17th-century breakthrough into Europe

An Old Testament sage correctly stated that there is nothing new under the sun. The same is true of Ukraine’s contemporary aspirations to integrate into Euro­pe. If you look back three and a half centuries, you will find proof that even during the period of the Ruin, the problem of choosing the correct geopolitical road for Ukraine, the correlation between the “Western” and “Eastern” vectors for the future of the Cossack Hetman state, were top priorities. In fact, the latter became even more pressing after the death in 1657 of the universally recognized leader, Hetman Bohdan Khmel­nytsky.

Thus, it is becoming increasingly important to make a careful analysis of those tragic events that determined Ukraine’s destiny as a state. These events are graphic evidence of the fact that without a mature, “Ukrainocentric,” well-educated, and incorruptible ruling elite with a political will and full awareness of its responsibility there is no point in discussing Ukraine’s European choice. This was true then and is still true today. There is no use cherishing any hopes because both in the 1650s and in the early part of the 21st century, Ukraine’s national destiny has not been decided by beautiful words, empty phrases, but concrete deeds (the deeds of a strong, consolidated power, not by one that is degrading and immersed in interclannish squabbles). The 350th anniversary of the Treaty of Hadiach between Ukraine and Poland is eloquent proof.

Let us turn to the dramatic conflicts of 1657. Without a doubt, the death of Hetman Khmel­nytsky at the very time when Ukraine’s future was, figuratively speaking, enveloped in dark clouds, was a great misfortune for our country. The hetman’s death was immediately followed by a pitched struggle for power — Ukraine’s age-old curse — when a free political choice was impossible and our country’s further development became directly dependent on its neighbors (Muscovy, the Polish Kingdom, Turkey, Sweden, and the Crimea). An entire cohort of Khmelnytsky’s experienced comrades in arms — people with substantial political and military merits — was ambitiously vying for the hetman’s mace.

However, there was a meager selection of candidates: the choice lay between Khmelnytsky’s son Yurii, who had neither the experience nor the talent required of a political leader (it is anyone’s guess what course our history would have taken if Khmelnytsky’s eldest, capable son Tymish had not been killed in battle at Suceava in 1652, now part of Romania), and the secretary-general (chancellor) Ivan Vyhovsky, who was one of Khmelnytsky’s closest associates. Shortly after Yurii Khmelnytsky’s swift abdication, Vyhovsky was elected to Ukraine’s highest political and military post. His decisions would play an important role in subsequent events.

Regardless of who was elected hetman of Ukraine, there was one task facing the political class of the Hetman State, namely, to prevent the political boat from being rocked at a time when Ukraine was being increasingly pressured by neighboring countries. Needless to say, most of this pressure came from the Muscovite government of Aleksei I of Russia. Above all, Vyhovsky made his “European choice” to resist this pressure.

For the new hetman, the situation was exacerbated by the presence of a strong opposition, best described as left-radical in modern political parlance. The opposition moods were spurred by the rapid process of property and social differentiation between the Cossacks and the peasants, and by the overall exacerbation of social antagonisms. The tsar and his milieu had every reason to feel jubilant because the Muscovite government had succeeded in taking advantage of these antagonisms.

Flirting first with Vyhovsky and then with his political enemies, Martyn Pushkar, the colonel of Poltava, and Yakiv Barabash, who represented the rebellious Zaporozhian Cossacks, the tsar resorted to treacherous political maneuvers in order to split Ukraine by antagonizing the Cossack officers and the impoverished Cossacks.

This plan would have never come to fruition if not for the never-ending pitched struggle for power among the leading representatives of the ruling political class-the Cossack officers-which was provoked both by the greed of the Ukrainian elite and the subversive activities of Moscow’s fifth column in Ukraine. Above all, the tragedy of the Ruin was caused by the fact that the ambitions of the leaders of the Hetmanate and Zaporizhia took precedence over Ukraine’s general national and state interests. This resulted in a devastating civil war that lasted for more than a decade, literally sundered Ukraine in two, and claimed tens of thousands of lives. This history lesson is one that today’s ruling political class should learn. How many times can one step on the same rake?

The premier Ukrainian historian Mykhailo Hrushevsky describes Vyhovsky’s policies thus: “The new hetman was probably a whole head higher than Yurii Khmelnytsky; he was a very experienced man, intelligent, knowledgeable, not a bad politician, and at the same time undoubtedly a Ukrainian patriot, a dedicated autonomist, and adherent of the Cossack officers with whom he sincerely desired to secure Ukraine’s freedom and integrity. However, he lacked Khmelnytsky’s popularity: he was a Ukrainian nobleman from Kyivan Polissia, who had worked in chancelleries, had no special interest in military affairs, and had joined the army by accident: people said that Khmelnytsky bought his freedom from the Tatars after he was captured at Zhovti Vody. In addition, Vyhovsky became hetman not by being elected by a full [Cossack] council but against its will. In the circumstances of The Day, all this further complicated the new hetman’s situation.”

Aware of Muscovy’s aggressive policy, Vyhovsky and his milieu arrived at the sole rational conclusion that the only way out of the situation was Ukraine’s accelerated rapprochement with some European countries, specifically Poland and Sweden. However, owing to the fact that Sweden had been using most of its forces to fight Denmark since 1657, and that it had failed ultimately to defeat the Polish Kingdom, Warsaw remained his only real ally in his conflict with the Russian tsar.

Interestingly, until the very last moment Vyhovsky tried to avoid an open confrontation with Muscovy. To this end, he resorted to considerable political concessions in exchange for the tsarist envoys’ confirmation of the legitimacy of his hetmanship — a very sensitive issue at the time — Vyhovsky agreed to the arrival of Muscovite voivodes in Pereiaslav, Nizhyn, and Chernihiv, and promised to give Moscow sout­hern Belarus and Staryi By­khiv, and to sever his relations with Sweden.

However, after Vyhovsky was compelled to use force to suppress the insurrections of Pushkar and Barabash, who relied on the Muscovites’ support (during which Poltava was razed to the ground), it became clear that there was no way to avoid a confrontation with the “northern neighbor.” A political rapprochement with the government of King Jan II Casimir of Poland was also inevitable.

The talks lasted several months and resulted in the proclamation on Sept. 16, 1658, in Hadiach (Poltava region) of an important treaty outlining the terms of the union between the Ukrainian Hetmanate, Poland, and Lithuania. The Polish side was represented by the experienced diplomat Stanislaw Kazimierz Bieniewski, and the Ukrainian side, by Yurii Nemyrych, the outstanding political and public figure, aristocrat, scholar, diplomat, and graduate of the finest universities of Holland, England (Oxford and Cambridge), and France (Paris). A European through and through, Nemyrych had spent a great deal of energy and time preparing the draft treaty. The document was tentatively approved in Hadiach, which, if implemented, could have changed the course of Eastern European history.

The Treaty of Hadiach envisaged the restructuring of the Rzeczpospolita into a federation of three independent states: Poland, Lithuania, and Ukraine. The first clause of the treaty declares that Ukraine, within the bounds of the Kyiv, Chernihiv, and Bratslav voivodeships, is a free and independent state known as the Grand Principality of Ruthenia. All three nations form three independent republics united only in the person of the king, who will be elected jointly by Poland, Ukraine, and Lithuania.

Supreme executive power within the Principality of Ruthenia was to be vested in the hetman, who was to be elected for life and confirmed by the king. Legislative power rested with a national assembly of deputies from all the lands of the Principality. It was to have its own higher court tribunal with all bureaucratic work conducted in the Ukrainian language, and its own treasury and army consisting of 30,000 Cossacks and 10,000 regular mercenaries. No Polish or Lithuanian troops were authorized to enter Ukrainian territory.

This treaty deals with religious matters in an interesting way. The Union of Brest-Litovsk (1596) was to be abolished in all three states: Ukraine, Lithuania, and Poland. The Orthodox faith was granted the same rights as Roman Catholicism: an Orthodox metropolitan and a bishop would have seats in the joint Senate of the confederated state. Complete freedom of the press and expression even in relation to confessional matters, was proclaimed. How­ever, offenses to the mo­narch had to be eschewed in books and public discussions.

The Treaty of Hadiach, which was finally ratified by the Polish Sejm after heated debates, was a model document of compromise and mutual concessions. For example, the Ukrainian side agreed to waive its demands that all western Ukrainian territories, including the Volyn and Podillia voivodships, be made part of the Grand Principality of Ruthenia.

However, this treaty, which offered Ukraine a potential opportunity for European progress, no more and no less, was never implemented, even though in June 1659 the 100,000-strong Muscovite army led by the Princes Trubetskoi, Romodanovsky, and Pozharsky, whose troops invaded Ukraine, destroying everything with fire and sword precisely in order to prevent the Treaty of Hadiach from being carried out, suffered a devastating defeat at Konotop. Why did this happen? The answer to this question is crucially important to Ukrainians.

There are no miracles in history. Disunited in terms of class, property, and politics, Ukrainian society could have defended its freedom and independence and become truly integrated into Europe only in the presence of a unifying idea (privatization of property, land, peasants — i.e., the slogan of “freedom of enrichment” could not have served as this idea) and a strong leader capable of rallying the entire nation.

It was not Vyhovsky’s fault but his great misfortune that he was not capable of becoming this kind of leader. He suffered a political defeat in the fall of 1659 (not without the active assistance of “agents of influence” or direct hirelings of Muscovy, who had the support of poor Cossacks). Nevertheless, failing in the year 2008 to draw conclusions from this ancient tragedy is tantamount to destroying the Ukrainian state.