May 9 illustrates an interesting problem quite well—one I’d like to discuss briefly in this column. This is the problem of the “state-centrism” of history. Since the revival of authoritarianism began in Russia, May 9 has become the main authoritarian holiday. And since then it seems like “grandfathers fought” only against our northern neighbors, while you here are some unclear group, and people still need to figure out which side you were on. Let me say immediately that I lay no claim to the laurels of fighting grandfathers; I, generally speaking, do not care who fought on whose side seventy years ago, especially in a situation where, as they say, “both are bad.” What I want to say is that everyone in our Ukraine who tries to participate in the “great victory” looks rather pathetic and unconvincing—like people trying to latch onto someone else’s glory.
Meanwhile, historically, Ukraine was the main battlefield on the Eastern Front of World War II. For Ukrainians, it began in 1939, when the USSR, being an ally of Germany, bit off part of modern Western Ukraine from Poland. Then the Nazis drove out the Bolsheviks, and after that—the Bolsheviks drove out the Nazis. And all of this happened right here with us. So why then are the people who took part in historical events the longest and suffered the greatest losses not considered their main participants? This is where the “state-centrism” of history comes in. The USSR fought with us, and Russia considers itself its successor. And let all this “succession” consist of nothing but fake—like the pseudo-Georgian ribbon—but Russian people believe in it and are ready to foam at the mouth to prove that they, together with Putin, defeated fascism.
Everything is very simple. There was no Ukraine in World War II. But there was the USSR. And now Russia is in its place. That is, it turns out that without “Ukraine”—that is, without a state—the feats and suffering of a huge number of people have significance only in the context of another state’s history. It turns out that the state legitimizes the people, legitimizes people and their history. Without it, they are nothing.
This is not surprising, because the history we are used to arose as entertainment and instruction for sovereigns (Plutarch wrote about Greek kings), and then turned into a means of propaganda for states. You will encounter the approach “some kind of people lived here, but they had no state” (that is, they were incomplete) everywhere, and not only in the everyday version of historical science. Why regular taxation on a certain territory (that is, a state) gives greater significance to some groups of people compared to others is completely unclear, but it is a fact.
Actually, the history of peoples—that is, people connected by some kind of permanent relationships—began to be studied professionally relatively recently. But, of course, this direction is not the main one. Forum fighters have heard nothing, for example, about Mikhail Rostovtsev and his studies of the ancient Roman economy. It is, as they say, unnecessary to them in their sacred struggle. When they talk about ancient Rome, they talk about emperors, and not about the economy (that is, about people and their activities).
If we look at ourselves from a state-centric point of view, this will be some kind of… horror. This will be a history of betrayals, weakness of will, and corruption. What will our grandchildren study within the framework of such a history? The change of presidents, each of whom managed to become worse than the previous one? Corruption schemes? The role of Gazprom in Ukrainian politics?
Meanwhile, in the newest history of Ukrainians, and not of the state that settled on their heads, there are events that one can and should be proud of. What are worth, for example, the two successful Maidans. All “achievements one can rightly be proud of” are connected with the activities of people, often contrary to the same state.
In general, all this again comes down to the fact that one can only win by turning shortcomings into advantages. May 9 clearly illustrates the fact that if we think in the categories of “history of Ukraine,” then we are doomed to the role of scenery in someone else’s plays. If, on the contrary, to counter state-centrism, we put human-centrism, the history of connections between people, the institutions and social phenomena they create, then the picture will turn out completely different. “History of Ukraine” inevitably divides us into “good” and “bad,” depending on the opinion of the current authorities in the state. “History of Ukrainians,” on the contrary, includes everyone—Shevchenko and Gogol and Sikorsky and the same Rostovtsev, who is also our fellow countryman. And I greatly exaggerated by saying about turning shortcomings into advantages. It is more a matter of seeing the advantage we already have and making use of it. This is the advantage of the reality of society over the chimera of the state, the advantage of freedom over slavery. All that remains is to notice it.