A Word on Language

Ukraine has been unlucky in its modern history, having gone through such traumas as a ban on its very language in the late nineteenth century, three manmade famines in the twentieth, the destruction of its intelligentsia, and the skewing of the very meaning of the words it uses to try to understand and explain the world. I have been criticized for describing what happened here as genocide, but I cannot for the life of me think of a better word. This is perhaps the main reason why I was honored when after a column some weeks ago my old friend, Mykhailo Slaboshpytsky, called and asked me to give one of the prizes to young people for excellence in Ukrainian the day after tomorrow. I have written how I admire his and Canadian philanthropist Petro Jacyk’s initiative to support the prestige of things Ukrainian by awarding it. “Well,” I said, “you know that my resources are limited, but I can always find a memorial banknote of Benjamin Franklin.” We agreed, and I will be there.

I really cannot say that the Ukrainian language is any better or worse than Russian, Polish, or my native English. I can only say that it is special, for all languages and cultures are special, unique, and contribute to the wealth of human culture as such. After all, New York would be less interesting without its Chinese restaurants (including kosher ones) and Chinatown, or for that matter London without its Indian eateries. I have spent over the last quarter century studying Ukraine, virtually all my adult life, and most of the last decade living here because I know that America will get along just fine whether I am there or not, but here I might just be able to make a small difference, if only with $100 awarded as the James Mace prize for excellence in Ukrainian. After all, if a boy like me from Oklahoma can learn Ukrainian, I really do not see why the 35% of the population of this country who say they do not know beans in the language cannot do likewise. I have grave doubts as to whether Ukraine can contribute a great deal to Russian culture, but by contributing to its own it can and will enrich that of our species as a whole. Forgive me for saying so, but I believe that sameness is the poverty of mankind and diversity its wealth. If I can do something to foster that wealth, if even in a modest way, I will know I will not have lived in vain.