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How the history of Rus’-Ukraine has become part of “general Russian history”

04.11.2010, 14:54

“Kyiv, the mother of Rus’ cities,” “Prince Yaroslav the Wise of Rus’,” “The Story of Ihor’s Campaign, a brilliant relic of Old Rus’ literature” — and countless other examples. The shadows of meaning are of the utmost historical and political importance, considering that the Muscovite tsars, starting in the second half of the 15th century, substituted in their documents the history of the state of Old Rus’ (since the times of Princes Volodymyr I the Great [subsequently canonized as a saint], Yaroslav the Wise, and Volodymyr Monomakh) with that of “Russia,” and later Muscovy, and finally the Russian Empire (under Peter I). They knew what they were doing, because historical birthright, historical succession, finally historical legitimacy are categories that are as important as the national gold reserves, territory or combat readiness. Calling the history of Rus’-Ukraine, installing it as an inseparable component of the concept “general Russian history” was something without which it would be impossible to create an autocratic rigidly centralized Muscovite state ruled by Ivan III, Ivan IV the Terrible, and Alexis of Russia, annex age-old Rus’-Ukraine’s territories and finally put together, by blood and iron, Peter I’s absolutist monarchy. That is why we Ukrainians should clearly distinguish between the notions of Rus’ and Russia. This is something much harder to comprehend in Russia, where these notions are synonyms for a number of political reasons and traditions.

How was this substitution made? It is important to note that did not take place in the first half of the 19th century, when Nikolai Karamzin published his well-known History of the Russian State and Mikhail Pogodin came up with his “general Russian” pattern of Eastern Slavic history. Moreover, the whole affair was started not by learned historians but grand princes of Muscovy who acted hand in glove with the hierarchs — metropolitans — and later patriarchs of the Orthodox Church (who consciously sought to strengthen Muscovite autocracy, securing themselves the important role of those rulers’ spiritual mentors).

To understand how this history was edited in the autocratic context, it is necessary to bear in mind that chronicles, as the most important sources of historical consciousness and people’s memory, were written in the 14th-16th centuries either at the Muscovite court (this is true of the absolute majority of such chronicles) or at the chief diocese (with its abovementioned political orientation). The first so-called general Russian chronicle (also known as the Troitskaia Chronicle, 1409) by Metropolitan Cyprian makes clear the author’s intention of eulogizing the princes of Moscow, compared to their counterparts in Tver. Ryazan, Nizhny, even Veliky Novgorod. Thus began a process that would last several centuries. There is another historical event that is very salient for this topic — the tale of Metropolitan Petro of Kyiv, who moved first to Vladimir and then to Moscow (in 1301).

It was quite some time before the grand princes of Moscow found an ideological substantiation for the legitimacy and integrity of a single centralized state that was being created with fire and sword. This took large-scale historical falsifications, leaving out from and adding things to chronicles, straightening out dissenting chronicles with whip, torture, and execution (Ivan the Terrible was markedly active in this domain). That ideology boiled down to the grand princes (later tsars) of Muscovy being portrayed as direct descendants from and inheritors of the glorious princes of Kyivan Rus’ (Rus’-Ukraine), of the Rurikid Dynasty (hence the adjective rus’ky, meaning of Rus’, as distinguished from Russian — i.e., of Russia, which actually used to denote Muscovite, in other words of or belonging to Muscovy and its heritage). Ivan III (1462-1505) declared that “we come from the family branch of the princes of Vladimir and Suzdal, the oldest and most powerful descendants of the Rurikid Dynasty (in fact, those princes of Vladimir — among them Yuri Dolgoruky, Andrei Bogoliubsky, Vsevolod Bolshoye Gnezdo — were anything but the most powerful and oldest among the rulers of Old Rus’ because the princes of Kyiv remained “first among equals”) . It was thus Ivan III, Ivan IV, Basil III and other “great omnipotent tsars,” while zealously gathering lands round Moscow, referred their power and legitimate accession to the throne to Grand Kyivan Princes St. Volodymyr, Yaroslav the Wise, and Volodymyr Monomakh (hence the reference to Yaroslav the Wise as “Russian Prince” rather than “Prince of Rus’”).

The Nikon Chronicle is another interesting source that has a direct bearing on the topic under study. Written in the mid-14th century (Ivan IV’s epoch), it starts with an account of world history, referring to biblical historical books, Byzantine chronicles, and a number of other sources. The general concept was of a mind-boggling scope [by contemporary standard], presenting Muscovite (rus’ka) history as part of universal history. According to the compilers and their autocratic editor, Ivan the Terrible, after the decline of the Kingdom of Judah, Babylonia, and the Macedon, Roman and Byzantine empires, Muscovy emerged as their successor and the only legitimate successor to Kyivan Rus’. In fact, Ivan the Fourth claimed that the grand princes and tsars of Muscovy descended from none other than Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus [founder of the Roman Empire], as did a number of European rulers.

Ivan IV’s Collection of Chronicles, decorated by miniatures from the Nikon Chronicle, was a grandiose project that demanded mind-boggling expenses and efforts. A large amount of first-rate Italian paper was purchased, the best painters were commissioned to work on the miniatures, and hundreds of scribes worked on the text. The first volume alone numbered 2,062 pp. and boasted 1,677 miniatures. There were 10 volumes in all. The tsar believed this project was a political necessity, as a uniform idea about the royal dignity of the “Russian” tsars as successors to the Roman and Byzantine emperors, about the lasting single tsarist rule in Russia, about the historical title of the Muscovite ruler to the entire heritage of Kyivan Rus’ (Rus’-Ukraine), including Poland and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, had to be asserted. The entire country was regarded as a patrimonial estate of the princes and tsars of Muscovy, for they were sole rulers of the land of Rus’ and decided its destiny.

Mention ought to be made of Philotheus of Pskov, the well-known hegumen of the Yelizarov Monastery in that city who devoutly supported the idea of Muscovy as a single state. He was the one to come up with the ill-famed statement: “Moscow is the third Rome” (possibly in 1510). Philotheus regarded all history as that of succession to the lasting kingdom of Rome. According to him, there was the old Roman Empire that fell into decay, then the “second Rome,” Constantinople followed suit. But then there was Moscow (not Kyiv) as the only carrier of the “true faith” and inheritor of all the spiritual legacy of Old Rus’: “Our land of Rus’ (Muscovy, in Philotheus’ view. — Author) is expanding, growing younger, and evolving, and it shall do so for ages.” He went on to say that Muscovy was the third and last Rome: “Two Romes fell, the third one stands, and there shall be no fourth one. The Russian tsar was a successor to the emperors of the old and new Rome, therefore he was responsible for his subjects: “In view of this, you oh Tsar, should rule your tsardom with the fear of God in your heart.”

The fear of God (in other words, the fate of an individual at that severe period of strengthening Muscovite autocracy, when no laws were recognized and the name and heritage of Old Rus’ was shamelessly appropriated) is another serious topic that will hopefully broached by The Day. For the moment, let us consider Philotheus’ use of the word combination “the land of Rus’” (rus’ka zemlia). Here the land also means the state and the people. Remarkably, these two key meanings of the word are often identified in both chronicles and official Muscovite documents of the 16th-17th centuries. Meanwhile, even at the epoch, in a number of European countries (England, Sweden, Holland, Switzerland, even in Poland and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania — that included ethnic Ukrainian territories — albeit to a certain extent) the notions of the state and the people were anything but synonymous. Elizabeth I of England, addressing Parliament in 1566, said she and her ministers didn’t always know the truth about what her people wanted; that was the reason behind various misunderstandings, but her government would eliminate such misunderstandings. And so even then there was a line drawn between the state and the people. The kind of state the Ukrainians had to “reunite” with in the 17th-18th century is seen from a rather characteristic example. In 1566, at the peak of the Oprichnina slaughters, Ivan IV convened the Boyar Duma, nominally the supreme legislative and representative body. The Duma members obediently seconded the tsar’s terroristic course, but some had the nerve to humbly request that he suspend, if not stop, the blood-shedding reprisals. All who submitted the petition were arrested, tortured, and executed on the tsar’s orders. Compare this not to the democratic traditions of Zaporozhian Cossack assemblies but to the standing orders of the Rzeczpospolita at the time, with every member of the Sejm having the right to veto any resolution. The difference is noticeable, mildly speaking.

Or take a historically symbolic, as well as politically descriptive, event that took place on Sunday, January 16, 1547, when Grand Duke Ivan Vasilievich became Tsar of Russia (later to become known as Ivan the Terrible). As part of the ceremony, he was clad lavishly decorated clothes and a crown and the world-known Cap of Monomakh (worn by the Moscow rulers only on special occasions as a symbol of imperial power) was placed on his head. This crown is of breathtaking beauty, adorned with a multitude of precious stones, and it served as a symbol of the Moscow princes’ power as successors to the princes of Vladimir, and through them, to those of Kyiv. The grand princes of Moscow claimed they had received it from the grand princes of Vladimir who had received from the grand princes of Kyiv. The first one to wear it was Volodymyr Monomakh, after being formally proclaimed Grand Prince of Kyiv. That was how the imaginary continuity of the grand princes and tsars of Moscow as successors to the rulers of Kyivan Rus’ was symbolically reaffirmed. Remarkably, a number of scholars believe that the Cap of Monomakh was actually made in the Orient, by Bukhara craftsmen, and that Uzbeg Khan of the Golden Horde gave it as a present to Ivan I of Moscow (also known as Ivan Kalita) in the 1320s.

“Moscow received from us the glory and the name of Rus’.” Not coincidentally, the author of the History of the Rus’ People attributes these words to Hetman Ivan Mazepa who rose in arms for Ukrainian independence. A lot of things become understandable after resolving the issue of political birthright.

Ihor SIUNDIUKOV

4 November 2010 The Day