Kharkiv, Donetsk People's Republic – a look back at history

By Nathalie de Kaniv, Historian, Delegate of EuroDéfense-France

On more than one occasion, Ukrainian essayist Mykola Riabchuk has addressed the myth of the ‘two Ukraines’, a discourse common in the West that has been fuelling the Russian narrative for the past twenty years. According to this simplistic approach, Ukraine is a country divided geographically into two, the eastern part being pro-Russian and the western part pro-European. Articles published in the West on the subject of Ukraine are peppered with these rough approximations, doubtlessly for want of any real knowledge of the country.

Yet, in his 2003 collection of essays Від "Малоросії" до України (From ‘Little Russia’ to Ukraine) Riabchuk describes Ukraine as a mixture of a post-Soviet mentality and a national awareness of its status as a sovereign state. This dichotomy transcends geographical borders and in today’s difficult times, the country’s incredible resistance in the face of Russian aggression bears witness to its exceptional unity and its irreversible rejection of its communist past.

Interestingly, the Russian-speaking part of the country has not adopted a pro-Russian stance and is clearly attached to an independent, free and European Ukraine. The gulf between these two worlds and their opposing mentalities is epitomised by the constant stream of missiles and bombs that Russia has unleashed in its desperate and unsuccessful efforts to silence the voice of a fully-fledged state, with no doubts regarding its identity.

Moreover, to the Russian mind, it is inconceivable that a city like Kharkiv – so close to Russia and predominantly Russian-speaking – could fail to go back to the Russian fold, could resist, refuse to surrender and join the chorus singing the Ukrainian national anthem among the ruins of what was a beautiful European city just weeks before. For the Russians, the population of Kharkiv are traitors. That Kharkiv should stand firm against Russia is beyond their comprehension. In truth, their judgement is clouded by a complete ignorance of history and by the aggressive propaganda served up by the Russian authorities over the past two decades.

Kharkiv: university town, Ukraine’s second city, and cradle of national rebirth

Many of those looking to identify places supportive of independence tend to focus on western Ukraine and overlook or ignore the role played by Kharkiv in the creation of Ukrainian identity.

Until the 17th century, the area in which Kharkiv is located was called Dyke Pole, or ‘Wild Fields’, a vast, uninhabited territory used for Russian expeditions or as a training ground for Cossack troops. It was, in fact, a Cossack hetman who founded Kharkiv in 1654 as part of the Russian Empire, yet with a degree of independence. Kharkiv’s Cossack origins explain the city’s attachment to Ukrainian culture, but also its fortress-like structure. Even under the tsarist empire, the Cossack culture was preserved until 1756. A university was founded there in 1726, only a few years after Saint Petersburg University.

However, the nationalist spirit championed by the region’s Cossack elite started to disturb the tsarist establishment, which little by little introduced administrative and political measures in a bid to dilute this spirit. Their endeavours were successful and, for several decades, imperial policies held sway in the region. But Kharkiv’s scientific and academic elite continued to cultivate and develop its own school of thought, while fostering the cultural and architectural development of the city. The city maintained a degree of independence from the authorities, which facilitated the development of civil society. The university, several specialist technical institutes and high schools founded throughout the 19th century, the theatre (1840), and post-1890 modern architecture all added up to the emergence of this major Ukrainian city with a political and cultural elite aware of its national identity. From the mid-19th century and through to the 1930’s, Kharkiv was a hotbed of socialist political groups (tovarystvo) , who were also in favour of Ukrainian independence. Kharkiv was not only one of the most important artistic and scientific centres, but also a birthplace of anti-tsarist rule.

In 1917, Kharkiv became Ukraine’s capital, and it remained so until 1934, with a brief hiatus in 1919-1920. The interwar years are of utmost interest because this was the period when the Ukrainian scientific and artistic elites began to take shape in the city. This avant-garde was all-encompassing: art, fashion, cinema, theatre, literature. Its leading lights maintained active contact with European artistic circles, among them the painter Mykhailo Boychuk, founder of the National School of Ukrainian art, co-founder of the Ukrainian Academy of Fine Arts, and close associate of Valloton, Sérusier and Denis), Ukrainian playwright, Les Kurbas, who worked with Vsevolod Meyerhold and Yevgeny Vakhtangov, and countless other great masters.

Ukraine’s flourishing intellectual and artistic elite of the 1920s and 1930s did not sit well with the Bolshevik authorities and their plans to Sovietise Ukraine. Between 1934 and 1937, the Bolsheviks therefore embarked on a campaign to eliminate these Ukrainian masters. More than two thousand Ukrainian artists were shot to death. First Ukrainian dissident Yuriy Litvinenko and then Polish intellectual Jerzy Giedroyc, who had emigrated to Paris, called this movement the ‘Executed Renaissance’. According to estimates, some 80% of the intellectual elite were executed in the 1930’s.

Today, in 2022, the city of Kharkiv, its elite and its youth are again lined up for systematic elimination, as they come under fire from Russians mercilessly targeting the Philharmonic, universities and student residences, museums and art and cultural centres. Russia’s perception of Kharkiv is deeply misguided. The people of Kharkiv, although predominantly Russian-speaking, remain fundamentally Ukrainian, and these assaults on the city by Russian forces will only drive them further and durably away from Russia and all it represents.

Donetsk: A Russian region?

The eastern part of Ukrainian territory – Donetsk and Luhansk – has long been considered unshakeably close to Russia, sometimes even actually Russian. The Kremlin's stranglehold over this part of the country since 2014 seemed natural to some, as Russian is the majority language in the region. Pro-Russian separatism has long been artificially ignited and fuelled by Russia: first with the massive support of the industrial oligarchs, then through direct Russian intervention in reaction to the open desire of the Ukrainian people to opt for European and transatlantic alliances.

However, pro-Russian separatism remains artificial. Indeed, when Ukraine declared its independence in 1991, the whole of this region welcomed the move with open arms. Admittedly, there were pro-Russian influences at work in political, industrial, and economic circles, but there was no doubt the region was part of Ukraine.

The region’s special bond with Russia goes back to the 1930’s and the post-World War II period. The interwar period was marked by several events, the revolutions, civil war and terror regimes of the time inevitably further complicating the situation. On this point, there are two consecutive historical moments that immediately spring to mind.

In 1917, the Donbass region played an active part in the emergence of the Ukrainian People's Republic, which lay at the heart of Ukraine’s proclamation of independence in 1918 at the end of the First World War, following the collapse of empires and the emergence of national independence movements in Central and Eastern Europe. The drive for independence continued and intensified, and Donbass was the region that held out longest against the advancing Bolsheviks (1922). Once absorbed into the USSR, Donbass was subjected to successive waves of ‘purification’: systematic elimination of the Cossacks living in the regions of the Don and Kuban (1919-1921), intense Russification (1932-1933) helped by the Great Famine (Golodomor), and finally waves of terror directed against the intellectual elite. At a trial in Moscow from May to July 1928, 53 Ukrainian engineers from the Donbass were accused of being anti-Russian and charged with contravening official policy. Repression against the different elites intensified. Stripped of its essence, the Donbass could only bow to central government and adopt… a pro-Russian stance.

A new factor then emerged that prompted a new movement of rapprochement with Russia, namely Donbass’s patriotism and pride in the rebirth of the great empire. This nostalgia for Soviet history is still felt by the older generations in Donetsk and Luhansk. It is a sentiment that came into being after World War II and during the period when the Soviet Union was doing its utmost to recover its former glory. At the time, Stalin wanted to exploit the region’s vast natural resources and use its wealth for large-scale Soviet industrial development. Job offers flourished, attracting many Russians desperate to escape from famine and the ravages of war and keen to take advantage of the new prospects offered by Ukraine. The Soviet Union offered the population jobs, wages and the chance to be part of the victorious pleasure of rebuilding the country via the Donbass region. The films and writings of the time endlessly glorified the ‘factory of the future’ that the region now represented for the entire USSR.

Today, physical closeness to Russia and nostalgia for the Soviet era go hand-in-hand. When Russian separatists proclaim the birth of the People's Republic of Donetsk or Luhansk, references to the region's centuries-old history are not far behind. Historical references abound to justify the existence of these ‘independent republics‘. But these are often either no more than empty words or skilful manipulation. In truth, the younger generation and the local (academic and industrial) elite now make no secret of their strong opposition to these pro-Russian projects in the Donbass. The people's attachment to the Ukrainian nation and their desire to break free of the manipulations to which they have been too long subjected are patently obvious from Ukrainian resistance in the region.

Ultimately, the failure of Russia's ‘special military operation’ – in reality, a plan to invade and conquer Ukraine in a matter of days – is a tragic illustration of its complete lack of understanding of the history and people of this region.

Nathalie de Kaniv, March 2022

Article translated into English by students at ISIT Paris, and proofread by Christine Cross (EuroDéfense-France Council member).