[aaus-list] Wall St. Journal Oped on Mazepa

[ajmotyl at andromeda.rutgers.edu]

Historical Battle Lines
<http://online.wsj.com/article/SB124708161090713405.html>

OPINION EUROPE JULY 9, 2009
Historical Battle Lines
Why is Russia afraid of a 300-year-old Ukrainian hero?
By ADRIAN KARATNYCKY and ALEXANDER J. MOTYL

Lord Byron, Pushkin, and Victor Hugo wrote poems about him. Liszt
composed a symphonic work in his honor, Tchaikovsky devoted an opera
to him, and Gericault painted him tied naked to a horse. In centuries
past he was a historical superstar -- a poster child for the Romantic
era.

His name was Ivan Mazepa, a Ukrainian Cossack chieftain who allied
with Sweden's Charles XII to fight Russia's Czar Peter the Great at
the Battle of Poltava, 300 years ago this week.

The swashbuckling subject of Romantic-era adulation is once again
attracting attention, this time as the subject of a dispute over
history between the leaders of Russia and Ukraine. In the eyes of the
Russian state and its propagandists, Mazepa is Public Enemy No. 1 -- a
turncoat who betrayed Peter the Great, Orthodox Christianity and the
unity of Slavic peoples. Most Russian historians have judged Mazepa a
traitor. Acting under the instruction of Czar Peter, the Russian
Orthodox Church excommunicated him and placed an anathema on him, and
still vilifies him in annual Poltava services. In turn, many Ukrainian
historians regard Mazepa as an honored fighter for Ukraine's
statehood. President Viktor Yushchenko extols Mazepa as a heroic
precursor of Ukraine's independence and his image is emblazoned on the
10 hryvnia note ($1.30).

Passions over Mazepa have not been as heated in three centuries as
this year. In recent days, amid ceremonies, costumed reenactments,
conferences and television programs on the Poltava battle, Russian
demonstrators have burned him in effigy. Ukrainian patriots rallied in
Poltava on June 27 and unfurled a 30-meter by 45-meter Ukrainian flag
in his honor. And a security force of nearly 1,000 has been deployed
in Poltava and successfully staved off conflicts between the two
sides.

On the surface, there is little in Mazepa's biography that would
warrant such intense feelings. He was born to a prosperous and
educated family in Polish-occupied Ukraine in 1639 and served in the
Polish court until 1665, when he returned to Ukraine, eventually
joining the ranks of the Cossacks loyal to the Polish crown. In 1687,
Mazepa was elected Hetman, or chieftain, of the Cossack Host in
eastern Ukraine that was loyal to the Muscovite Czar. A prosperous
magnate, Mazepa built churches and supported the arts and education
while pursuing the goal of uniting all Ukrainian lands in a Cossack
state. After years of partnership with Peter the Great, Mazepa sensed
Russia's growing ambitions were a threat to Ukraine's sovereignty. He
abruptly turned against Peter and in 1709 joined Sweden's young king,
Charles XII, in a campaign against Russia. The Swedish-Ukrainian
alliance suffered a crushing defeat at Poltava. Charles died from a
battle wound and Mazepa fled to today's Moldova, where he also died
soon after.

Poltava helped shape Europe's geopolitics for three centuries.
Russia's emphatic rout of Sweden and its Cossack allies signaled its
emergence as a European superpower and ensured Russian dominion over
Eastern Ukraine for the bulk of three centuries. Peter constructed a
new narrative for his realm. Instead of being Muscovy, it was to be
Russia. As such, he and his state could claim lineage with the Kievan
state called Rus that had accepted Christianity in 988 and collapsed
in the 13th century. In one simple historical revision that
complemented his opening to the West, Peter and his realm would be
transformed from Asiatic upstarts to a European empire. Kiev would
become the "mother of all Russian cities."

There was, of course, no place in this scheme for anything resembling
an independent or autonomous Ukraine. Indeed, any claim to Kiev's
autonomy or separate nationality, any Ukraine-based opposition to
Russian rule, was a direct threat to the Petrine myth and the
legitimacy that it helped confer on the Russian state. Mazepa had to
go, and has never been allowed to return to historical grace for the
same reason. Every Russian ruler has vilified him since the fateful
battle at Poltava.

For Russians, Poltava without question was a great historical victory
and Russians should be free to memorialize it as such. And there is no
question that in the 17th century, national identities were ill-formed
and many inhabitants of the territory of Ukraine felt a stronger
kinship for the common Orthodox faith they shared with Russians than
for any aim of independence. But for contemporary Ukrainians, there
can be no similar ambivalence. As a young state that gained
independence in 1991, Ukraine must develop its own sense of history,
its own heroes and founding fathers. In short, it needs a common
historical narrative to bind its citizens.

Such efforts are at best benign and should excite from Russia no more
than a firmly agnostic ambivalence. But the vehemence of Russian
polemics over events and personalities three centuries old speaks to
the Russian state's interest in keeping alive the idea of the eventual
reunification of the two states. It also helps perpetuate a cultural
divide between Ukraine's Ukrainian-speaking west and the Russophone
east.

In this context, there are several reasons why Poltava resonates.
First, Mazepa and the Cossacks represent a political force that sought
autonomy and independence from Russian dominion. Second, Mazepa not
only turned against Russia, he made common cause with Sweden, i.e.
with Europe and the West. Third, for politicians like Vladimir Putin
who lionize the Russian empire and lament the disintegration of the
Soviet Union, branding Mazepa a traitor sends a not-so-subtle message
that proponents of Ukraine's statehood today are also betraying the
cause of Slavic unity.

With Russia adamantly opposed to Ukraine's integration into European
structures and with Mr. Putin on record as questioning the permanence
of Ukraine's statehood, Russia is investing significant resources on
challenging Ukraine's shaping of a separate national identity and
history. These efforts include film documentaries challenging
Ukraine's effort to commemorate Stalin's famine as a national
genocide, and financing "Taras Bulba," a big-budget epic film that
depicts the Cossacks as loyal supporters of the Russian empire and
adds scenes -- absent in Gogol's 19th century novel on which the movie
is based -- of Poles as murderous barbarians engaged in pillaging and
rape.

While this Russian effort to upend Ukrainian national identity is not
likely to succeed, over the short term it can help perpetuate
Ukraine's east-west divide, promoting instability and increasing
Russia's opportunities to reassert hegemony over its weak neighbor.

Until Ukraine can shape its historiography calmly and professionally
without external interference, its polity will continue to be plagued
by divisions and its society by lack of cohesion. This is why the
contemporary battle over the meaning of Poltava is as significant as
the Battle of Poltava was three centuries ago.

Mr. Karatnycky is a senior fellow with the Atlantic Council of the
U.S. Mr. Motyl is professor of political science at Rutgers University
in New Jersey.


-- 
Adrian Karatnycky
Managing Partner, Myrmidon Group LLC
www.myrmidongrpllc.com
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