Ukraine and My Jewish Problem (and Ours)
Peter Eisenstadt
Two-thirds of a lifetime ago, in the summer of 1975, I visited Ukraine, or, as it was then called, the Ukraine, when it was a Soviet Socialist Republic. (Why Ukraine lost its article upon independence has never been clear to me.) I was part of a Soviet Intourist tour. We spent several days in Kiev, and a day in Kharkov and Poltava. What do I remember of Ukraine? Kiev had wide and majestic streets, with very few cars. It was raining cats and dogs in Kharkov. In Poltava we saw monuments to the battle of Poltava, which, as you remember, saw the ambitions of Charles XII of Sweden come a cropper at the hands of the forces of Peter the Great back in 1709. Everywhere we saw monuments to the Great Patriotic War (that is, the Nazi invasion of the Soviet Union) and statues of Taras Svenchenko, the great 19th century Ukrainian writer than no one outside of Ukraine has ever heard of. (The greatest 19th century Ukrainian writer, Nikolai Gogol, had the misfortune to write in Russian.)