The birthplace of giraffes

Journalism can and must form values, no matter how dubious this idea may sound.

Ukrainian society, which declared its goal to become democratic after leaving the post-totalitarian space, is in dire need of professional journalists, who will surgically excise the past and provide a treatment to cure the present. But to be able to perform such procedures, journalists need to undergo moral training. The heads of many journalists — and, indeed, our entire national informational space — are littered with vestiges of Soviet propaganda, on the one hand, and contemporary informational junk, pop culture, and bad taste, on the other.

One can trace the lengthy path from May 5, the Day of Soviet Journalism, to June 6, the Day of Ukrainian Journalism. This path is marked by its own “executed renaissance.” Suffice it to recall the murder of Borys Derevianko, the editor of Vechirnia Odesa , the death of Ihor Aleksandrov, and the tragic demise of Heorhii Gongadze and many others. To some extent, this was a sign that signaled the degradation and stagnation of Ukrainian journalism. Today, we see signs of a renaissance, but they are faint.

The late 1980s saw a powerful upsurge of the press, which had been raised on the classics of Ukrainian literature and existed owing to the selfless efforts of many heroes. It continued to nourish the free-thinking tradition that had always been like an underground river. It was not on the surface: it would burst like a geyser from a concrete slab through the writings of such titans as Hryhir Tiutiunnyk, Vasyl Stus, Mykola Vinhranovsky, or Lina Kostenko.

The tectonic shifts of the early 1990s gave rise to the hope that Ukraine would be transformed very quickly, with journalism playing a certain role in this transformation. But the national romanticism of many of those who filled the information space was disorientating. We somehow forgot that we were supposed to graft certain rational things onto the new Ukrainian journalism. But we stupidly threw out much of what we could have taken from the old house.

The Soviet era had some good examples of classic journalism that, unfortunately, was part of a twisted and ideology-governed system. But those who could and wanted to defend people always found a way to do so.

At the time it seemed that when the walls that separate people from the press were dismantled, journalists would go to the people. But they went to the places where there was money. The year 1996 was a period when journalism succumbed to some very strong temptations: first, the corruption of the immature Ukrainian press, then the corruption Prime Minister Pavlo Lazarenko. Until that time Ukrainian journalism had not seen such big money.

The Ukrainian slang word “dzhynsa” was coined in 1996, when the first articles written-to-order appeared. This pseudo-journalism was at its most brutal in 1999, during Leonid Kuchma’s second bid for the presidency. At the time, publications were divided not into the serious and tabloid press but into those publications that served the government (any government, under any condition) and a small number of those that tried to resist the temptation. Kuchma’s second presidential term was accompanied by never-ending political horoscopes focused on who was in the president’s entourage and how these people ranked. This was the “analysis of the dung heap.” Then, as fast as love can turn into hatred, came the Ukraine without Kuchma campaign, which was nothing but a flash in the pan.

At our newspaper we presented an absolutely different type of journalism. Back in 1997, when The Day was founded, we said that we would defend the interests of the civil society. We expended a lot of effort so that our active position could help change the political situation in our country. Our journalists fought like lions, showing a different path of Ukraine’s development. But there were few of us and we lost.

After 1999 The Day wrote as little as possible about worthless politics. We focused on history and began introducing titanic figures into the Ukrainian context. We began writing about closed and unspoken history, not the stuff of archives. We can affirm that together with our readers and experts — historians, philosophers, and culture specialists — we have inscribed many correct lines into the changes that have occurred in Ukraine lately. This gave birth to Ukraina Incognita, an unrivaled library that has now grown to seven publications embracing the conceptual junctions of our history.

Our newspaper has made strenuous efforts to make these books available to young readers in Ukrainian universities. But have Ukrainian journalists read these books? Do they know the journalistic legacy of James Mace? Is our newspaper’s experience an example to follow? We are often ignored — not by all but many, because when journalism was freed from the control of the Communist Party, for some time it fell under “mob control.” It is good that things are changing, albeit too slowly. Sometimes, people say jokingly that Ukraine is the birthplace of elephants. To be more exact, it is the birthplace of giraffes, because it takes a long time to reach it.

Problems in a state begin when people cannot tell Good from Evil. So journalism should teach people to tell the two apart and to think. After all, its role is not confined to simply throwing information into space. What about presenting, commenting and reflecting, and doubting this information? What building materials do we need for today and tomorrow? We can only choose them on the basis of well-established values. In terms of values, we are Europeans, people of a free world, who have always proved their need for freedom. This is not the tradition of revolt; this is a tradition of resistance in all its meanings, above all, the spiritual one.

An exhibit entitled “The Ukrainian Insurgent Army: History of the Invincible,” was held recently in Kyiv. It is a colossal chronicle, a veritable bonanza for journalists. Every photograph and document page on display can be the basis for essays, spot reports, hundreds of books, and hundred-episode documentary serials. The question is whether Ukrainian journalism will engage in this work. And if so, how? Will it be impartial?

A program about this exhibit was broadcast on the 5th Channel, during which a journalist said it was difficult for UPA soldiers to be photographed. That was an interesting factoid, and we should thank 5th Channel for it. A group of UPA heroes, who were once persecuted by the former empire’s Committee for State Security (KGB), were invited, as distinguished guests, to the very place from where the security organs had been dogging them. Today this building is called the Security Service of Ukraine, the country for which these heroes sacrificed their lives and shed an ocean of blood — their own and the other side’s. It is a powerful symbol of the new times! Among the guests were Yurii, the son of the UPA commander in chief Roman Shukhevych, UPA commander Myroslav Symchych, and Levko Lukianenko, but the program said nothing about this. There were a lot of cameras but zero results. Is this good journalism? And this is one of countless examples.

Journalism is directly linked with the problems of society. Why should we not take up the fundamental idea that qualitative changes in our society will only begin once Ukrainian journalism is restored to health?