What comes to mind when you think about William Wordsworth, John Milton George Gordon Byron, Alfred Tennyson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Johann Wolfgang Goette, Friedrich Schiller, Charles Baudelaire, Alexandr Pushkin, Mikhail Lermontov, Dante Alighieri, and, and, and? Well, that they all wrote in their native tongues. Now, when it comes to Taras Shevchenko — the national bard of Ukraine – he wrote both in Ukrainian and Russian. His prose is exclusively in Russian and – which is a very telling factor – his personal diary is in Russian as well. Nonetheless, he is regarded as the Ukrainian national poet. Despite that fact, Russian is being suppressed in present-day Ukraine or at least its usage is strongly discouraged, even though the national bard did not think it wrong to confide his innermost thoughts in Russian.
Taras Shevchenko (1814-1861) is a good example of the problematic Ukrainian national identity. There are circles in Ukraine who would do anything to sharply delineate anything Ukrainian from anything Russian, but then – lo and behold! – their own national bard poses such a big problem. His use of the Ukrainian language appears to have been reserved for poetry only, which might point to things other than patriotic sentiment in the broad nationalistic sense of the word. Taras Shevchenko’s choice of Ukrainian may have been a poet’s preference of the regional kind of Russian that he found… more melodious? more charming? more mysterious or enigmatic? It is perhaps only due to the certain subjects that he sang about in his poetry that Taras Shevchenko opted for that regional kind of Russian. Who can tell?
This distinction between Ukrainian and Russian is like the distinction between the Czech and Slovak languages. Using a phenetic term for comparison purposes, one is tempted to say that Russian and Ukrainian as well as Czech and Slovak are allophones of the same tongue. (Allophones are two varieties of the same language sound, like the dark and light L occurring, respectively, in feel and look. The smallness of the difference between them in pronunciation does not merit different characters in writing.). In the Czech and Slovak lands, in the 19th century, when those lands were part of the Habsburg monarchy, there was a national revival, which – among other things – consisted in restoring to its full literary use the language, Czech in the west, Slovak in the east. Now Slovak intellectuals stood before a choice: either to adopt the Czech language and give up on Slovak, regarding the latter as the regional allophone of Czech, or to opt for Slovak and develop it in opposition to the Czech language. The Slovak intellectuals chose to stick to the Slovak variety of the Czecho-Slovak allophones; hence, two languages – Czech and Slovak, although they are barely distinguishable.
Both, in the case of the Czech-and-Slovak divide as well as in the case of the Ukrainian-and-Russian divide the two varieties of the same language are mutually intelligible. Oh yes, Ukrainian chauvinists will try to talk you into believing that there is a huge gap between Ukrainian and Russian, just as the Croat chauvinists will try to convince you that there is a world of difference between Croatian and Serbian. To bring the point home they might point to the Latin script used by Croats and the Cyrillic script used by Serbs. Gullible people will readily fall for the trick and think, looking at the different scripts, that these are two different languages. People very often assess languages by the script that they are confronted with. The more bizarre from their point of view the script (Arabic, Chinese), the more they tend to think of a language as ‘difficult’, ‘strange’, or ‘weird’.
The case of the Ukrainian-Russian divide is compounded by the fact that there is no clear cut between the two allophones: between the Ukrainian spoken in western Ukraine and Russian spoken in eastern Ukraine. There exists a gamut of mixtures between the two, which collectively are known as Surzhyk, a hybrid language. There is nothing like that between Polish and Czech – two distinct Slavic languages – or between Polish and Russian – again two distinct Slavic languages, but there is this gradual transition between Ukrainian and Russian, an almost imperceptible transition like that in the colour spectrum in which it is very, very hard to point to a line clearly separating one shade of blue (green, red) from the other.
The fact that Taras Shevchenko used to write in both languages, but especially in Russian, reflects very well the problem of Ukrainian national and cultural identity. Nikita Khrushchev and Leonid Brezhnev (in office 1953-1964 and 1964-1984, respectively) – two consecutive leaders of the Soviet Union – had the same problem. It is disputable to this very day how much they identified as Russian and how much as Ukrainian. The former was visibly drawn to certain elements of Ukrainian culture, the latter’s personal documents identify him as Russian or Ukrainian, with no consistency. The fact that Nikita Khrushchev had otherwise Russian Crimea incorporated into the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic (tearing it away from the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic) testifies to either Khrushchev’s Ukrainian proclivities or his view that Ukraine and Russia are the two sides of the same coin; hence, the transfer of a province from one to the other was like handing a car over between brothers.
Coming back to Taras Shevchenko. Of his 47 years of life, he spent 17 adult years in Saint Petersburg. It was predominantly his childhood that he spent in Ukraine. It was there and at that time that Ukrainian folklore sank into his soul to later resonate in his Ukrainian poetry. Not an infrequent phenomenon: Alexandr Pushkin would recreate his nanny’s folk stories in his later poetry as did many other poets around the globe. Writers and poets from all countries of the world sometimes fancy to write partly or generally in a local variety of their mother tongue. Think about Robert Burns, the national poet of Scotland, who – just as Taras Shevchenko – wrote in both English and in Scots dialects, often mixing the two. In fact, when you take a look at such a stanza composed by Burns as this one:
Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!
and compare it with the anglicised version:
Thy wee-bit house, too, in ruin!
Its silly walls the winds are strewin!
An’ nothing, now, to build a new one,
O’ grass green!
An’ bleak December’s winds ensuin,
Both bitter an’ keen!
you can get a taste of what it is for a native of Russian to confront a Ukrainian – written or spoken – text. See in the above comparison that apart from only three words (marked in blue) that are entirely different, the others (marked in green) are very similar.
Ivan Franko (1856-1916) was another Ukrainian national bard. His case is as interesting as that of Taras Shevchenko when you think about Ukrainian national identity. Ivan Franko wrote his poetry and novels in Ukrainian and… Polish. Yes, and in Polish. He is credited to have written more than a thousand articles in Polish. Interestingly enough, he would also translate some of his Ukrainian poetry into Polish. No wonder, then: Ivan Franko lived and wrote in the city of Lvov, a predominantly Polish city at that time, a Polish demographic island in a sea of mostly Ukrainian villages.
What is even more surprising is that in the 19th century there emerged a branch of Polish romantic poets who are collectively referred to as the poets of the Ukrainian School. Though they wrote in Polish, the themes and protagonists of their poetry were Ukrainian folklore, Ukrainian myths and legends, Ukrainian mythical heroes. Antoni Malczewski wrote Maria, a Ukrainian Story, Józef Bohdan Zaleski wrote poems about Kosinsky and Mazepa – Kossak or Ukrainian national heroes, while Seweryn Goszczyński wrote Kaniov Castle, a narrative poem set in Ukraine, whose protagonists are Ukrainians and Poles. Ukraine, Ukrainian folklore, Ukrainian legendary or historical heroes feature in many a poem of other romantic and post-romantic Polish poets, some of whom (Juliusz Słowacki, Wincenty Pol) till this very day enjoy the status of Polish (not Ukrainian) national bards.
Considering all this one might extend the above adduced linguistic spectrum from (starting from the west) Polish, through Ukrainian, Surzhyk to Russian (in the east). This can be illustrated by the three texts of the Lord’s Prayer placed alongside. Surzhyk is not present in the juxtaposition below as by definition there is no one Surzhyk, but – rather – many varieties of it.
(Ukrainian and Russian texts have been transcribed into the Latin script.)
| POLISH |
UKRAINIAN |
RUSSIAN |
|
|
|
| Ojcze nasz, któryś jest w niebie, |
Otche nash, shcho yesy na nebesakh! |
Otche nash, izhe yesi na nebesekh! |
| święć się imię Twoje; |
Nekhay sviatytsia imia Tvoie, |
Da sviatitsia imia Tvoye, |
| przyjdź królestwo Twoje; |
nekhay pryide Tsarstvo Tvoie, |
da priidet Tsarstviye Tvoye, |
| bądź wola Twoja jako w niebie, tak i na ziemi. |
nekhay bude volia Tvoia, yak na nebi, tak i na zemli. |
da budet volia Tvoya, yako na nebesi i na zemli. |
| Chleba naszego powszedniego daj nam dzisiaj; |
Khlib nash nasushchnyi dai nam siohodni; |
Khleb nash nasushchnyi dazhd nam dnes; |
| i odpuść nam nasze winy, jako i my odpuszczamy naszym winowajcom; |
i prosty nam provyny nashi, yak i my proshchaiemo vynuvattsiam nashym; |
i ostavi nam dolgi nasha, yakozye i my ostavliayem dolzhnikam nashim; |
| i nie wódź nas na pokuszenie, |
i ne vvedy nas u spokusu, |
i ne vvedi nas vo iskusheniye, |
| ale nas zbaw ode złego. |
ale vyzvoly nas vid lukavoho. |
no izbavi nas ot lukavogo |
The reader can assess for himself the affinity of the three languages. Of course, the comparison is heavily predicated on the translation of the Lord’s Prayer. One can easily adjust the texts to make them even more similar.
The similarity of the languages does not decide the identity in and of itself. The fact whether a writer or a poet writes exclusively in one or two languages tells a lot about his identity. Yes, people used to employ foreign languages to express themselves: in the Middle Ages it used to be Latin, later French. These used to be fashionable, international languages. The aristocracy of the 18th and 19th centuries gave preference to French rather than to their mother tongues. Prussian King Frederick the Great loved expressing himself in French rather than in German. Yet, neither Taras Shevchenko nor Ivan Franko opted for French: the former chose Russian, the latter Polish. These were not fashionable, international languages.
Ukrainian identity seems to be hung in between Polish and Russian heritages. Western Ukraine, which borders on Poland and used to be a part of the Polish Kingdom, has become hostile to eastern Ukraine, which borders on Russia and used to be a part of the Russian Empire. Ukraine is torn apart with the undecided Surzhyk area in the middle. Either the west or the east will win over, or – most likely – Ukraine will split simply because neither part seems to be getting the upper hand, and – as is commonly known – a house divided against itself will not stand.