Ukraine |
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Ukraine
is a country still searching for an independent identity. So far, it has not succeeded
in developing a state-building blueprint able to harmonize incongruous points
of view. Indeed, throughout the post-Soviet era, disparate cultural and political
traditions have pulled the country in opposite directions, undermining efforts
to forge a cohesive and prosperous state. The tumult of independence has disillusioned
some citizens and left others feeling alienated. Pervasive popular disappointment
only complicates fresh attempts to forge consensus on development. And as Ukraine
ponders sovereignty in the new millennium, state-building challenges are growing
increasingly complex, primarily because opinions appear to be hardening on key
issues.
State-building differences are broadly aligned with Ukraine's prevailing
geographic/demographic divisions. Ethnic Russians, as well as Russified Ukrainians,
dominate the industrialized eastern regions. Meanwhile, ethnic Ukrainians comprise
a significant majority in the western areas of the country. Kyiv, the capital,
is caught in the middle, and is the principle battleground for the competing agendas.
Ethnic Ukrainians currently control national political and educational institutions,
and therefore have the upper hand in state-building activities. But ethnic Russians
in the eastern regions, especially in Dniepropetrovsk, have significant influence
over the country's financial infrastructure, and thus are a voice that cannot
be ignored in the state-building endeavor.
As in other newly independent states,
linguistic and educational policies have served as frequent sources of controversy
in Ukraine. The Soviet Union crumbled in 1991 amidst an avalanche of cultural-revival
aspirations expressed by titular nationalities in the empire's constituent republics.
In Ukraine's case, the post-1991 political leadership sought to upend the old
Soviet order, and re-establish a distinct Ukrainian cultural identity, creating
the foundation for state building. Ukrainian eclipsed Russian as the state language,
even though a large percentage, perhaps even a majority, of the population did
not have good command of the language. In a corresponding fashion, educational
policy took on a more Ukrainian character.
Linguistic and educational policies
that aim to promote a Ukrainian cultural revival have succeeded only in fueling
discontent among the country's Russian minority. Ethnic Russians characterize
post-Soviet order as the forced "Ukrainiazation" of the entire country, including
the traditionally Russia-oriented east. Ukrainian nationalists in the west are
dismissive of such complaints, pointing to the nation's historical experience
of more than three centuries of domination by neighboring Russia. They say existing
policies are intended to promote a distinct state identity, and deny claims that
they are discriminatory.
The outcome of ongoing debates in Ukraine has important
implications not only for the country's future, but also for Europe. Ukraine is
the largest of the post-Soviet countries after Russia, and it can potentially
act as a lynchpin in the development of all former Soviet republics. In addition,
Ukraine figures greatly in the political and economic evolution of Central Europe
as a region. A stable, prosperous and inclusive society in Ukraine would radiate
security to all its neighbors.
Given existing difficulties, Ukraine's ability
to fulfill its potential as a stabilizing regional influence will require a considerable
consensus-building effort. Internal development will have to be well managed and
inclusive. However, existing state-building moulds have revealed defects. Current
policies should be reexamined and perhaps be modified before opinions solidify
and lose all traces of flexibility. A reluctance to re-examine current policies
might invite confrontation. Recent history is replete with unlikely outcomes,
and while the prospect of upheaval in Ukraine might seem remote, a prudent approach
is warranted.
Background
Ukraine
is a unitary state in its political character, but it does not possess a monolithic
ethnic identity. The country is a presidential republic with decision-making power
concentrated in Kyiv. Officials in Ukraine's 24 administrative regions, or oblasts,
act more as implementers than as architects of policy. Crimea is the only region
that enjoys limited autonomy, having its own constitution and legislature, both
acting within a constricted framework established by national authorities. Ukraine's
overall population of just more than 50 million is comprised of roughly 73 percent
ethnic Ukrainians and about 22 percent ethnic Russians, while other nationalities,
such as the 260,000-strong Crimean Tatar community, comprising the remainder.
An important anomaly occurs in language use, however. Russian is the native
tongue of roughly 55 percent of the country's inhabitants. That would indicate
that about 42 percent of ethnic Ukrainians are Russian speakers. In general terms,
Ukrainian is widely used in Western Ukraine, while eastern Ukraine is a bastion
of Russian language use. Rural residents have a greater tendency to be Ukrainian
speakers, while Russian speakers predominate in urban areas. According to Vladimir
Malenkovich, a Kyiv-based political scientist, language usage in the capital is
about 70 percent Russian and 30 percent Ukrainian.
Ethnic Russians have always
been part of Ukraine's demographic landscape, settling centuries ago in the then-largely
uninhabited steppe and the Donbas coal region. "Russians in Ukraine are not newcomers,"
said Andrei Veselovsky, a Ukrainian Foreign Ministry official. Representatives
of the Russian community assert that Russians and the Russian language are deserving
of recognition as being indigenous to Ukraine. "There are entire regions that
are essentially Russian in character, where Ukrainians were never in the majority,"
said Grigory Popov, a member of the Supreme Rada, or Ukrainian Parliament, representing
a constituency in the southeastern city of Donetsk.
Ukrainian and Russian
are both Slavic languages with enough commonality that it is possible for a Russian
speaker to be understood by a Ukrainian and vice versa. But according to Viktor
Brytsyn, the deputy director of the Department of Socio-Language Issues at the
Kyiv Institute for Language, Ukrainian and Russian are "two very distinct languages
with different intonations and characteristics. Ukrainian differs from Russian
just as much as Polish differs from Russian."
The tangle of two languages and
demographics underscore the intricacies of Ukrainian state building. The country's
historical relationship with Russia compounds the complexities. What is now territorially
the heart of Ukrainian statehood, Kyiv, served centuries ago as the cradle of
Russian culture. Kievan Rus was the first Slavic empire to flourish, acting as
one of the world's major powers between the 9th and 13th centuries. The Russian
Empire, and by extension the Soviet Union, can be considered the historical progeny
of Kievan Rus.
As far as modern Ukraine is concerned, the nation is a novice
at statehood. Prior to independence 1991, Russia governed Ukraine for almost three
and a half centuries. During this period, Russian tsars and Soviet general secretaries
acted to repress a separate Ukrainian cultural identity. Ukrainians were subjected
to intense Russification policies. And Russians came to view Ukrainians as "little
brothers." Vsevolod Tkachenko, head of the Department of National Minorities of
the Ukrainian Foreign Ministry, said: "Ukraine was treated as nothing more than
a colony of the Russian Empire."
Two key regions in present day Ukraine, however,
are general exceptions to the Russification rule in Ukraine. One is the Crimean
peninsula, which was captured from Turkey in the late 18th century and remained
under Moscow's control. After World War II, Soviet authorities resettled the peninsula
primarily with ethnic Russians. During the Soviet era, the Crimea was territorially
part of Russia until transferred to Ukrainian jurisdiction in 1954, in honor of
Ukraine's 300th anniversary of incorporation into the Russian Empire. The other
exception is area now comprising the western Ukrainian provinces, which were historically
part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and thus did not feel the full force of Russification.
Soviet influence in western Ukraine extends back only to the aftermath of World
War II.
Ukraine dallied with independence on several occasions, straining
the Kyiv-Moscow relationship. The first occurred in 1918, amidst the disintegration
of the Russian Empire, and set against the backdrop of the First World War. Ukrainian
independence proved too fragile to survive long; the fledgling state successfully
withstood German and Polish subjugation attempts only to finally succumb to the
Bolshevik Red Army in 1921. Freedom fighters were also active during World War
II. Various Ukrainian nationalist factions fought both Nazis and Communists in
the ill-fated bid for independence.
The hostility generated by recent history
continues to color perceptions in Ukraine today. Valery Meshcheriakov, the vice-governor
of the Kharkiv region, asserted that the country has yet to recover fully from
its World War II experience. "What went on during the war was effectively a civil
war within a larger war," Meshcheriakov said. "Civil wars whip up deep feelings
of antagonism, causing wounds that take a very long time to heal. Indeed, how
long did it take the United States to recover fully from its civil war?"
Ukrainian
officials confirm that past experience influences the present. "We are a country
blessed with good land, some of the best black earth in the world. Unfortunately,
we were not blessed with good neighbors," said the Ukrainian Foreign Ministry's
Tkachenko, referring to Russia. "Our neighbors have always envied us."
Ukrainian
sensitivities are heightened by the country's continued economic dependence on
Russia. Initial euphoria in 1991 greeted the re-establishment of independence.
Both ethnic Ukrainians and Russians strongly supported independence, according
to the results of a 1991 referendum. In subsequent years, though, economic hardships
have fostered a profound sense of disillusionment. Now Ukrainian sovereignty is
most associated with a dramatic decline of living standards. "An independent Ukraine
has brought us only hunger, cold, and poverty," said Vladimir Rashevsky, the chief
agronomist on the Kirovsky Farm outside of Dniepropetrovsk.
Some Russian-community
advocates assert that many Russians now regret their initial support for Ukrainian
statehood. "It is a fact that many Russians supported independence," said Malenkovich,
the political scientist. "They hoped that they would be able to enjoy better living
standards than in Russia.
"But at the same time, people [especially ethnic
Russians] did not understand entirely the concept of independence," Malenkovich
continued. "Everyone in the former Soviet Union is used to automatically saying
yes to whatever question that was put to them by officials. They are afraid to
say no."
Ukraine-Russia Relations
Since
1991, Ukraine's efforts to establish an independent profile in the international
arena have concentrated on breaking free of Russia's gravitational pull. Russia
has not welcomed Kyiv's desire to become an independent geopolitical actor, and
has persistently pressured Ukraine to retain its orientation towards the former
Soviet states.
The current Ukrainian leadership has made no secret of its desire
to distance its country from Russia. Now that Ukrainian nationalists have at long
last realized their ambition of independence, their greatest single concern is
perhaps geopolitical abandonment by the West. Foreign Minister Boris Tarasyuk
has repeatedly stressed that a top priority for Ukraine is integration into Western
European and "Euro-Atlantic" structures, in particular the European Union. "Ukraine
is an inseparable part of the European community," Tarasyuk said during a visit
to the United States in April 1998. "We do not consider ourselves as belonging
to Eurasia. We believe ourselves to belong to Central and Eastern Europe."
Tarasyuk
and other officials have also stated that Ukraine desires to maintain friendly
relations with Russia. Nevertheless, since 1991 Ukraine has significantly strengthened
ties with neighboring Poland, which has had an historically antagonistic relationship
with Russia. The Ukrainian-Polish relationship is useful for both states. Ukraine
provides Poland with a buffer from Russia, while Kyiv can utilize Warsaw as a
corridor for European integration. "We are able to find common ground with Poland,"
said Tkachenko, the Foreign Ministry department head. The two countries maintain
a relatively open border. "Ukraine needs this as a balance [to Russia]," said
Ihor Ostash, an MP who sits on the parliamentary Committee for Foreign Affairs.
It is important for Ukraine to have windows, or even a door, to the West, and
Poland is therefore an important state."
Although Kyiv's intentions are clear,
the country's capacity to act independently of Moscow is limited, due in large
part to Ukraine's economic dependency on Russia. For example, Ukraine relies on
Russia for nearly all of its natural gas and oil supplies. In addition, 38 percent
of Ukraine's foreign trade is with Russia, according to official Ukrainian statistics.
Ukrainian officials chaffed under the constraints imposed by its economic relationship
with Russia. "It is no secret that we are considerably dependent on Russia," Tarasyuk
said. "That is why we are trying to create alternate [energy] routes."
Russia,
utilizing its economic and political leverage, has consistently moved diplomatically
to restrain Ukraine's centrifugal impulses. Moscow has at times been blatant in
its attempts to bully Ukraine into joining the so-called Slavic union, an amorphous
arrangement that presently binds Belarus to Russia. From the standpoint of national
security, Russia has been loath to let Ukraine escape its sphere of influence,
as it considers Kyiv to be an important barrier against Western incursion. From
the cultural point of view, Russian officials do not seem to share the opinion
about the clear distinction between Russian and Ukrainian cultural traditions.
In
formulating its views, Moscow could draw on the support of a significant element
of the Russian community in Ukraine. "We think Russians and Ukrainians are essentially
the same ethnos and there is no reason to differentiate among them," said Aleksander
Basilyuk, the head of the Congress of Russian Organizations in Ukraine. "The state-building
process in Ukraine consists of pure mythification. The Ukrainian state per se
never existed [before 1991]."
Ukrainian leaders bristle over what they perceived
as Moscow's disdain for Ukrainian independence. Prominent Russian political figures,
including presidential aspirants Yuri Luzhkov and Alexander Lebed, have repeatedly
called into question the legitimacy of Ukrainian control of the Crimean peninsula,
especially the Black Sea Fleet base at Sevastopol. Luzhkov and others have also
impugned the constitutionality of a friendship treaty between Ukraine and Russia,
suggesting the pact improperly recognizes Kyiv's sovereignty over Crimea. "It
is a fact that Ukraine is independent, and they [Russian officials] must take
this into account," Tkachenko said. "The old mentality remains and this sometimes
creates problems.… It is sometimes difficult for them [Russians] to appreciate
the national desires of Ukrainians."
Several top officials vowed that Ukraine
would never join in any formal political organization of Slavic states, and would
vigorously resist Russia's "older brother" behavior. "As long as [Ukraine's] economic
situation is in such disarray, they [Russian officials] will always regard us
as little brothers," said Les Taniuk, an MP representing the Rukh nationalist
movement.
Taniuk and others said Ukraine is in a vulnerable position vis-à-vis
Russia. Their chief concern is that Ukraine could become embroiled in Russia's
domestic upheaval, brought on by the economic collapse of August 1998, combined
with the uncertainty hovering over the succession to President Boris Yeltsin.
"Where there is internal trouble [as in Russia], there exists the desire to find
external enemies," Taniuk said. "What occurs in Moscow, of course influences Ukraine's
internal developments.
"What emanates now from Russia can only be described
as cultural mediocrity," Taniuk continued. "To a certain extent, Ukraine is trying
to defend itself against this cultural degradation."
At the dawn of the 21st
century Ukraine finds it increasingly difficult to keep its westward options open.
One quandary confronting Kyiv is the issue of the Ukrainian-Russian border. In
1999, a chain of circumstances placed pressure on Ukrainian officials to tighten
controls at the Russian border.
The source of the Ukrainian dilemma is indirectly
related to the European Union (EU) push to incorporate formerly communist states
in Central Europe. Given the EU's liberalized regime on internal movement and
trade, member states are required to tightly control external borders in order
to combat unauthorized migration and trafficking. Aspiring member states in Central
Europe, including Poland, therefore have to demonstrate that their border procedures
meet EU standards before their membership bids could be acted upon. At the same
time, Poland is intent on maintaining its loose border regime with Ukraine, but
to do so requires Ukraine's cooperation. Poland requires that Ukraine's frontier
with Russia be effectively sealed and well-regulated.
How Ukraine finesses
the border issue perhaps will play a vital role in its development. Ukrainian
officials have expressed a desire to comply with Polish conditions, but it is
unclear whether Kyiv could implement the necessary changes. For one, Ukraine lacks
the money to finance border-control improvements. It is also debatable whether
Ukrainian Foreign Ministry officials possess the political clout to realize their
vision. "We want to control the border [with Russia]. But that does not mean we
must have a border with barbed wire," Tarasyuk said. "We need a modern border
that will help reduce illegal migration, as well as drug trafficking and arms
trafficking." Upgrading Ukraine's border with Russia would surely draw Moscow's
full wrath, as well as stir internal discontent by alienating and aggravating
the Russian community in Ukraine. The high costs involved may make the border
issue a political non-starter in the legislature.
Economic Woes
Ukraine's economy
in 1999 remained in horrendous condition, constrained by outdated infrastructure
and inefficient management. There are few reasons to hope that a significant economic
upturn could occur in the foreseeable future. Amidst this fetid economic atmosphere,
social discontent has festered since Ukraine's declaration of independence. Economic
woes, and their ancillary social consequences, have thus greatly compounded state-building
difficulties.
"As long as our economic situation remains difficult, Russia
will persist in regarding us as 'little brothers,'" said MP Les Taniuk.
The
depression also hinders efforts to forge a united, bilingual political community.
Political scientists speculate that Russian speakers would be more amenable to
learning Ukrainian if economic conditions were more favorable. "The economy is
the top concern of most people," said Yaroslav Pylynskyj. "Under the current conditions,
people are forced to be self-reliant and the matter of survival occupies their
attention."
On the surface, Ukraine appears to be muddling along with economic
reforms. Government targets in 1999 aimed to achieve modest economic growth with
relatively low inflation. Underlying factors, however, reveal Ukraine's economic
landscape to be, for the most part, fallow.
Privatization, the chief vehicle
for reform, has sputtered. Statistics covering the first half of 1998 indicate
that privatization revenue reached only about 50 percent of projected levels.
Political wrangling exacerbated the challenges, as Ukraine's legislative and executive
branch wrestled for primacy over the privatization process. For example, Parliament
rejected in February 1999 a proposal to privatize 455 large- and medium-scale
enterprises, along with 5,500 smaller firms. President Leonid Kuchma vowed to
press on, however, striving to realize his privatization goals via the use of
presidential fiat. In addition to the privatization fiasco, the country suffers
from frequent and debilitating power outages. Rural areas were particularly hard
hit, causing significant disruption to agricultural production. The crisis forced
Kuchma to sack Energy Minister Oleksiy Shebertstov in February.
The average
monthly wage in 1999 was estimated at about $90. However, large numbers of workers,
in both industrial and agricultural state sectors, suffered long delays in salary
payments. Wage arrears of more than several months is not an uncommon phenomenon.
Payment delays prompted large protests, especially among workers in the coal-mining
sector. In early 1999, employees of at least 78 Ukrainian mines threatened to
initiate mass acts of civil disobedience if the government did not address the
wage arrears issue.
Financially, the country is in desperate shape. Ukraine's
hard currency reserves in early 1999 stood at $685.5 million, marking more than
a 20 percent decline in only a one-month period. In early 1998, Ukraine had hard
currency reserves of more than $2.3 billion. The cash crunch is fueled in part
by pervasive tax evasion. Officials estimate that taxpayers owe the state more
than $3 billion. The cash crunch forced authorities to effectively devalue the
Ukrainian currency, the hryvna, by allowing the trading band to slip to between
3.4 hryvna and 4.6 hrivna to one U.S. dollar. To a certain extent, Ukraine's financial
turmoil is a byproduct of Russia's banking-sector meltdown in the second half
of 1998. For instance, the currency crisis in Moscow forced Ukraine's National
Bank to sell much of its hard currency reserves during the second half of 1998
to support the embattled hryvna. "Russia's crisis has an indirect impact on the
situation in our country," Tarasyuk said.
Chapter Two
The Materials for State Building
Language Policy
The touchstone
of controversy in independent Ukraine has been language-related legislation and
normative acts, including laws that have impacted education and the media. Unlike
in other states that emerged out of the former Soviet Union-in particular the
Baltic republics of Estonia and Latvia-citizenship issues have not been a source
of discontent in Ukraine. All legal residents at the time of independence had
the ability to obtain Ukrainian citizenship.
Language, education, and media
laws have prompted considerable debate in part because they represent a substantial
departure from the status quo. Before 1991, when Ukraine was a union republic,
the Russian language predominated at all levels-in government, public life, and
the educational sphere. The Soviet collapse produced linguistic upheaval. Post-1991
legislation terminated the primacy of Russian and promoted a renaissance of Ukrainian.
However, the law would appear to leave plenty of leeway for the use of Russian
in everyday life.
Ukraine's constitution recognizes the multiethnic character
of the state, while establishing Ukrainian as the sole state language. This means
all official communications and interaction with government officials, both oral
and written, should be in Ukrainian. Laws are also designed to promote greater
use of Ukrainian in education and the mass media. Dual citizenship is prohibited
under the constitution. The specific rights of ethnic minorities-concerning language,
education and cultural issues-are outlined in various laws.
The Law on National
Minorities outlines the rights and responsibilities of the Russian community in
Ukraine. Article 1 underscores the right of free cultural expression, stating:
"Ukraine guarantees equal, political, social, economic, and cultural rights and
freedoms to citizens of the republic, regardless of their national background,
and supports the development of self-consciousness and self expression."
The
law goes on to say that all national minorities, including Russians, have access
to "national cultural autonomy." The term is vague in granting ethnic minorities
the right to "the use of their native language," "development of national cultural
traditions," and "free expression of religious faith."
Perhaps the key to
the Law on National Minorities is found in Article 8, which holds out the possibility
for the recognition of Russian as a quasi-state language in some regions. Article
8 states: "In the work of the state organs, community associations, and [business]
enterprises, institutions and organizations that are located in areas where the
majority of the population is composed of an ethnic minority, the language of
said national minority can be used in addition to the state language." The majority
standard for ethnic minorities is important because few regions, even in eastern
Ukraine, are home to a majority of ethnic Russians, even though they may contain
an overwhelming number of Russian speakers. Just about the only region in which
Russians comprise a clear majority is the Crimea.
Additional laws govern the
role of Russian language and culture in Ukraine. For example, Article 3 of the
Declaration of the Rights of National Minorities, which was adopted in November,
1991, states: "The Ukrainian state guarantees all the peoples and national groups
the right of free usage of their native language in all spheres of social life,
including education, commerce, and the receiving and distribution of information."
The declaration goes on to explicitly recognize that citizens enjoy the "right
of free usage of the Russian language."
Meanwhile, Article 3 of the General
Regulations on the Law of Culture is clear that the state's top priority is "to
assist development of Ukrainian culture, as well as the cultures of national minorities."
Article 8, in guaranteeing equal rights for national minorities in the sphere
of culture, states that all citizens, regardless of nationality, have the right
to "preserve, develop, and propagandize their culture, language, traditions, customs,
and rites, and to establish national and cultural associations."
In the realm
of mass media and information, the General Principles of Ukraine's Law on Television
and Radio established Ukrainian to be the primary language of broadcast transmission,
while providing for the use of national minority languages. Article 9 states "Transmission
in certain regions can be conducted also in the languages of national minorities
that are settled compactly within the region."
The Motivation Behind Legislation
Ukrainian
officials defend the current legislative framework, saying it is designed to guarantee
the survival of Ukrainian culture, which many tend to equate with independence.
There is widespread concern in official circles, and among the ethnic Ukrainian
intelligentsia, that Ukrainian traditions remain endangered by Russian cultural
hegemony. "Some 350 years of Russification left the Ukrainian language in a precarious
position," said Tetiana Klinchenko of the Institute for Political and Sociological
Studies in Kyiv. "Russia would like everyone to believe that Ukraine was being
integrated naturally, but this was not the case. They [Russians] resorted to forceful
integration measures."
Perhaps the greatest worry among those in intellectual
and government circles is that Ukraine might follow the example of Belarus, where
separate cultural traditions have been overwhelmed by Russian. As a result, the
Belarussian language has become virtually extinct. Belarussian statehood also
seemed tenuous. "Ukrainians never had their own state before…and people
feel that if they lose their language, then they will lose their independence,"
Klinchenko. "We want to avoid the example set by Belarus."
Officials insist
that their attitudes are based on the recognition that Ukraine is not ethnically
homogenous. "We cannot ignore the polyethnic character of the state," said Tkachenko,
the Foreign Ministry official responsible for national minority affairs. "The
state has an obligation to provide conditions that allow them [Russians] to preserve
their cultural heritage. But we must not forget that they [Russians] comprise
a national minority within the Ukrainian state." Les Taniuk, the MP representing
the Rukh nationalist movement, said the overwhelming majority of Ukrainians are
tolerant of Russians and Russian cultural influences. "Ukraine for Ukrainians
is a concept that appeals to only a very small sector of society," he said.
The
chief intent of the laws, officials and intellectuals said, is not to promote
the "Ukrainiazation" of ethnic Russians, but to help Russian-speaking Ukrainians
re-discover their roots. Viktor Boiko, a writer and the deputy director of the
Kharkiv branch of the Ukrainian Culture Fund, described ethnic Ukrainians as deeply
divided. Those living in western Ukraine, Boiko said, tend to speak Ukrainian
and are better acquainted with their cultural heritage. However, millions of ethnic
Ukrainians, living primarily in eastern Ukraine, had lost touch with traditions,
Boiko said. He described these Ukrainians as "little Russians," whose cultural
orientation is aligned towards Moscow, not Kyiv. "These people are thoroughly
Russified. They cannot speak Ukrainian," he said.
In the view of some officials
and intellectuals, ultimate success in preserving a separate Ukrainian identity
against Russian cultural domination hinges on reorienting the "little Russian"
Ukrainians. Language usage perhaps serves as the best gauge of cultural orientation,
and thus is an important concern to many officials. "The ideal situation would
be one in which the use of language corresponded to the demographics," said Mykola
Abrayimov, head of the Department of Nationality Affairs and Migration of the
Dniepropetrovsk Regional Administration. Dniepropetrovsk is an industrial city
in eastern Ukraine with a population that is technically 72 percent ethnic Ukrainian,
but where the Russian language dominates.
Abrayimov and others stressed that
change must occur gradually. "This is a long-term process. The language issue
is something that could produce conflict, so we cannot be in a hurry," Abrayimov
said. "Certain bureaucrats can be overzealous. But, in general, the state is moving
in the right direction."
An ancillary purpose of the laws is to promote bilingualism
among ethnic Russians in eastern Ukraine. The situation in 1999 was such that
someone speaking Ukrainian in the eastern part of the country, or in the Crimea,
could not expect to be answered in Ukrainian. "It is not convenient to speak Ukrainian
in some parts Ukraine," Boiko said. "Many do not have the ability to speak Ukrainian."
Expanding the reach of the state language would require patient and persistent
action, some officials said. "We must be constantly vigilant," Tkachenko said.
The Russian Reaction
Ethnic
Russians generally have reacted with suspicion and hostility to changes in language,
education, and media laws. Many leading representatives of the Russian community
in Ukraine portray the legal framework as discriminatory. Others describe language
laws as a collective act of revenge, destined to do more harm than good to state-building
efforts.
"Ukrainians are trying to do to Russians what Russians attempted to
do to Ukrainians during the Soviet era," said Malenkovich the Kyiv-based political
scientist. "Everyone must remember, however, that two wrongs do not make one right."
Dmitry
Kornilov, a newspaper editor in the coal-mining center of Donetsk, asserted that
the government's language policy is indicative of widespread human rights abuses
suffered by Russians in eastern Ukraine. "Language legislation is tantamount to
the humiliation of our social dignity."
A few said the current government policy
made no sense on a practical level. "It makes no sense when virtually an entire
city is populated by Russian speakers, but when the people must deal with authorities
they must speak in Ukrainian," said Arnold Guggel a political scientist from Kharkiv.
"The very idea of having a state language is anti-democratic."
Many Russians
have difficulty defining precisely how the law constitutes discrimination. They
tend to express concern over potential future rights abuses rather than cite specific
present-day violations. "There may be a situation where people may be fined for
using Russian," said Vladimir Alekseev, a Russian member of Parliament representing
Kharkiv. "People should be allowed to make up their own mind."
Vil Bekirov,
a political scientist at Kharkiv State University, intimated that the lightning-quick
pace of change is responsible for fostering a notion among Russians that they
have been reduced to second-class citizens. "Although Russians can freely speak
in their native tongue, they nevertheless feel uncomfortable," Bekirov said. "Ukrainian
is emphasized to the extent that those who do not speak it feel, in some way,
deprived. It has developed into a source of discomfort."
Russian-community
leaders assail the official orthodoxy, suggesting that Ukrainian expressions of
concern over cultural survival are insincere. Language policies, according to
Russian leaders, are instruments designed specifically to provide Ukrainians with
political advantages in the state-building process. The constitutional recognition
of only one state language-Ukrainian-effectively shuts large numbers of Russians
out of the political process, they said.
"Incumbent authorities [in the central
government] are merely seeking to utilize language in defending themselves against
challenges to their power," Alekseev said. "Existing attitudes are a reflection
that the concept of civil society is not well developed. Authorities are more
interested in defending their own interests than in defending civil rights in
general. They have moved away from ideology and embraced ethnic politics."
Several
leaders of the Russian community portray Ukraine as standing at an important crossroads
in the state-building process, in which the language issue could emerge as a source
of confrontation or help promote stability. The continuation of existing language-related
policies is fraught with possible harmful consequences, Russians suggest. "The
path that we are on strengthens the conditions for confrontation," Alekseev said.
"Our
society here [in Ukraine] vis-à-vis language is a situation such as that in
Canada or Belgium, which are essentially bilingual states," Alekseev said. Political
developments must correspond to the nature of society, he added. Ukraine could
follow one of three possible state-building models; Czechoslovakia, which amicably
split into two countries; Canada and Belgium, which both have constitutional arrangements
that reflect the bilingual nature of those states; or Bosnia and Herzegovina,
which represents the inability of different ethnic groups to reconcile differences.
"We must assure that the Canadian/Belgian variant is pursued," Alekseev said.
For
Ukraine to get back on track towards realization of the Canada/Belgian variant,
Russian-community leaders are unanimous in calling for the recognition of the
Russian language as an official state language. "Russian must be recognized as
a state language for the consolidation of Ukraine as a state to occur," said Grigory
Popov, the MP from Donetsk. "In regions where the majority are Russian speakers,
the recognition of Russian [as a state language] would solve many problems.…
Of course, in these regions, it is important that all those wishing to study Ukrainian
have the opportunity to do so."
Ukrainian Rebuttal
Most Ukrainian
decision-makers and opinion-shapers are resolutely opposed to recognition of Russian
as a state language. They reason that sufficient safeguards are already in place
to protect the Russian language. In addition, they point out that most members
of the Ukrainian community are conversant in Russian, due to the Soviet-era Russification
policies. They add that bilingualism as defined by Russian-community leaders implies
that there would be no need to learn Ukrainian.
"Some Russians are merely looking
for an excuse not to learn Ukrainian," Boiko said. "If one is a citizen, one should
fulfill certain responsibilities, including acquiring at least some knowledge
of the state language. Recognition of Russian would provide Russians with an easy
exit from assuming their responsibilities.
"When they were in the dominant
position they expected to be treated in a certain way," Boiko continued. "Now
that they are no longer in charge they nonetheless still expect to retain their
privileged position."
Ukrainian leaders categorically dismiss the Russian assertion
that language-related laws are discriminatory. Many Ukrainians say such criticism
is the product of frustration generated by current economic circumstances. "Claims
of discrimination are derived from nostalgia - the way Russians see their current
situation compared with the past," said Viktor Brytsyn, of the Kyiv Institute
for Languages. "Of course, Russians face a worse situation now than they did 10
years ago. But everyone does. Thus, you cannot describe this as discrimination.
This is purely a matter of psychological readjustment."
"Those that do not
know the [Ukrainian] language are disoriented by the changes and want to return
to the past," said Maria Oleinik, the head of the Taras Shevchenko Ukrainian Cultural
Organization branch office in Donetsk. "Many people are oriented towards the old
Soviet Union. In the old days everything was familiar and stable, and people felt
comfortable. Now, there is no way to predict the future. Russian [language] is
seen by these Soviet-oriented people as a link to that past."
A few interpret
calls for the recognition of Russian as a sign of disloyalty to Ukrainian independence.
"The use of Russian can be considered a sign of disrespect for the state," Klinchenko
said.
Implementation of Legislation
On
the practical level, language laws have had little visible impact on daily life
for Russian speakers in Ukraine. Kyiv's reach appears limited in scope. Legislation
exists mainly on paper, and is not being implemented in practice. Especially in
eastern Ukraine, the Russian language remains deeply entrenched as the language
of commerce and of entertainment. The predominance of Russian on the streets of
most major Ukrainian cities, with the exception of Lviv, undermines Russian claims
of discrimination. "It is impossible to describe the legislative process in the
country as 'Ukrainianization' if for no other reason other than nobody is fulfilling
the [language] laws," said MP Les Taniuk.
Past experience presents formidable
obstacles to the implementation of legislation. The fickle nature of tsarist-era
absolutism, coupled with the arbitrariness of the Soviet system, takes a toll
on the rule of law in contemporary Ukrainian society. "Disrespect for the law
is almost a national tradition," said Klinchenko. "In the eyes of many people,
the government is the enemy. This is an impression that extends back even before
the Soviet times. It is such that avoiding the payment of taxes is considered
the norm. People are used to living with a double standard."
Changes in Education
Just
because laws have not functioned as intended does not mean that there have not
been considerable changes in several important spheres, in particular education.
The government has moved vigorously to expand programs that promote Ukrainian-language
learning. "The battle for schools is the battle for the future," said Klinchenko.
During
the Soviet era, citizens had the ability to obtain education in either Ukrainian
or Russian. However, the emphasis was plainly on Russian. Most Ukrainian language
schools were found in rural agricultural regions. Access to Ukrainian schools
was limited in most large cities, especially in eastern regions of the then-Soviet
republic, in part because a Ukrainian-language education was widely perceived
as a handicap in the search for career opportunities.
Since independence,
a significant shift in emphasis has occurred away from Russian towards Ukrainian.
Correspondingly, officials have been reorienting schools, with Ukrainian replacing
Russian as the primary language of instruction. In the sphere of higher education,
meanwhile, a similar process has been underway. University professors, who once
taught mostly in Russian, are now expected to deliver their lectures in Ukrainian.
Despite
the new emphasis on Ukrainian as the preferred language of instruction, Education
Ministry officials stress that a Russian-language grade-school education is widely
available for those who want it. "Being that Russians account for about one-fifth
of the population, it is in everyone's best interest that they feel comfortable,"
said Viktor Ognevjuk, the head of the Department of Secondary Education of the
Ukrainian Ministry of Education. "They [Russians] should also understand that
during Soviet times all Ukrainians were forced to speak and learn Russian.
"Perhaps a Russian-language education
is not as accessible as it was in the past, but it is available. Whereas a Russian
school might have been around the corner, now it may be a bit farther away," Ognevjuk
continued. "You in no way can describe the education policies as discriminatory,
or as 'Ukrainianization.' We spend a considerable amount of scarce resources on
Russian language instruction.… If anything, it is still possible for Ukrainians
to claim discrimination in some parts of our country. In Crimea, for example,
it remains extremely difficult for Ukrainians to obtain study in their native
language."
Ognevjuk offered some statistics to support his assertions. Of the
country's approximately 6.8 million students, roughly 2.5 million, or 36 percent,
received a primarily Russian-language education in 1999. Approximately 23 percent
of Ukraine's 21,300 schools offered instruction primarily in Russian language
or were dual-language in orientation, he said.
Reorienting the education system
presents ongoing difficulties, Ognevjuk adds, with most problems related to the
government's financial constraints. Schools are experiencing shortages of equipment
and teaching materials, including Ukrainian-language textbooks. Nevertheless,
increasing numbers of Russian-speaking parents are sending their children to Ukrainian
schools. "Parents understand the situation. They want to ensure that their children
have the widest possible number of career paths open to them, including the public
sector," he said.
In general the curriculum does not vary drastically between
Ukrainian and Russian schools. Students in Ukrainian schools receive several hours
of Russian language instruction per week, and vice versa. One significant difference
in the curricula concerned the teaching of Russian literature. More specifically,
in Ukrainian schools students studied Russian literature within the context of
the general survey of foreign literature. In Russian schools, Russian literature
is offered as a separate subject.
Some leaders of the Russian community portray
educational policy as a calamitous development for the preservation of Russian
culture in Ukraine. "What they are doing with schools can be described as illegal,"
said Alekseev. "It should be up to the people in the local communities to decide
[on educational policy], but the center [Kyiv] makes all the decisions itself."
Russian-speaking students suffer from a dramatic decline in teaching standards,
Russian leaders argue. Several allege that Ukrainian schools are better equipped
than Russian schools. Others complain about the diminished stature of Russian
literature in the Ukrainian schools. "Ukrainianization is not working, but it
nonetheless has a bad impact," said Malenkovich, the Kyiv-based political scientist.
"Children are not exposed enough to Russian in order to write it well. Indeed
it is turning out that students are coming out of school without being able to
write well in either Russian or Ukrainian. Also, they are not studying our great
masters - Tolstoy and Pushkin - as much as they should. As a result, they are
losing something."
At the university level, students appear to adapt to language
reorientation faster than professors. "We are in Ukraine and Ukrainian is the
state language. To oppose instruction in Ukrainian does not make sense," said
Nikolai Karenko, a fifth-year student at Donetsk State University.
Meanwhile,
language has fueled a fierce debate among academics. Many professors complain
that the pace of change is too fast. Some have resisted teaching in Ukrainian
in large part because they do not have good command of the language. "We are just
not ready for it. If one is going to lecture in Ukrainian, it is necessary for
that person to be able to think in Ukrainian, but many professors think in Russian
and so this presents difficulties. Some students ask us to speak in Russian. All
the same we must all translate it," said Igor Menshikov, the head of the Philology
Department at Dniepropetrovsk State University. "We are not against the growing
influence of Ukrainian, but the changes should happen gradually."
Some academic
fields, such as history, suffer from a dearth of suitable texts and sources in
Ukrainian, posing hardships for scholars and students alike. "Many textbooks are
written in Russian, and the bulk of historical sources are located in Russia,"
said Valentin Ivanenko, the head of the History Department at Dniepropetrovsk
University. "It's difficult to study now because we do not have good access to
sources in Russia."
Alexander Dynges, a history professor at Donetsk University,
said that haste in the promotion of Ukrainian in higher education is causing excessive
upheaval. "There are many terms that exist only in English, and yet authorities
are trying to Ukrainianize all these terms," he said.
Some Russian-language
professors expressed concern about possible discrimination in the future based
on language. They worry that knowledge of Ukrainian might become a prerequisite,
either in fact or in law, for new academic appointments and promotions. They also
worry about other forms of discrimination, including better pay for Ukrainian-language
professors.
Media
Mass
media, given its opinion-shaping power, has been another locus in the language-policy
debate. The Russian language predominates in the most powerful forms of media-television
and radio. Roughly 70 percent of all broadcasts on television and radio are in
Russian, according to Petro Ovcharenko, of the State Committee for Nationalities
and Migration. In addition, there are 798 Russian-language periodicals, including
newspapers and magazines, printed in Ukraine. "The print run of Russian language
publications are higher than Ukrainian publications," said Vasyl Vasylashko, head
of the Department of Government Media at the Ministry of Information. Despite
the abundance and the accessibility of Russian-language news and information,
however, Russian leaders in Ukraine complain about official policy. They say efforts
to boost the Ukrainian content of programming provoke widespread discontent in
the Russian community.
"The political elite controls mass media and uses it
to paint negative pictures of Russians," said Malenkovich. "The media does not
promote discussion of the issues. This allows myths and rumors to take root and
problems to fester."
Government manipulation of taxation and registration procedures
pose severe hardships for private Russian-language mass media outlets, according
to some media executives. Registration documents are likely to be rejected if
not submitted in Ukrainian, they say, adding that taxation policy can be arbitrarily
enforced, and is designed to curtail free speech. Russian broadcasts are more
vulnerable to official interference than Ukrainian broadcasts because they tend
to be more critical of government policy, they suggest. "You can't televise what
you want," said Oleg Yukht, the general director of ATN, a popular Kharkiv-based
private television channel. "They [the government] can use licensing and tax inspectors
to exert pressure on any television station.
"Investors are also vulnerable,"
Yukht said. "If authorities do not like what our station is broadcasting, they
can send tax inspectors to the offices of our investors, who then exert pressure
on us."
Russians in Ukraine are also disgruntled by what they describe as government
efforts to limit accessibility to news and information originating from Russia
proper. Kornilov, the newspaper editor from Donetsk, says heavy taxation discourage
the distribution of Russia-published newspapers in Ukraine. Authorities have moved
to limit the broadcast reach of major Russian telecasts, including the Vremya
evening news program. "Russian broadcasts about developments in Ukraine are censored
by Ukrainian television," said Andrei Kapustin, a city councilor from Kharkiv
who is also a local newspaper editor.
Vasylashko and other government officials
in Kyiv, citing the statistics, insist that Russian complaints are unfounded.
"This cannot be described as a case of discrimination against Russians.…
Our country is still passing through the emotional stage.… People are experiencing
difficulty in making the transition to a market economy," Vasylashko said. "The
major problem is that the state lacks sufficient resources, and therefore some
people are going to be disappointed."
Yukht described the language environment
at his station as unnecessarily awkward in practice. "It's an absurd situation
in which all unofficial business is conducted in Russian and all official business
is done in Ukrainian," he said. As for language content, few broadcasters bother
to adhere to established regulations. "We should transmit 50 percent of programs,
according to our license, in Ukrainian, but we do not," Yukht said. "No one observes
the regulations."
He adds that most regional broadcasters, in maintaining mostly
Russian-language programming, are responding more to market forces in eastern
Ukraine than willfully disregarding the law. When ATN attempted to air Ukrainian-language
programming, the station experienced a precipitous decline in ratings, Yukht said.
Violating the letter of licensing regulations nevertheless places ATN and other
stations in a vulnerable position. "Just because authorities do not enforce the
regulations now does not mean that they will not in the future," Yukht said. "They
have the legal basis to punish us if they so choose."
Chapter Three
Conditions and Sources of Discontent
Migration Patterns
State-building-related
discontent among ethnic Russians thus far has not translated into significant
outward migration. Indeed, in the immediate aftermath of Ukraine's successful
independence bid, 1991-1992, the country experienced a net inflow of approximately
37,000 individuals, according to Russia's State Committee for Statistics. In subsequent
years, amidst economic tumult, roughly 225,000 Russians returned to their titular
motherland. But the number of returnees comprised a mere 2 percent of the overall
ethnic Russian population in Ukraine. Only Belarus has had a lower ratio of migration,
in terms of the percentages of ethnic Russians returning to Russia. Many experts,
citing the available statistics, say the primary motivational factors for Russian
return has been economic: Given the means, people naturally are attracted to a
location with the best prospects for comfortable living standards.
However,
especially when examining the former Soviet Union, the temptation should be resisted
to attempt derive future trends based on prior events. Developments throughout
the former Soviet Union have a proven ability to confound expectations. At present,
the scenario of a forced migration crisis in Ukraine would appear to be nothing
short of fantastic. Officials in Ukraine dismiss the notion of a large outflow
of Russians to Russia. Most experts and observers-both Russians and Ukrainians-concur,
saying such a scenario is highly unlikely. "Russians would leave only in the most
dire of circumstances," Malenkovich said.
Nevertheless, widespread feelings
of resentment are undeniably present in the Russian community in Ukraine. The
question that no one really knows the answer to is what is the depth of anger.
Popular attitudes, especially those that do not correspond to official positions,
often do not receive proper attention from the media, Russian experts suggest.
Thus, Russian resentment over state building in Ukraine may be deeper than believed.
"The temptation is to think that public opinion is the same as that of the political
elite, but there are big differences in the point of view of the elite and of
the masses," Malenkovich said. "There are also significant differences depending
on the geographic region." No matter how small the chances are for those feelings
to snowball, such anger can always serve as a major building bloc for confrontation,
which could inspire migration.
Festering Resentments and Fears
A
variety of state-building activities, especially implementation of language-related
policies, have the potential to dangerously antagonize the Russian community.
The sensitivity of the issues requires that the government proceed cautiously
with efforts to enhance the state's Ukrainian identity. The Russian community
places little trust in officialdom to protect individual rights. "We do not have
authorities who command respect," Malenkovich said.
One source of frustration,
according to Arnold Guggel, the Kharkiv-based political scientist, has been the
silence of the West. "The Western powers should speak out clearly for democratic
values," Guggel said. "From my perspective, however, the West maintains a double
standard. Western governments speak out about abuses when it is convenient for
them to do so, but they remain silent in cases when to speak out might contradict
their best geopolitical interests."
Russians are especially rattled by statements
made by some Ukrainian government officials on exploring closer cooperation with
the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. Such rhetoric, acting in combination with
the legislative emphasis on Ukrainian culture, generates concern among ethnic
Russians that they may be decoupled from their heritage. "Ukraine's potential
membership in NATO could instigate a situation in which Russians would leave the
country," Malenkovich said.
The government's policies are all the more galling
to Russians because the eastern industrial regions are the main suppliers for
the state's coffers. "Kharkiv and other eastern regions pay more taxes, this is
an indisputable fact," said Andrei Kapustin, the Kharkiv-based journalist. "The
east is more prosperous, and its economy is exploited in the form of taxation
to subsidize western Ukraine, and to support the state policies. It should come
as no surprise that this is a source of animosity."
Meshcheriakov, Kharkiv's
deputy governor, complains that eastern regions are treated unfairly by Ukrainian
officials in Kyiv. "We are suspected of being a Fifth Column of Moscow," he said.
"This is absurd."
Such resentment left unaddressed could possibly provoke interethnic
confrontation. Some Russians say that separatism, especially in Crimea, could
grow if Russian grievances are not addressed. Dynges, the professor from Donetsk,
said: "Separatism could arise, but it would need several preconditions. One, if
Russia manages to solve its economic and political problems faster than Ukraine,
and thus offers an enticing alternative, then those who are discontent may be
tempted to follow an adventuristic path. Second, such a movement would require
a chauvinistic and charismatic leader."
Currently, Russia does not serve as
an attractive alternative for Russians in Ukraine. Economically, Russia has been
far harder hit by the August 1998 economic crisis than Ukraine. In the realm of
politics, Russia also provides a largely unappealing state-building model. "The
Chechen War was a very sobering experience for Russians in Ukraine. They are rather
happy not to be under Moscow's direct control," said Yaroslav Pylynsky, the Kyiv
political analyst. "Russia has proven repeatedly not to be a such a responsible
state."
Meanwhile, Ukrainian officials and community leaders are also concerned.
They worry that Russian intransigence regarding the reluctance to learn Ukrainian
could leave future generations of Russians at a permanent disadvantage. "This
is a cultural time bomb," said Oleinik. "Local resistance in eastern regions to
learning Ukrainian creates the danger that thousands of people will be left to
live as second-class citizens because they are not conversant in the state language."
Conditions in Eastern Regions
Theory often diverges from practice. Thus, debate over language-related policies conducted on the official level is reflected in different manners on the streets of the various urban centers in eastern Ukraine. Each region has certain political, economic, and social specifics that ensure a distinct response to state-building issues. Broadly, there is dissatisfaction associated with the language-related changes since Ukrainian independence. But each region has its own concerns that could influence decisions and outcomes.
Kharkiv
Kharkiv
is the largest city in eastern Ukraine, with a population of over 1.6 million.
It is located just a few kilometers from the Russian border, and the Russian provincial
capital of Belgorod. The city enjoyed renown for having a high concentration of
buildings done in the style of Soviet constructivism, erected in the 1920s and
1930s. Much of the distinctive architecture was destroyed during World War II.
A center of higher learning, Kharkiv was briefly Ukraine's capital in the aftermath
of the Bolshevik revolution, sparking a rivalry with Kyiv that still simmers.
Linguistically, Russian dominates on the streets. In economic terms, the city
is oriented more towards commerce than industrial production. According to Kapustin,
the population is less discontent in Kharkiv than in other more industrially oriented
eastern regions because local small-scale entrepreneurial traders have been able
to adapt to the new economic environment faster than industrial behemoths.
Policies
promoting Ukrainian language and culture have so far not had a noticeable impact
on the city. According to Boiko, the Ukrainian NGO activist in Kharkiv, 20 out
of the city's 180 schools were primarily Ukrainian language in orientation in
1999. Local mass media is also dominated by Russian, with the only one out of
30 newspapers printed in Ukrainian. Nevertheless, Boiko and others say that Ukrainian
is slowly making inroads. For example, before Ukrainian independence there were
only two Ukrainian language schools in the city. "Ukrainian and Russian are coexisting
naturally and peacefully here," Boiko said.
Alexandra Zub, principal at the
city's preeminent Ukrainian-language school, Gymnasium #6, says that tolerance
levels among Russians are rising. "I have lived in Kharkiv for 28 years," she
said. "For a person to speak Ukrainian here 20 years ago would have meant creating
a scandal.… A lot has changed in recent years. There is less resistance
to Ukrainian influences. But, as far as the future goes, much will depend on the
economy."
Meshcheriakov says the city's traditional orientation towards Moscow
is shifting, as a growing number of residents realize that Kremlin officials are
not in a position to meet there basic economic needs. "Moscow's influence is already
felt less than that of Kyiv," he said. "In many ways Moscow does not understand
our problems." Meanwhile, Zub said that Moscow is no longer the primary higher-education
destination for Kharkiv's best and brightest young minds. "Patterns have changed.
Students are more likely to move on to a Ukrainian-language university. Obtaining
a higher degree in Russia no longer has many advantages," Zub said. "If our students
want to leave, they want to go to a university in the West, in the United States."
Despite
the gradual spread of Ukrainian influences, Kharkiv's primary orientation will
continue to be towards the Russian language. "For Kharkiv to become Ukrainian
in the linguistic sense is impossible," Kapustin said. Government officials expressed
hope that language-related policies would not become of a source of major tension.
Perhaps the most significant potential source of tension in Kharkiv concerns
the border with Russia. The city's economic livelihood is intertwined with Russia.
Entrepreneurs depend significantly on Russia, either as a source of raw materials
or, more often, a market for their products. Some unemployed Kharkiv residents
sustained themselves by selling vegetables, grown in small garden plots, across
the border. In addition, many residents had relatives in Russia. Since independence,
Ukraine and Russia have taken steps to establish international border crossing
procedures. At the main road connecting Kharkiv and Belgorod, for example, passing
through customs and passport control can now involve delays. Nevertheless, the
procedures do not appear to be burdensome.
Any move to tighten border-crossing
procedures, arising out of Kyiv's stated desire to draw closer to the European
Union, would antagonize Russians in Kharkiv. "People already think the border
is not transparent enough," said Vil Bekirov, the Kharkiv University professor.
"Placing greater restrictions on the border crossing regime would create a hostile
reaction. It should not even receive serious consideration. People should not
be put in a position to have to wait five or six hours to cross the border. It
should be a process that takes 10 minutes, no more."
Dniepropetrovsk
Dniepropetrovsk
is the quintessential industrial-behemoth city in Ukraine. The city of about 1.4
million, located along the Dniepr River, is little more than a drab collection
of pre-fabricated apartment blocks surrounded by sprawling factory complexes.
During the Soviet era, Dniepropetrovsk was defense-industry oriented, and thus
was "closed" to outsiders. Special permission from government authorities was
required to visit the city. Under the communist system, the government doted on
defense-related industries, and as a result, city residents lived relatively prosperous
and well-provisioned lives. The economic collapse that accompanied independence
wrought havoc in Dniepropetrovsk, idling factories and leading to widespread de
facto unemployment. Many of those who managed to keep their state-sector jobs
suffered significant delays in receiving their salaries. Conversely, the transformation
from communism to capitalism has allowed some local entrepreneurs to amass sizeable
fortunes, and the city center feature a number of fashionable boutiques and stores
that cater to the new, still-emerging elite, as well as to the criminal class.
In
many respects, the closed-city legacy lingers, as Dniepropetrovsk seems to cling
to its Soviet trappings. For example, the streets retain their Communist-inspired
names. The city's main boulevard is named for Karl Marx. Attitudes among residents
are similarly retrograde. Many recall the Soviet era with nostalgia and yearn
for some sort of return to the old days. Most are quick to recognize that it would
be impossible to reconstitute the former Soviet Union, but they nonetheless hope
for a closer relationship with Russia. "Without a doubt there are strong feelings
for some type of reunification with Russia," said Valentin Ivanenko, the head
of the Language Department at Dniepropetrovsk State University. "Many people here
voted for the left - including the Communists - and this can be viewed as a vote
for the restoration of close relations with Russia." As in all major cities in
eastern Ukraine, Dniepropetrovsk is dominated by the Russian language. But the
yearning for closer ties with Russia is driven more by economics than by cultural
affinities.
The experience of the Dniepro Tire Factory sheds light on the
forces at work that push struggling industries towards Russia. The factory, according
to Technical Director Vladimir Kovalenko, employs 7,200 workers in three shifts.
Twenty-six types of tires produced by the factory are exported to 36 countries,
with a full 60 percent going to Russia. The complex could be regarded as an exception
to the economic rule in Ukraine, as it has never shut down on account of financial
difficulties and it has managed to pay employees on time. Salaries, for managers
and line workers alike, are modest, under $100 per month. "We are one of the better
of factories," Kovalenko said.
Still, keeping the factory running presents
daunting problems. There are chronic shortages of energy and raw materials. In
addition, deal-making is hindered by a severe shortage of cash, among buyers and
suppliers alike. "We must conduct business on a barter basis, which cannot be
considered a civilized form of conducting economic relations," Kovalenko said.
Language-related
legislation, Kovalenko adds, merely complicates the already difficult job of keeping
the assembly lines running. Few employees, including managers, can speak Ukrainian.
"I was born and educated in Russia," said Chief Technologist Yegeny Levid. "I've
worked here for 38 years, but do not know Ukrainian. No one at the factory speaks
Ukrainian among themselves. All internal documents are written in Russian. If
we followed the law to the letter, we'd have big problems."
Kovalenko added:
"Under the current conditions, we should pay all our attention to reviving the
economy. If we succeed in this, then everything else will follow. The politicians,
with their legislation, only risk confusing things. Legislation should be aimed
at facilitating free trade."
Economic revival and close ties with Russia are
synonymous in the eyes of the tire factory managers. "Industry was intertwined
in the Soviet Union.… One would have to possess enormous resources to rebuild
from zero, and we do not have such resources," Kovalenko said. "Russia is where
the raw materials are. The closer the ties with Russia, the better the chances
for our economic revival."
Regarding the agricultural sector, dreadful conditions
on most farms in the Dniepropetrovsk Region reflect the general situation throughout
eastern Ukraine. Language-related legislation in rural regions is not a source
of much concern. Indeed, it is almost a nonissue. Most rural residents in eastern
Ukraine speak a local patois, Ukrainian heavily influenced by Russian.
Like
those in the industrial sector, agricultural workers are struggling to overcome
the effects of economic collapse. For example, at the Kirovskye Farm outside Dniepropetrovsk,
Director Oleksandr Misyuk expressed a desire for closer relations with Russia.
"Customs barriers for our products make it nearly impossible for us to survive,"
Misyuk said. The farm's 500 workers live in dire conditions, having not received
their state salaries in a year and a half. The farm subsists on barter arrangements.
For example, in order to obtain fuel, the farm trades sunflower seeds. A ton of
gas costs the farm one-and-a-half tons of sunflower seeds, Misyuk says.
Donetsk
Located
in the southeast corner of the country, Donetsk is a region largely defined by
coal. The Donetsk Basin, or Donbas, was a primary energy source for the early
industrial growth of the Russian empire and later the Soviet Union. However, the
mining industry has been hard hit by the collapse of the Soviet Union. Coal production
in the Donbas fell from 165 million tons in 1990 to 70 million tons in 1996, according
to figures in a study of the Donbas, entitled The Future of Old Industrial Regions,
published in 1998 by the Foundation for Economic Education in Poland. A significant
number of mines closed, and those that remain open can not operate efficiently.
But the sector at the same time lacked funds for retooling. Virtually all of the
operating mines are more than 50 years old. Exacerbating difficulties, enterprise
managers and government officials alike have been slow to promote economic restructuring.
As a result, living conditions in Donetsk are among the most severe in all of
Ukraine. Large numbers are unemployed, and approximately two-thirds of those still
on company payrolls do not receive their salaries on time.
In its cultural
orientation, Donetsk is solidly Russian, even though census data indicates that
roughly half the regional population is ethnic Ukrainian. Correspondingly, the
region orients itself towards Moscow, says Dmitry Kornilov, the local newspaper
editor. "In Donetsk, many people still think informally that Moscow is at the
center of the empire," he said. Economic hardship appeared to fuel feelings of
nostalgia and thus solidify established cultural identification.
Residents
offer stiff resistance to perceived Ukrainianization initiatives, especially in
the spheres of education and the media. "Donetsk is different because it is more
economically depressed than other regions and because it has a monolithic Russian
character," said Alexander Basilyuk, the leader of the Slavic Party. "The idea
that that the people - Russians and Ukrainians - are united is a concept that
has deep roots here. Ukrainiazation is going on, but we will continue to resist."
Statistics
on education support the notion of Donetsk as a bastion of resistance. Only 5
percent of the local grade-school students in the region study in Ukrainian-language
institutions. In 1989, the year of the last Soviet census, about 2 percent of
students studied in Ukrainian schools, according to Oleinik, the local NGO activist.
At
the same time, interest in reunification with Russia is muted. "The Donbas miners
see that the fate of miners in the Kuzbas region of Russia is worse than their
own. Thus they feel it is better to remain part of an independent Ukraine,' said
Yaroslav Pylynskyj, the Kyiv political scientist.
On top of economic factors,
demographic changes foster feelings of insecurity that could, in turn, impact
cultural attitudes. According to Dynges, the Donetsk State University professor,
the region has experienced a large influx of Russian-speaking Muslims, including
Chechens and Meskhetian Turks, a formerly deported people who are seeking rehabilitation
and the right to return to their traditional homeland in Georgia. (For background
information see the Forced Migration Projects special report, Meskhetian Turks:
Solutions and Human Security). At the same time, the local Slavic population has
been declining at an annual rate of 1.1 percent, Dynges said. By 2010, Muslims
could comprise a significant share of the regional population, a demographic development
that could potentially feed xenophobic feelings among the region's ethnic Russians.
"They formed the Islamic Party of Ukraine in 1997," Dynges said, "and already
they are carrying out propaganda activities."
Crimea
An
extensive description of political, social, and economic conditions on the Crimean
peninsula is contained in the Forced Migration Projects special report Crimean
Tatars: Repatriation and Conflict Prevention. Suffice it to say that Crimea has
been a center of separatism since Ukrainian independence. Social tension is present,
especially between Crimean Tatars and Russians. Ukrainian influence, meanwhile,
is negligible. Apart from the blue and gold flags flying atop government buildings,
there are few signs of Ukrainian governmental authority or cultural influence.
Ethnic
Russians comprise a large majority on the peninsula, which was transferred from
Russian to Ukrainian jurisdiction in 1954. This detail, combined with the fact
that many Russians in Crimea are essentially immigrants who arrived from other
parts of the Soviet Union in the aftermath of World War II, means the peninsula
retains a strong orientation towards Russia. Indeed, many residents of Crimea,
as well as large numbers in Russia proper, are loath to accept Ukraine's control
over the peninsula. Nostalgia for the Soviet Union is also widespread.
"I have
nothing against Ukrainians, as we are all Slavs. But Crimea should be a part of
Russia, actually we should be part of a union in which the two people [Russians
and Ukrainians] can embrace again," said Lydia Mikhailova, a pensioner in Sevastopol.
Nevertheless,
according to Volodymyr Prytula, a Crimea-based journalist, separatist sentiment
is gradually diminishing. Concurrently, acceptance of Ukrainian independence is
slowly growing. "The peak has passed as far as separatism goes. Many are disappointed
and feel abandoned by Russia," Prytula said. "If before an absolute majority supported
the incorporation of Crimea into Russia, now they would favor merely a confederation
of the two states."
Wider recognition of Ukrainian statehood does not necessarily
translate into greater openness towards Ukrainian cultural influences, however.
For example, there is only one Ukrainian-language school in Crimea, located in
Simferopol. The school, which opened in 1997, educates 420 students. According
to Natalia Rudenko, the school's director, local officials were not cooperative
during the start-up phase, and continue to resist efforts to expand Ukrainian-language
education. "Authorities did not do much to help us. They claimed that there was
no interest in Ukrainian-language education, but we have proven them to be wrong.
Yet they do little to help us," Rudenko said.
Chapter Four
Recommendations: A Preventative Approach
In
considering the potential for forced migration, Ukraine can be regarded as a cipher.
No one can predict with any degree of certainty the outcome of existing state-building
dilemmas. Several options remain open to policy actors, and the path taken will
naturally influence efforts to forge a cohesive Ukrainian society comprising Ukrainians,
Russians, and other nationalities. All sides have legitimate concerns that must
be balanced.
There exists an inherent contradiction in the state-building
process involving the country's 11 million ethnic Russians. The overwhelming majority
appears to be profoundly dissatisfied with the direction that the country has
taken in the years since independence, specifically regarding language policies.
Yet, despite perceptions of discrimination, ethnic Russians have given no indication
that they are preparing to leave in large numbers. Nevertheless, even the perception
of exclusionary policies is fraught with potential harmful consequences. Efforts
should be undertaken immediately to provide assurances that state building in
the future will adhere to an inclusive approach.
Of course, the Ukrainian
government bears the greatest burden for establishing a suitable framework for
dialogue and, ultimately, creating the proper conditions for the development of
civil society. Authorities must ensure that legislation designed to promote the
revival of the Ukrainian language and cultural traditions does not cause undue
hardships for the country's ethnic minorities, especially ethnic Russians who
have long-established roots in the eastern region of the country. Most importantly,
the government should take steps to foster the rule of law. Overcoming the Soviet
legacy of corruption and misrule is understandably difficult for the governments
in the region, including Ukraine. Nevertheless, the state must demonstrate a willingness
to remove arbitrariness from state building.
Basic responsibility for maintaining
stability in the state-building process rests with national authorities. However,
the international community can play a vital role in assisting Ukraine, providing
resources and capacity-building assistance. In addition, NGOs, both local and
international, can play an important implementing role in programs designed to
encourage dialogue and build trust.
As for specific recommendations:
An Interregional Exchange Program
At present, communication among those living in the western and eastern regions of Ukraine is limited. Mass media does little to promote an active civic discussion on state-building issues. The dearth of dialogue opens the way for misperception and prejudice to fill the communication void. Personal interaction, brought about by small-scale educational and other exchange programs, could help reduce existing tension and stimulate constructive discussion of the issues. Local NGOs would be ideally suited to plan and implement exchanges. One possible example might be an exchange of teachers among schools in eastern and western Ukraine. A student exchange program could also be devised.
Teacher Training
According to several experts, Ukraine suffers a shortage of instructors qualified to teach Ukrainian as a foreign language. Inadequate instruction can enhance frustration and discourage the learning of Ukrainian, especially in eastern regions of the country. Efforts should be undertaken to expand access to Ukrainian-language instruction. At present, instruction is largely limited to those of school age. Programs should be developed that encourage working-age and retired Russian speakers to study Ukrainian. One obvious possibility would be to utilize schools across the country for continuing education classes in the evening. Special attention should be paid to minimizing the potential financial burdens that can be associated with language learning, including not only the cost of instruction but also related materials, such as textbooks. Thus, national and local government agencies, as well as international organizations, should be prepared to substantially subsidize adult education efforts. The best practices of the United Nations Development Program's language instruction programs in the Baltic states could be useful in devising a Ukrainian-language instruction program for Russian speakers in Ukraine.
Demographic Research
Relating to Language Policy. Accurate and reliable information could assist policy actors in addressing the societal transformation in Ukraine. "There are no precise figures," said Tatyana Klinchenko of the Institute for Political and Sociological Studies. "Until we can analyze new population data, we can not say for sure what are the hopes and the intentions of the population." Research data could be especially useful in the educational sphere. Little research has been done in the sphere of language instruction. "No one knows for sure how many Russians desire to maintain Russian as the language of instruction for their children, and how many would prefer that their children study in Ukrainian schools," said Maria Oleinik, the NGO activist in Donetsk.
NGO Capacity Building
In aiming to fulfill potential in program implementation, local NGOs could benefit from capacity building, provided by international organizations and other NGOs. Specifically, international organizations could provide technical advice and support to the Ukrainian government in a review of the country's legislation concerning the taxation and registration of local NGOs. Laws should be modified, when appropriate, to stimulate NGO development, as a vibrant third sector could play an important role in promoting inclusive policies. Capacity building should not be limited to the provision of resources, whether in the form of grants or equipment. Garnering trust will be an important aspect to the success of NGO involvement in program implementation. Thus, emphasis should also be placed on training that promotes transparency and accountability in NGO activity. To this end, a fund could be established that aims to promote good governance among NGOs.
Promoting Uniform Legislation Implementation
A
source of discontent is found in the arbitrary application of language policy.
In addition, resentment is fueled by the perceptions of governmental abuse of
the taxation system to favor its supporters and to punish its opponents. Immediate
steps should be undertaken to build public trust in state institutions. Initiatives
could include:
oThe establishment by the Ukrainian government of an independent
ombudsman, empowered with the ability to investigate claims of discrimination
made by ethnic minorities, including Russians. An ombudsmen that not only identifies
arbitrary practices, but also provides mechanisms for the resolution of differences,
could reassure Russian speakers that the Ukrainian government is committed to
building an inclusive state.
oA legal aid initiative that provides advice and
assistance to those who perceive discrimination. Such an initiative could fill
an important gap in promoting individual rights in Ukraine. At present, unbiased
information about legislation is not as accessible to citizens as it could be.
By providing accurate information about rights and obligations, as well as possible
recourses in cases of discrimination, an aid initiative could build confidence
among the Russian speaking population about the state's legal framework for the
resolution of complaints.
oAn advocacy initiative. NGOs should be encouraged
to engage in public affairs advocacy activities in the spheres of language and
education. Acting in concert with a legal aid endeavor, an advocacy initiative
could help publicize current policies and statutes, thereby allowing citizens
to make more informed decisions regarding their rights.
Government Capacity Building
Wider respect for state institutions would enhance the chances that the Ukrainian and Russian communities could engage in substantive dialogue, resolving their differences in a mutually satisfactory manner. At present, however, the government is by all accounts riddled with corruption. The international community, in particular donor governments, can help foster greater respect for state institutions by working with the Ukrainian government to provide professional training. Such training should be aimed at standardizing the conduct of the state's bureaucratic machinery.
Historical Scholarship
In some ways, the Ukrainian and Russian communities in Ukraine have yet to reconcile over events connected with the formation of the Soviet Union, between 1918 and 1922, and relating to World War II. Lingering bitterness over past events clouds the ability to make future compromises. Objective evaluations of history could help erase stereotypical views. However, under present day economic conditions, it is difficult for scholars to pursue independent research. "Historical scholarship should always help improve conditions because it can produce dialogue. But right now it hurts," said Valery Meshcheriakov, the deputy governor of Kharkiv. "You cannot find an objective historian in Ukraine right now because scholars cannot live independently. Scholars are prone to write what those who pay them want." International actors in particular could promote independent analysis that stimulates information exchanges and dialogue.
Aleksyeyev,
Volodimyr, Vice-Chairman, Freedom of Speech and Information Committee, Supreme
Rada of Ukraine, Kyiv.
Bakirov, Vil, Professor, PhD in Sociology, Academician
at Ukraine Academy of Political Sciences, Kharkiv.
Basilyuk, Aleksandr, Chairman
of Slavic Party, Head of Congress of Russian Organizations in Ukraine, Donetsk.
Boiko,
Viktor, Writer, Deputy Chairman of Ukrainian Fund of Culture in Kharkiv Oblast,
Kharkiv.
Dynges, Alexander, Deputy Dean, Department of History, Donetsk State
University.
Emirov, Ayder, Director of Gasprinsky Crimean Tatars Library, Simferopol.
Gubaretz,
Vasil', Deputy Chief, Head Office Coordinating State Mass Media, Information Ministry
of Ukraine.
Ivanenko, Valentin, Professor, Head of Russian History Department,
Dniepropetrovsk State University.
Ivaschenko, Katherine, Head of the Sociological
Service, Center for Political Studies, Donetsk.
Klinchenko, Tatyana, Senior
Fellow Researcher, Institute for Political and Ethnic Studies, Academy of Sciences
of Ukraine, Kyiv.
Kornilov, Dmitry, Editor of Political News Department, "Donetsky
Kriazh" newspaper, Donetsk.
Kovalenko, Vladimir, Technical Director, Dniepro
Tire Factory, Dnipropetrovsk.
Mesheriakov, Valery, Vice-Chairman, Kharkiv Regional
Administration, Kharkiv.
Ognevjuk, Victor, Head of Department of Secondary
Education, Ministry of Education of Ukraine.
Ostash, Ihor, Committee for Foreign
Affairs, Deputy of Parliament of Ukraine, Kyiv.
Ovcharenko, Petro, Head of
Department for Ethnic & National Processes and National Minorities, State
Committee of Ukraine for Nationalities and Migration, Kyiv.
Ozenbashly, Meriem,
Head of Department of Culture, Parliament (Medzhlis) of Crimean Tatars, Simferopol.
Pilynskiy,
Leonid, Chairman of Crimean Human Rights Center, Crimean Regional Committee Helsinki
Citizens Assembly, Simferopol.
Popok, Andriy, Head of Department of Ukrainian
Diaspora, State Committee of Ukraine for Nationalities and Minorities, Kyiv.
Prytula,
Volodymyr, Radio Liberty correspondent, Simferopol.
Pylynsky, Yaroslav, Director
of Research Department, Pylyp Orlyk Institute for Democracy, Kyiv.
Rykova,
Nina, Editor of Political News Department, "Kyivskiye Vedomosti" newspaper.
Sarkanich,
Vasil', Engineer, Honored Teacher of Professional and Technical Training of Ukraine.
Telychenko, Valentina, Director for Institutional Development, Pylyp Orlyk
Institute for Democracy, Kyiv.
Todorov, Igor, Professor, International Relations
and Foreign Policy Department, Donetsk State University, Donetsk.
Vasylashko,
Vasyl', Chief of Department of Government Media, Ministry of Information of Ukraine,
Kyiv.
Yukht, Oleg, General Director, ATN TV news agency, Kharkiv.
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