but I think that for Ukraine’s development, especially its European path, leaving Crimea and Donbas out would be a better solution, although I realise that as far as our state interest is concerned – in a strictly legal sense – we need to continuously stress the Ukrainianess of these regions on the international arena.

We need to ask ourselves what we can do with those who do not want to be with us. Shall we deport all separatists to Russia after regaining control of Donbas? Or maybe we would prefer to have an area in the country that would constantly block Kyiv’s reform attempts? The answer seems to be obvious.

On the other hand, the lack of control over parts of its territory can bury Ukraine’s chances for full integration with the European Union…

We have the example of Northern Cyprus, a country supported and recognised only by Turkey, which has existed since Ankara’s invasion of Cyprus in the mid-1970s. All efforts to unify Cyprus so far have failed and yet the country joined the European Union in 2004, and formally the whole territory has been admitted to the structure. Coming back to Ukraine, I think the return of Crimea and Donbas could only be possible after the disintegration of today’s Russian empire.

But how can a police state, ruled with a heavy hand and with significant social support, disintegrate?

I would rather ask whether its disintegration would be beneficial for the whole European continent. This is a key issue for the security of Ukraine, but also Poland.

Translated by Tomasz Lachowski and Agnieszka Pikulicka-Wilczewska

Borys Khersonskyy is a writer and professor of clinical psychology. Since 2017 he has been a rector of the Institute of Contemporary Psychology and Psychotherapy in Kyiv. He is a prominent Ukrainian intellectual, translator, poet and writer from Odesa.

Tomasz Lachowski is a lawyer and journalist. He has a PhD in international law from the University of Łódź and is the editor in chief of the Polish online magazine Obserwator Międzynarodowy (International Observer).

 Vitalii Mazurenko is a lawyer and journalist, member of Self-Defence of Euromaidan in Odesa and PhD Candidate at the John Paul II Catholic University of Lublin dealing with the issue of human rights protection in Ukraine.

identity, Odesa, Ukraine