Landscape with views of Tsarhorod

Among many new products presented at the Publishers’ Forum in Lviv recently, a series of books prepared by all-Ukrainian newspaper Den’s editors clearly stood out. This observation especially applied to yet another collection of historical journalism published by the newspaper, called Return to Tsarhorod, which had Larysa Ivshyna as its general editor and Ihor Siundiukov as compiler. This elegant 500-page volume contains 32 articles by 17 contributors known far beyond Ukraine’s borders. Suffice it to mention the recently deceased philosopher Serhii Krymsky or long-serving head of the Institute of Ukrainian History (National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine) Valerii Smolii.

Formally, the decision to compile the collection came due to the fact that the 17th century saw Ukraine in a geopolitical triangle shaped by Russia (Eurasia), Poland (and wider Western Europe), and Turkey (the Mediterranean). Actually, the triangle was simply at its most visible then, but it existed and continues to exist to some extent in other periods as well. Over previous years, the newspaper published two collections, which examined the complex relationship between Ukraine and Russia and Ukraine and Western Europe (primarily Poland). Thus, this book is a logical completion of the trilogy we planned. It deals with the historical relationship of Ukraine-Rus’, in the princely age [the 9th to 14th centuries. – Ed.] as well as under the Cossacks [the 16th to 18th centuries. – Ed.], with two empires which in turn held the Black Sea coast opposite Ukraine – the Byzantines and the Ottomans. They had the same capital, which at various times was called Byzantium, Constantinople, Istanbul. Our chronicles traditionally called it Tsarhorod, hence the name of the collection.

Modern Ukraine wants to return first of all to Europe. Still, the “southern vector” is also important for us. It is also associated with deep layers of our historical memory, and this direction formed the essential features of our national character as well. It was from Tsarhorod that the fledgling Kyivan Rus’ borrowed most of its state-building, religious, social, cultural, diplomatic traditions, both positive and negative. Therefore, it all should be subjected to a thorough stock-taking and rethinking if we are to overcome outdated stereotypes and to build our future. Besides, return to Tsarhorod is also to some extent a return to the childhood and youth of our nation. Such returns, even if in our minds only, are always exciting and instructive, bringing back memories of the early hopes, illusions, and frustrations, and also the first precious experience, truths learned and life principles established on our own.

Christianity came to us from Byzantium, directly or indirectly, and with it many features of our spirituality, preserved into the present day. Articles by Siundiukov, Volodymyr Rychka, and Ihor Smeshko cover this topic. The St. Sophia shrine, the cult of the saint and her daughters Faith, Hope and Love, which acquired new features on Ukrainian soil, also came to us from Tsarhorod. This issue is dealt with in contributions by Dmytro Stepovyk, Serhii Krymsky, and Volodymyr Panchenko.

The book offers an original perspective of the Cossacks as the heirs (at least partially) to the traditions of Old Rus’ princely retainers whose routes the Cossacks used when sailing to the Turkish coast, and Byzantine akritai border guards who had a very similar lifestyle. At the same time, the collection points out often glossed-over powerful Turkic, especially Tatar and Ottoman, components within the Cossack estate. Studies by Petro Kraliuk, Hryhorii Khalymonenko, and Taras Chukhlib are devoted to this issue.

Many articles deal with personalities, seemingly well-known, but here presented from an unexpected angle, that of Tsarhorod. Such are portraits of Saints Cyril and Methodius, St. Volodymyr and Yaroslav the Wise, Petro Sahaidachny, Bohdan Khmelnytsky, and Petro Doroshenko, Roxolana and Catherine the Great, and Ahatanhel Krymsky.

A number of articles are devoted to the Crimean Khanate, a unique state of which we know much less than we should (and even what we know is mostly distorted by chauvinist historiography, first Tsarist, and then Soviet), but which was indispensable in forging relationships between Kyiv (Sich) and Tsarhorod. This topic is covered by Gulnara Abdulaeva, Mykola Semena, and Valerii Stepankov.

Although Byzantium ceased to exist over 500 years ago, it left a considerable spiritual legacy which Ukraine has a rightful share in. Our claim to this legacy has long been challenged by aggressive neighbors, so we have to defend our rights. This is done in summarizing article by Serhii Kot and chronicle Byzantine Legacy: Chronicle of Distortion, placed at the book’s end. Kyiv has as much grounds to feel spiritually the Third Rome (after Tsarhorod, the Second Rome) as Moscow, which has long claimed this honor. However, to assert our historical foundations and prospects, we need to really return to Tsarhorod, restoring in the collective memory these important moments of our past.

This collection will surely find its grateful readers among high school and college students, scholars, all those interested in the nation’s history. After all, it raises issues that are still not fully explored and stand on the cutting edge of the scholarly debates. Even so, the presentation is as popular as possible, often displaying journalistic fervor that will leave nobody indifferent. Ivshyna herself considers this collection a book that allows a room for growth for its readers, the keys to our independent standing, our true place in the world. It was published in a very difficult, critical period of modern Ukrainian history. Thus, much of that is analyzed on these pages resonates with what we are now experiencing ourselves – only look at Rychka’s article “How Separatists Killed the Kyivan Rus’”! Therefore, the book is very, very timely. It, among other things, is likely to become a factor in modern Ukrainian state-building as well.