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Antisemitism in Ukraine: A Historical Perspective

Antisemitism in Ukraine: A Historical Perspective

This is an automated translation and may contain inaccuracies. For citation purposes, please refer to the original Russian version.

A historian researching the phenomenon of antisemitism in Ukraine is confronted with an obvious paradox. On the one hand, Ukraine, alongside Poland and Romania, is frequently referred to as a nation with "an appallingly brutal popular antisemitism"—even when contrasted with the popular sentiment in Nazi Germany. One need only recall the scale of anti-Jewish violence on Ukrainian territory—the Khmelnytsky Uprising of 1648, the Haydamak rebellions, the pogroms of 1881 and 1919—and note that Ukraine became one of the principal arenas of the Holocaust to comprehend the origins of this image[1].

On the other hand, Ukrainian history contains instances of a diametrically opposed attitude toward Jews. For example, the legislation of the Ukrainian People's Republic, established in 1917, was among the most liberal regarding Jewish populations compared to neighboring states. Similarly, the stance of the Western Ukrainian People's Republic on the Jewish question may be considered exemplary. Furthermore, between Volodymyr Zelensky's presidential election victory (April 30, 2019) and the resignation of Volodymyr Groysman's cabinet (August 29, 2019), Ukraine was the only country in the world outside of Israel where both the president and the prime minister were Jewish.

Thus, Ukrainian history simultaneously displays stark examples of both militant antisemitism and philosemitism. This coexistence is not inherently paradoxical, but rather reflects Ukrainian ambivalence. For instance, Volodymyr Groysman is a graduate of the notorious Interregional Academy of Personnel Management (MAUP), an institution once distinguished by overt antisemitism. When such occurrences cease to be isolated cases, the situation demands explanation. The following is an attempt at such an analysis, which does not claim to offer an exhaustive and systematic account of "Antisemitism in Ukraine," but rather proposes several theses for discussion.

Let us begin with terminology. Antisemitism is defined as any manifestation of prejudice or hatred toward Jews. As a phenomenon, it has existed since the emergence of the Jewish people; this constitutes antisemitism in the broad sense of the term. Concurrently, there is a narrow definition of antisemitism, signifying a modern ideology and its corresponding political practices. Like other "isms"—such as socialism, liberalism, conservatism, and feminism—antisemitism in this narrow sense emerged in the nineteenth century. Its inception can be conventionally dated to the publication of Wilhelm Marr's pamphlet "The Way to Victory of Germanicism over Judaism" (1879), and its zenith to the ideology and practice of Nazi Germany. Like most ideologies, antisemitism can align with other "isms," ranging from Marxism to Nazism. Consequently, right-wing, left-wing ("progressive"), and liberal varieties of antisemitism are possible. What, however, unifies these manifestations? Like all "isms," it is ideological, meaning it is grounded in rational arguments, even if those arguments sound irrational.

Naturally, from the victim's perspective, the underlying motives for persecution or murder are irrelevant. For academic scholarship, however, this distinction is significant, particularly in the Ukrainian context. My thesis is as follows: Ukrainian history is replete with manifestations of antisemitism in the broad sense of the term, yet features relatively few such occurrences in its narrow, ideological sense. This assertion does not imply an absence of Ukrainian antisemitic texts. Such texts exist, and in substantial numbers.

My study of the works of several left-wing and liberal Ukrainian intellectuals and public figures (such as Ivan Franko, Mykhailo Zubrytsky, and Ivan Lysiak-Rudnytsky) demonstrates that a detailed analysis reveals statements with a distinct antisemitic tone. In independent Ukraine, MAUP published an anthology of antisemitic articles by Ukrainian authors printed before 1914[2]. Yet, it is striking that all these texts remain marginal both within the broader oeuvre of their authors and in Ukrainian intellectual history. In terms of influence, none can be compared to Wilhelm Marr's "The Way to Victory of Germanicism over Judaism" (1879) or Roman Dmowski's "Thoughts of a Modern Pole" (1902)—the manifesto of Polish nationalism with its pronounced antisemitic emphasis.

The sole exception is Dmytro Dontsov's "Nationalism" (1926). Although Dontsov did not join the OUN (Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists) established in 1929, he played a primary role in shaping the worldview of Ukrainian nationalists. Clear antisemitic tendencies are traceable in Dontsov's ideology; however, they are neither systematized nor do they occupy a central position[3]. Calls for the physical elimination of Jews are present in Mykhailo Kolodzinsky's "Military Doctrine of the OUN" (1940), albeit in its unpublished sections[4].

In its ideological orientation, the OUN was closely aligned with fascism. Whether the organization was genuinely fascist remains a subject of academic debate. Be that as it may, while antisemitism is present in the works of many OUN figures, the views of Ukrainian nationalists are not defined by it alone. Indeed, the ideological spectrum of the OUN was remarkably broad, spanning from antisemitism to philosemitism[5].

When analyzing the intellectual history of the Ukrainian national movement, including OUN-style nationalism, unequivocal generalizations are difficult to make; every assertion is met with a caveat. It is more accurate to speak of an evolution: from a relatively low level of antisemitism before the First World War to its sharp escalation during the interwar period. This peaked immediately prior to the Second World War and during its initial years, but the intensity of antisemitism declined once again following the failure of Ukrainian nationalists to extend their influence into Eastern Ukraine. This shift prompted a revision of Ukrainian nationalist ideology toward the concept of a multi-ethnic civic nation, where Jews, alongside other ethnic groups, would have a place. However, this evolution occurred too late, following the tragedy of the Holocaust.

I must emphasize that the weakness of ideological antisemitism does not exonerate Ukrainian nationalism. Ukrainian nationalists participated in anti-Jewish violence, specifically in the Holocaust. This complicity is documented and cannot be justified. We are merely pointing out that there is no direct correlation between ideological antisemitism and anti-Jewish violence. This conclusion is neither new nor original: a similar absence of a direct link between antisemitism and anti-Jewish violence has been observed in other national movements. For instance, it is evident that interwar Polish antisemitism was stronger than its Ukrainian counterpart; consequently, Galician Jews perceived it as the greater threat[6]. Nevertheless, during the war, Polish nationalists did not participate in anti-Jewish actions to the same extent as Ukrainian nationalists, and some Polish antisemites even rescued Jews.

The relative weakness of Ukrainian antisemitism in the narrow sense of the term can be attributed to several factors. First, the history of Ukrainian political thought features few systematic thinkers, with Mykhailo Drahomanov and Viacheslav Lypynsky being notable exceptions. Thus, the absence of major antisemitic texts is due to a general lack of systematic texts on any major issue, including the Jewish question. I propose, however, an additional explanation: the attitude toward Jews among the leaders of the Ukrainian national movement differed significantly from the perception of Jews by Ukrainian society at large. While in the popular consciousness Jews functioned as the "absolute other," in the minds of Ukrainian leaders, this position was firmly occupied by Russians or Poles.

This is corroborated by an analysis of Ukrainian folklore, which reflected a dominant negative image of the Jew. A brief registry of anti-Jewish stereotypes includes the following: Jews are cowardly and inept; they are incapable of performing basic agricultural labor; they have monopolized trade, and because they conduct it dishonestly, "Jew" is synonymous with "swindler"; they are "unclean," as evidenced by their appearance and the alleged prevalence of contagious diseases (primarily "scab").

This enumeration alone suffices to illustrate the insurmountable distance between local Christians and Jews. In the eyes of Ukrainians, the latter appeared almost as a caste, and an untouchable one at that. However, Jews were viewed as a unique caste, positioned not below but above the Christian: they were seen as exceptionally cunning, exploiting peasants for their own gain. The Jew was entirely "other" to the peasant by virtue of religion, the perceived essence of which was the oppression or even murder of Christians. Jews were denied salvation in the afterlife, nor did they deserve Christian sympathy in this world; hence, Ukrainian proverbs were particularly critical of Christians who assisted or served Jews[7].

While the negative image of the Jew was dominant, it was not exclusive. A variety of folk sayings depicted Jews in a neutral, if sometimes mocking, manner. Certain proverbs reflected respect for Jews due to the steadfastness of their faith, and some can even be interpreted as expressions of tolerance. Nonetheless, the overall balance of these stereotypes is dominated by the image of the Jew as the "absolute other"—a person entirely disconnected from, and even hostile to, the Ukrainian peasant. There is no specific national emphasis in these stereotypes; they reflect a pre-national state of consciousness characteristic of a traditional, pre-modern society.

Similar depictions of Jews exist in the folklore of other nations. The closest to the Ukrainian, and the most thoroughly researched, is Polish folklore, a comparison with which reveals shared characteristics. Primarily, we are dealing with a predominantly (though not exclusively) peasant society, where the foundational criterion of identity is honest, arduous physical labor. Consequently, in the peasant consciousness, the world is divided into "Christians" (those engaged in hard labor) and "lords" (landowners and anyone exempt from such labor, with intellectual activity not being recognized as work). This division between "us" and "them" is not strictly dichotomous but rather exists on a broad spectrum, where even a neighboring peasant can be deemed an outsider. Jews occupied the furthest extreme of this spectrum, beyond the lords, differing from the peasant in every respect, particularly in religion (being viewed not merely as non-Christians, but as Christ-killers)[8].

Folklore analysis reveals the chasm that lay between the traditional world of peasants and the modern world of Ukrainian public figures: from the perspective of the former, the latter were "lords" and thus belonged to an adversarial camp. Although Ukrainian culture is often depicted as traditionally peasant, it was actually shaped by the intelligentsia. Research indicates that at the turn of the twentieth century, peasants had difficulty connecting even with a "peasant poet" like Taras Shevchenko[9].

The Ukrainian elite utilized antisemitic imagery to mobilize the peasantry. This is clearly demonstrated in popular publications of the time, such as the Galician "Dzerkalo," "Batkivshchyna," or the interwar "Komar." These were filled with antisemitic stereotypes that were virtually absent in publications intended for a highly educated readership.

These same figures were simultaneously compelled to explain that Jews were not the primary enemy of Ukrainians[10]. That role was assigned to the groups in which the Ukrainian movement saw its main rivals for national self-determination within Ukrainian ethnic territory—namely, Poles (identified with Polish nationalism) and Russians (representing imperial power and Russian nationalism). In this context, Jews were viewed at worst as a "secondary enemy," and at best as an ally, particularly regarding Zionism. Zionism did not contest the territorial claims of the Ukrainian movement, and by transforming Jews into a political nation, it opposed their assimilation into Polish or Russian cultures, thereby preventing the reinforcement of the primary adversaries of the Ukrainian cause. This explains the numerous instances of cooperation between Ukrainian and Zionist figures.

It can be argued that the Ukrainian movement performed an intellectual castling on the chessboard of national politics. Its leaders shifted Jews from the position of "absolute other" in traditional society to that of a secondary enemy or, in certain instances, an ally.

The weakness of Ukrainian antisemitism as an ideology partially explains the paradox outlined at the beginning of this article. This explanation, however, is insufficient, as Ukrainian antisemitism cannot be reduced to stereotypes and ideology. Socio-economic factors played a incomparably greater role in the antagonism between the Jewish and non-Jewish populations than did intellectual or ideological factors[11].

Even this broader research perspective does not exhaust all aspects of the issue. The foundation of the Ukrainian nation was the peasantry, which, contrary to popular belief, is extremely difficult to provoke into violence. Peasants may passively accept the injustice of their world, but a transition to active violence requires a profound crisis[12]. It is notable that all episodes of mass anti-Jewish violence on Ukrainian territory coincided with periods of major political upheaval. These include the crises of authority in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in 1648 and 1768, the assassination of the Russian Emperor in 1881, the revolutions of 1905–1907 and 1917–1920, and the retreat of the Red Army in the summer of 1941.

Allow me to present a single example supporting the thesis that peasants are not easily provoked into massacre. In the early 1880s, anti-Jewish sentiment in the Ukrainian parts of Austrian Galicia was no less widespread than in neighboring Russian provinces. Consequently, mass pogroms of an intensity matching those of 1881 in the Russian Empire were anticipated. These expectations, fortunately, were not realized, as the Austro-Hungarian Empire, unlike the Russian Empire, was not experiencing a political crisis.

Yet, this same territory became the scene of anti-Jewish massacres in the summer of 1941. Although Ukrainian nationalism at the time was compromised by antisemitism, it was directly responsible for only a small portion of the pogroms[13]. In other cases, there is no simple explanation as to why pogroms erupted in those specific regions, other than the fact that they were all swept by a wave of mass violence in the territories between the Baltic and Black Seas that had been occupied by the Red Army in 1939–1940 and subjected to large-scale Soviet repression[14].

If the assumption regarding crisis as the decisive factor in anti-Jewish violence is correct, then the dynamics and intensity of antisemitism in Ukraine depend primarily on political circumstances rather than ideological or economic factors. This, in turn, suggests the dominance of short-term factors over long-term ones.

However, this generalization is only partially accurate, as it overlooks another long-term factor: the geopolitical instability of Ukrainian lands. Following the decline of Kyiv as a geopolitical center in the thirteenth century, these lands, until the declaration of Ukrainian independence, functioned as the borderlands of several states: the Grand Duchy of Lithuania, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, the Russian and Austrian (Austro-Hungarian) Empires, interwar Poland, Romania, Czechoslovakia, the German Reich, and the USSR. This borderland status resulted in a multi-ethnic and multicultural population, leading to the overlapping of geopolitical, political, ethnic, religious, and social conflicts, which transformed Ukrainian lands into an extremely unstable frontier with a high potential for violence.

For example, while between 1914 and 1920 the central authority in the Russian and Austro-Hungarian empires changed once or twice, in Kyiv it changed 11 times, in Lviv 5 times, and at one small railway station during the first half of 1919 alone, it changed 29 times! Every such transition was accompanied by repression and led to the collapse of the state monopoly on violence. This frequency of regime change was driven by a complex web of conflicts:

  • Until the end of 1918, the First World War was ongoing, with Ukraine serving as one of its primary theaters;

  • From late 1918, Ukrainian lands became the arena of the Polish-Ukrainian and Polish-Soviet wars;

  • From 1917, Ukrainian territories were drawn into the sphere of the Russian Revolution and the Russian Civil War;

  • Concurrently, a national liberation struggle was waged on these lands to establish a Ukrainian national state;

  • Within the context of this struggle, a civil conflict occurred between the Ukrainian left and the Ukrainian right;

  • Finally, there was an ongoing peasant war for land, driven by strong social and national motives and characterized by outbursts of antisemitism[15].

Each of these conflicts was interconnected, and collectively they intensified one another, resulting in a state of "war of all against all." The bitter irony is that this conflict reached its peak in 1919, after the conclusion of the First World War. It is no coincidence that this year saw the zenith of anti-Jewish pogroms, occurring under conditions of paralyzed or absent central authority.

A similar "borderland" situation emerged in Ukraine during the Second World War, with the critical difference that one of its primary drivers was an occupying regime committed to the total annihilation of the Jewish population. The Holocaust represented the peak of mass violence on Ukrainian lands, but it was not the sole instance. Between 1932 and 1947, several waves of mass violence swept these territories: the Holodomor of 1932–1933, the mass extermination of Soviet prisoners of war by the Nazis, the Holocaust, the Volhynia massacres of 1943, the deportation of the Crimean Tatars and the Polish population, and finally, Operation Vistula.

The postwar decades brought geopolitical stabilization, which lasted until the collapse of the USSR. The declaration of independent Ukraine marked a new period of stability, interrupted by Russian aggression in 2014. However, the crisis of 1989–1991 and the post-2014 situation differed from both world wars, not only due to the absence of a "hot" war, but also because of the entirely new status of both Ukrainians and Jews and a different balance in their relations. Crucially, Stalin destroyed the traditional Ukrainian village, while Hitler destroyed the world of traditional Eastern European Jewry. Ukrainians became a predominantly urban nation, while Jews became a small minority. Consequently, the roots of the old antagonisms disappeared. This did not, of course, eradicate antisemitism, but it reduced it to a relatively marginal phenomenon.

All these theses, to reiterate, are merely attempts to explain Ukrainian antisemitism within its historical context. They represent hypotheses that require verification through future research. However, if we accept that political circumstances, rather than antisemitic stereotypes or ideology, are of primary importance for the escalation of antisemitism, we are led to a sobering conclusion: there are no guarantees that Ukraine will not again become an arena of intense antisemitism. For instance, should the policies of Volodymyr Zelensky and his administration lead to a decline in living standards or, worse, an acute political crisis, the president's Jewish origins may be invoked, and belief in a "Jewish conspiracy" could gain traction in the country.

In any event, the case of Ukraine demonstrates once again that antisemitism is far too complex and multidimensional a phenomenon for simplistic interpretations. Every such simplified narrative distorts the historical perspective and risks dulling our vigilance in the face of new threats.

[1] Not all antisemitic excesses were related to Ukrainians or the Ukrainian question. For example, the primary perpetrators of the 1881 pogroms were industrial workers, among whom Ukrainians constituted a clear minority. See Omeljan Pritsak, “The Pogroms of 1881”, Harvard Ukrainian Studies, Vol. 11, No. 1/2 (June 1987), p. 8-43.

[2] Panteleimon Kulish, Mykola Kostomarov, Ivan Franko. Zhydotriepanie... Kyiv: MAUP, 2005.

[3] For an exhaustive study of Dmytro Dontsov's ideology, see: Zaitsev O. Natsionalist u dobi fashyzmu. Lvivskyi period Dmytra Dontsova: 1922 — 1939 roky. Nacherk intelektualnoi biohrafii. Kyiv: Krytyka, 2019.

[4] For the publication of the full text, see: Zaitsev O., “Voienna doktryna Mykhaila Kolodzinskoho.” Ukraina Moderna (special issue “Fascism and Right-Wing Radicalism in Eastern Europe”), No. 20, 2013, pp. 245-256. https://uamoderna.com/arkhiv/um-2013-20

[5] Myroslav Shkandrij, Ukrainian Nationalism. Politics, Ideology, and Literature, 1929 — 1956. New Haven & London, Yale University Press, 2015.

[6] This is one of the conclusions of: Christoph Mick, Lemberg, Lwów, L’viv, 1914 — 1947: Violence and Ethnicity in a Contested City. West Lafayette, Ind.: Purdue University Press, 2016.

[7] I presented an overview of these stereotypes in: Hrytsak Ya., Prorok u svoii batkivshchyni: Ivan Franko i ioho spilnota. Kyiv: Krytyka, 2006, pp. 344-345.

[8] Kai Struve, “Gentry, Jews, and Peasants. Jews as Others in the Formation of the Modern Polish Nation in Rural Galicia during the Second Half of the Nineteenth Century”, in: Nancy M. Wingfield, ed., Creating the Other. Ethnic Conflict and Nationalism in Habsburg Central Europe. New York, Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2003, pp. 103-126.

[9] Hrinchenko B., Shevchenkiv “Kobzar” na seli. Kyiv, 1914.

[10] See, for example: Franko I., Radykalna taktyka. Ch. II. Radykaly i zhydy. Lviv, 1898, pp. 9-15.

[11] Slawomir Tokarski, Ethnic Conflict and Economic Development: Jews in Galician Agriculture 1868 — 1914. Warszawa: Wydawnictwo TRIO, 2003; Charters Wynn, Workers, Strikes, and Pogroms. The Donbass-Dnepr Bend in Late Imperial Russia, 1870 — 1905 (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1992).

[12] Eric R. Wolf, “On Peasant Rebellions,” in: Teodor Shanin, ed., Peasants and Peasant Societies. Selected Readings. Second Edition (Oxford, New York: Basil Blackwell, 1987), p. 367.

[13] Jeffrey Kopstein, The Pogroms of 1941 in Western Ukraine. Paper presented at the conference on World War II in Ukraine, Potsdam (Cecilienhof) and Berlin, June 27-30, 2011.

[14] Mark Mazower considers this fact decisive. See: Mark Mazower, Hitler’s Empire. Nazi Rule in Occupied Europe. London, New York: Penguin Books, 2008, p. 178.

[15] The preeminent study of this conflict is: Graziosi A., Bolsheviki i krestianstvo na Ukraine, 1918 — 1919 gody: ocherk o bolshevizmakh, natsional-sotsializmakh i krestianskikh vosstaniiakh. Moscow: Airo-XX, 1997. Notably, the author demonstrates that the term "Zhydokomuna" (Judeo-Bolshevism) was not coined by nationalists or Nazis, but was also employed during peasant uprisings against the Bolsheviks.

The views expressed by the experts do not necessarily reflect the official position of the Institute for Euro-Asian Jewish Studies or the Euro-Asian Jewish Congress.