Mar is léir d’aon duine a choinníos súil ar na príomhscéalta nuachta tá sochaí na hÚcráine á streachailt as a chéile ar fad, agus cuma an chogaidh chathartha ag teacht ar an tír leis na scliúchais atá ar siúl faoi láthair (faoi dheireadh mhí Eanáir). Céard is fáth leis an gcoimhlint seo ar aon nós?
Nuair a bhí an Úcráin ina poblacht Shóivéadach, bhí teanga agus cultúr dúchasach na tíre thíos go mór mór leis an Rúiseachas, nó leis an meon Sóivéadach arbh í an Rúisis a theanga. Le teacht an neamhspleáchais i ndiaidh do chóras an Aontais Shóivéadaigh titim as a chéile tháinig seanteanga na tíre chuici arís, ach má tháinig, ní raibh gach uile dhuine sásta leis an athrú. Bhí na ceantair thionsclaíochta in oirthear na tíre iompaithe chun Rúisise le fada, agus muintir an réigiúin sin ag dearcadh orthu féin mar Rúisigh, nó mar thírghráthóirí Sóivéadacha.
Ba é an meas a bhí ag na bolscairí Sóivéadacha ar an Rúisis i ndiaidh an chogaidh ná gurbh í an teanga fhrith-Fhaisisteach, agus iad ag tabhairt le tuiscint gur teangacha náisiúnaíocha nó fiú Faisisteacha iad teangacha na bpoblachtaí beaga Sóivéa-dacha. Is minic a bhíos síol beag fírinne i mbréag bolscaireachta agus ní eisceacht é cás na hÚcráine is na hÚcráinise. Ag forghabháil na hÚcráine dóibh bhain na Naitsithe a n-úsáid féin as teanga na tíre le ding a shá idir muintir na tíre agus an tAontas Sóivéadach. Agus san Úcráin dhaonlathach féin tá a lán vótaí ar fáil don pholaiteoir ar maith leis teacht i dtír ar an gcuimhne a choinníos lucht labhartha na Rúisise ar imeachtaí an chogaidh.
Scéal eile fós é nár thit iarthar na hÚcráine leis an Aontas Sóivéadach ach de thoradh an Dara Cogadh Domhanda. Ba chuid den Pholainn é roimhe sin. Cé nach raibh lucht rialtais na tíre sin róshásta le haon chineál náisiúnachais nó scarúnachais Úcránaigh, níor bhac siad leis an teanga a choinneáil faoi chois go ró-éifeachtach, agus mar sin tá sí i bhfad níos beo inniu féin in Iarthar ná in Oirthear na tíre.
Ar ndóigh, spreagadh eile a bhí anseo do na bolscairí náisiúnachas a chur i leith lucht labhartha na hÚcráinise. Ar a laghad ní bhfuair muintir an iarthair scolaíocht cheart idé-eolaíoch an Chumannachais roimhe seo, agus mar sin ní fhéadfá a bheith ina muinín.
Maidir leis an Aontas Eorpach is léir gurb iad lucht labhartha na hÚcráinise is mó a chuireas suim ann. Bheadh ardú stádais ann don Úcráinis dá ndéanfaí teanga oifigiúil de chuid an Aontais di, mar shampla. Ón taobh eile de is é an tuairim a bhíos ag lucht labhartha na Rúisise san Úcráin go raibh siad ina gcónaí i dtír dhúchais de chuid na Rúisise riamh agus gurb í an Rúisis an teanga shibhialta ardliteartha pé scéal é – is é sin nach bhfuil san Úcráinis ach teanga an bhéaloidis.
Tá scoilt pholaitiúil ag dul leis an scoilt teanga seo, agus is minic a chloisfeá Úcránach ag rá go bhfuil sé i ndán dá thír titim as a chéile sa deireadh: ansin rachadh an t-iarthar leis an neamhspleáchas agus leis an Úcráinis, agus an t-oirthear sásta dul leis an Rúis ar fad.
Scríbhneoir Gaeilge ón bhFionlainn agus scoláire Slavach é Panu Petteri Höglund.
As anyone who’s been following the news must be aware, Ukraine’s society is deeply divided, and the recent riots towards the end of January have made the country appear to be on the verge of civil war. But what is this conflict all about anyway?
Back when Ukraine was a Soviet republic, the native language and culture suffered much under the sway of ‘Russian-ness’, or rather, of the Soviet mentality that was expressed in Russian. When the Soviet system collapsed and independence came, the old language again came to its own, but this didn’t please everybody. The industrial centres in eastern Ukraine had adopted Russian a long time ago, and the people of that region tended to see themselves as Russians, or as Soviet patriots.
After the Second World War, Soviet propagandists saw Russian as the anti-Fascist language, with the implication that the non-Russian languages of small Soviet republics were nationalist tongues. Propaganda often has a grain of truth, and Ukraine was no exception: when the Nazis occupied Ukraine they exploited the Ukrainian language in their own propaganda to make the locals more amenable. And even in independent Ukraine there have been lots of votes available to a politician willing to make his own use of how speakers of Russian prefer to see the war.
Another aspect is that western Ukraine became a part of Soviet Union only after the war. Before that it was part of Poland, and while the rulers of that country weren’t exactly fond of Ukrainian nationalism or separatism, they didn’t bother to stamp out the language either, and the result is that Ukrainian is much more alive in the western half of the country even today.
Of course, in Soviet propaganda this regional difference was one of the reasons why Ukrainian was seen as a nationalist language. Western Ukrainians had not been appropriately politically schooled in Communism, and thus were found unreliable.
As regards the European Union, it is obvious that Ukrainian speakers are most interested in it. It would mean a better status for Ukrainian if it were made an official language of the EU, for instance. On the other hand, speakers of Russian in Ukraine tend to think that they have always lived in one of those countries where Russian is native, and that Russian is the civilized, literary language, while Ukrainian is only good for folklore.
This linguistic split is accompanied by a political split, and you often hear a Ukrainian say that the country itself will be split eventually, with the west going in for independence and the Ukrainian language, and the east joining Russia.
Panu Petteri Höglund is a Finnish writer of Irish expression and a Slavic scholar.
