Something Rotten in the State of Ukraine
by Chad Nagle

AntiWar.com
Dec 9 2004

One of the advantages of writing anonymous editorials is that you can
wantonly spew forth bile without worrying about anyone pointing the
finger at you individually. In the Dec. 2 issue of the pro-Yushchenko
English-language Kyiv Post newspaper, an editorial entitled “An
Orange March East” featured the following passage:

“What should Viktor Yushchenko and his team do next? Go east. One of
the many positive things this presidential election has done is
remind people in cosmopolitan Kyiv of the Appalachian levels of
ignorance and alienation that remain in Luhansk, Donetsk, and other
hardscrabble parts of Ukraine’s industrial east – in Viktor
Yanukovych country, in other words. The so-called Donbas – a massive
ghetto full of miners and steelers exploited, robbed, and manipulated
by the region’s presiding tycoons and Soviet-style government bosses
– might as well have a fence around it, sealing it off from the
country its citizens are instructed to distrust. Fed lies by the
media, isolated and undereducated and saturated with leftover Soviet
propaganda, many Donbas residents seem really to believe that
Yushchenko is an American puppet, set on enslaving them in the name
of Yankee imperialism and the CIA; that western Ukrainians are
fascists bent on eliminating the Russian language; and the like.”

The first thing I thought as I read this was: the poor people of the
Appalachians. Myself a native of Virginia, I had many times driven
around the Appalachians, enjoying not only the scenery but also the
warmth and hospitality of the native inhabitants. I could only wonder
what the “hardscrabble” folk of the Appalachians would make of such
cosmopolitan, urbanite-sophisticate commentary from faraway fellow
Americans.

The next thing that sprang to my mind was the tone of hatred running
through the piece, which I read immediately on my return from
Ukraine’s three eastern-most regions of Donetsk, Lugansk, and
Kharkov. Far from a “massive ghetto,” my discovery was a relatively
prosperous region densely scattered with economically active cities,
which, I could tell through the layer of sleet and snow, were
remarkably clean. Traveling by road through the area, I noticed that
even villages were well-kept, and the complexes around the huge mines
and industrial enterprises were pristine and affluent looking. I even
stopped off for a night in the town of Gorlovka at the suggestion of
someone I’d met in Kiev, a 24-year-old who had moved to the capital
from Donetsk region a couple of years earlier. With a look in his
eyes apparently intended to convey Apocalypse Now-type horror, he
told me of a sprawling “worker colony” – more populous than Kiev –
that I had to see to believe. What I found was a fairly typical,
small Soviet-era city where all the lights were on, shops were full,
and my hotel – the Rodina – cost $20 a night for a Euro-renovated
room with cable TV that showed all the main “opposition channels.”
The friends of the Donetsk émigré were nice enough young chaps who
met me at my hotel and took me to their favorite bar. It wasn’t my
sort of place – an alternative rock bar with entranced
twenty-somethings swaying to and fro – but I was preoccupied with the
revelation that, while Gorlovka might conceivably have been a
nightmare when the young émigré still lived there, in November 2004 I
could have been inside a bar in a working-class neighborhood on the
outskirts of Pittsburgh – hardly Kurtz’s Horror.

I had visited eastern Ukraine two and a half years earlier, going to
Kharkov for the parliamentary elections in March 2002, then visiting
Donetsk in April. Kharkov was an almost unspeakably foul dump with
garbage strewn everywhere, miserable looking inhabitants, and a
forlorn and crumbling old town. In “Freedom Square,” formerly Lenin
Square, the huge statue of Lenin gestured down toward the makeshift
go-cart course some enterprising individuals had set up, using old
tires to create the boundary of the racetrack. Donetsk was the best
put-together city I had visited in my travels outside Kiev in 2002,
including jaunts to destitute western Ukraine. Lenin presiding over a
depressing little “fun fair” in the central square put a damper on
things, as did the endless commercial billboards (like in Kiev), but
in 2002 the natives expressed no problems with infrastructure – gas,
water, and electricity were in abundant supply, unlike in the west.

By late 2004, the area had clearly undergone a striking
transformation in the previous two years, much as central Ukraine
had. When I arrived in late October for the first round of the
presidential election, it was obvious Kiev was doing better in
material terms. Trips to Zhitomir (notoriously one of the worst-off
districts in Ukraine) and Chernigov conveyed similar impressions:
Ukraine had never been doing so well economically since I had started
visiting the place in 1992. The filth of Kharkov was gone, its
now-spotless subway system having received a facelift, although the
monitors in each station playing pop videos were a bore. Historic
buildings were repainted and renovated. In Donetsk, Lenin Square was
unrecognizable except for the statue. The fun fair was no more, and
nearby was a beautifully renovated opera house where the charming
chief administrator – Tatiana Melnikova – took me on a tour and told
me in glowing terms of how much had been done for culture and the
arts during Yanukovich’s tenure as governor. She had been commission
chairman for the polling station housed in the theater, and tried to
convince me that, while the 96% for Yanukovich in the area may have
seemed ridiculous, she knew her neighbors. Their massive turnout was
not out of pressure from any authorities. It was more out of fear –
the fear of people who feel they actually have something to lose.

Why were things so visibly better? Dare it be suggested there is more
than coincidence in the fact that the period in question – coinciding
with the tenure of Viktor Yanukovich as premier – has been a time of
gently-accelerating economic reintegration with Russia? Could it be
that this reintegration has accrued to the benefit of ordinary
Ukrainians? Proponents of Ukraine’s “integration with Euro-Atlantic
structures” might get red in the face about this (I hope so), but it
feels very natural that Ukraine should benefit as a whole from closer
ties to Moscow. After all, trying to “tear away” a state that has
been closely economically integrated with Russia for its entire
existence – as our more fierce Western commentators advocate – could
not but cause serious harm to the lives of that state’s ordinary
citizens. But then, maybe these people aren’t cosmopolitan enough to
matter.

Some might argue that ripping Ukraine away from Russia is stern
medicine that must be administered if Ukraine is ever to become a
true democracy and “civil society.” Listening to the “opposition” and
its foreign supporters, one would think the place has turned into a
tyrannical despotism worse than at any time since the break-up of the
USSR. But having taken a close look at how people in Ukraine live
relative to the rest of the ex-Soviet bloc, one can only describe the
line that eastern Ukrainians are “fed lies by the media, isolated and
undereducated and saturated with leftover Soviet propaganda” as the
rant of adolescents, or liars, or both.

That isn’t to say everything is perfect in Ukraine. Of course it
isn’t. Plenty of corruption here as elsewhere (e.g., Poland and
Lithuania), but things are getting better – politically and
economically – and that is what the West can’t tolerate. Because when
things improve, people become happier, and sovereignty, democracy,
and the rule of law become strengthened. The economy flourishes in an
atmosphere of greater order, and a potential regional “rival” starts
to emerge. That’s what is happening in Ukraine. President Leonid
Kuchma was once feted by the West and promised more financial aid for
Ukraine – in real terms – than for Russia, at a time when mob murders
in Ukraine were at an all-time high and the name “Ukraine” was almost
synonymous in the world with the term “corruption.” By 2004, with
things starting to look up and life achieving some stability, Kuchma
and his government had to be removed and replaced by – to use the
Kyiv Post’s words – an American puppet.

Formally, this does in fact have something to do with democracy and
the rule of law: you have an election, you have accusations of fraud,
you have thousands of people blocking traffic and public areas in
central Kiev on a daily basis, and you have an “Orange Revolution.”
It’s “democratic” because it’s on behalf of a mythical majority of
“The People.” You keep the accusations of falsification going and
pretty soon the charges themselves become Truth. You assume massive
falsification until no one questions it any more, and those making
the charges become the heroes, democracy’s rebels fighting the
tyranny. Finally, you get a craven-looking “supreme court” (rule of
law) overturning the results of the election (democracy), and the
whole world can see democracy’s formal triumph. So you have a happy
ending: Democracy and the Rule of Law forever.

I rather feel I shouldn’t mention it but, assuming for the sake of
argument that “democracy” really is winning – that a majority of the
electorate really supports the leader of the Orange Revolution – the
concept of the “rule of law” must surely be on very shaky footing
worldwide. The West does sometimes refer to the rule of law, but it
is never expounded on. Some of the teachers in my law school used to
pay lip service to the idea, but our leaders in the West don’t like
to talk about it as much as democracy or “freedom,” George W. Bush’s
favorite term.

Georgia’s “Rose Revolution” is a good test case for studying the rule
of law. Exactly one year prior to the second round of the Ukrainian
presidential election, an armed mob stormed the Georgian parliament
building and a trembling President Eduard Shevardnadze – supported
and rewarded carte blanche by the West for more than eight years from
1992-2000 – fled in fear. On the eve of the Georgian presidential
election of January 2004, candidate Mikheil Saakashvili
(Shevardnadze’s former close lieutenant) appeared on TV (in violation
of the election law) to urge people to vote in the presidential
election on Jan. 4. He declared the need to “legitimize our victory
in the eyes of the world” – i.e., his victory wasn’t “legitimate”
yet. The “extra-constitutional” power transfer had to be
“legitimized” with an election. As it turned out, Saakashvili won
almost 97% of the vote in a poll in which the Central Election
Commission (CEC) estimated an 83% turnout. In reality, hardly anyone
showed up on the day, but “legitimacy” had been achieved and, so, the
rule of law had prevailed.

Now we have another “legitimizing” exercise. Viktor Yushchenko and
his Orange Tide scored a victory – after occupying public areas in
Kiev and blocking access to state buildings – when an evidently
bought-and-paid-for supreme court ruled on Dec. 3 that the second
round of the 2004 presidential elections had to be held again because
of “massive falsification.” The court didn’t order a re-run of the
whole election, even though it received evidence that in western
Ukraine – Yushchenko country – 100% of ballots had been cast for
Yushchenko in several precincts. This was when 24 candidates were
competing. One would have thought that, at very least, the
representatives of the other candidates on the commissions in these
polling stations, as well as other candidates’ observers, would have
voted for their guy. Unless, that is, they didn’t really represent
anyone but Yushchenko to begin with, which means the so-called
“regime” had no one looking out for procedural fairness on its behalf
at all. But the first round wasn’t important because Yushchenko had
already made it through to the second round, so why risk putting him
up against the whole range of original contestants?

It was also no matter that – much like the November 2003
parliamentary election in Georgia – the 2004 elections in Ukraine
were probably the most procedurally correct, orderly, and clean in
the history of post-Soviet Ukraine. In the places where I observed, I
did so randomly, and had no reason to believe I had stumbled into
pockets of law and order while ballot-stuffing mania was happening
everywhere else. The important thing was that Yushchenko had come out
a loser, and Washington had invested too much in the ex-Gosbank USSR
official – a perfect Sorosian New World Order candidate – to accept
that the provincial Viktor Yanukovich may (God forbid) have actually
enjoyed more support than Yushchenko among the citizenry. It was time
to get the grungy punks into the streets, get the “Rock the Vote”
concert going, and jam the center of the capital (with the help of
the city government) until the right result was obtained. This mob
was the “cosmopolitan” Kievans, more sophisticated and cultured than
their compatriots from Donetsk and Lugansk. They cheered on the usual
array of depressing rock and rap, Mahler and Wagner being
conspicuously left off the repertoire, and the ubiquitous orange lent
a Satanic air to the festival, with Viktor Yushchenko’s disfigured
face a Halloween mask under the stage lights. The favorite chant of
the mob: “We are many, and you will not defeat us” (i.e., “My name is
Legion, for we are many”). Images from Channel 5, the Ukrainian
version of Soros-financed Rustavi-2 TV in Georgia, would provide all
the images the world needed to believe that a spontaneous nationwide
revolution was taking place. Those Appalachian-level ignoramuses from
the more populated eastern and southern areas … well, they could go
to Hell.

So what were the protesters in the east like? Not terribly
impressive, to be honest, although the crowds at the demonstrations I
briefly attended in Donetsk and Lugansk looked no more disreputable,
ignorant, or uncultured than their cosmopolitan counterparts in Kiev.
There were too many leather jackets for my liking, but their wearers
looked like average working-class stiffs in duffle coats and woolen
hats as opposed to high-brow Kievan fashion victims sporting their
own, more cosmopolitan leather garments. People of all ages packed
into Lenin Square in Donetsk to hear the various speakers denounce
the “orange orgy” going on in Kiev, the CIA, etc. It was almost
unbearably cold, making it a wonder that a crowd of 5,000-plus could
stand out there for so many hours. After all, they were essentially
preaching to the converted. They didn’t need to block public areas to
get their way. In Lugansk, about the same number packed the square in
front of the Taras Shevchenko statue on the evening of Dec. 1 to hear
a series of speakers denounce the American-financed “coup” that was
already “winning,” and to say that Ukraine now faced the same fate as
“Serbia and Georgia.” These Donbas residents seemed “really to
believe” this stuff! People in “cosmopolitan Kiev” know it’s all just
the ranting of Appalachians “saturated with leftover Soviet
propaganda.”

That said, after I took time to talk to officials in Donetsk,
Lugansk, and Kharkov, I was sadly left with the distinct impression
that the “frightening” Soviet holdover areas of eastern Ukraine were
not about to threaten the “eastern march” of the New World Order.
Accusations of “separatism” sprang up after a congress of
pro-Yanukovich officials from 14 of Ukraine’s 27 regions was held in
the eastern city of Severodonetsk on Nov. 28. I watched the congress,
and do not remember a single speaker calling for “independence” or
“secession.” Viktor Yushchenko and his supporters found it
advantageous to demand prosecution for the “separatists,” but there
was nothing of the kind on offer in Severodonetsk on Nov. 28.
Yanukovich himself made a speech calling on his supporters to refrain
from “radical acts,” observe the law, and respect the constitution.
In fact, some of the officials simply spoke of the right to raise the
issue of “autonomy” (a vaguely defined concept) in light of the
actions of the pro-Yushchenko mob in Kiev. It was all nebulous waffle
about Ukraine’s constitutional structure, but never came close to
advocating civil war.

The head of the pro-Yanukovich “Party of the Regions” in Donetsk,
Alexander Bobkov, told me his party had always favored more rights
and powers for the regions vis-à-vis the center. It didn’t make sense
for people in Kiev to allocate funds from the budget to the regions
while retaining the power to specify how those funds were spent.
Kiev-based officials were unlikely to know how best to dispose of
resources in the region in question, since each region had its own
strengths and weaknesses (yawn). The Party of the Regions supported
Yanukovich because he personified the “opposition” (!) to current
state policy, and had always advocated devolution of power to the
regions. However, Bobkov didn’t even go so far as to advocate
replacement of the unitary state with a federal model, meaning that
his party’s position ultimately represented little more than the
usual tinkering characteristic of limp-wristed reformers.

In Lugansk, the head of the internal affairs department of the
regional administration, Vladimir Zablodsky, engaged in similar
waffle for my benefit. He seemed almost apologetic as he explained
that it would be “unheard of for a region not to support its native
son,” so Donetsk and Lugansk really had voted 90-something percent
for Yanukovich. He explained that a “Soviet” mentality still
prevailed in the east to the extent that, well, people expected to
work until retirement and then collect their pensions(!), and they
voted Soviet-style as well, as if in huge “blocks” – like block
voting by labor unions in the West. Zablodsky looked vaguely
embarrassed for some reason, but the pivotal moment in our talk came
when I asked whether people realized they had something to lose. The
West would operate very fairly: it would come in, offer to buy up
enterprises for a song, then shut them down once they were
“privatized,” putting millions out of work. The region would suffer,
but it would all be fair because the “free market” and “freedom”
would be working. This appeared to register briefly with Zablodsky
before his eyes glazed over, and for a moment I almost thought I
could see the dollar signs ring up in his eyes as he said: “But …
moshnii kapital.” “Powerful capital” was the point. When the
privatizers arrived they would, after all, pay for the resources. It
wouldn’t be much relative to actual value, of course, but it would
certainly be enough for regional government officials to benefit
handsomely. As for ordinary workers and pensioners, well…. Our
conversation was over.

As I headed off to Kharkov, I started to sense the plot becoming
clearer. The Ukrainian government had fixed the country up
handsomely, like a homeowner fixing up his house for the market. The
current, post-election crisis period was “Let’s Make a Deal” time,
and apparatchiks all over Ukraine were drooling at the thought of the
Western takeover, the American puppet in the top slot ensuring that
the fire sale went off without a hitch. Statements by Kuchma and
Yanukovich after the mob started filling Independence Square on Nov.
21 – that everything must proceed through “negotiations” – took on
new meaning. “Negotiations” would be over the “price” of the
Ukrainian presidency. All the talk about Yanukovich as pro-Russian
authoritarian was hot air. Quite the opposite, Yanukovich was the
soft-in-the-middle ex-Party man, and no Lukashenko in Belarus. He
might have proven himself a competent administrator who had presided
over the betterment of ordinary people’s lives, but he could be
relied on to serve as the more naïve, popular candidate who would
ultimately take the fall, fulfilling the Party’s will.

Everything was going according to plan. Soon the OSCE would succeed
in removing the chairman and deputy chairman of the CEC and imposing
more outside control on Ukraine’s electoral process. It was not a
total victory for the OSCE, not yet, since the original demand had
been a replacement of the entire CEC and all the regional election
commissions. But then, Ukraine has nothing to fear from increased
OSCE involvement, since the OSCE is a “European” organization and, of
course, completely objective. Everyone wants to belong to the OSCE,
just ask Tatiana Prosekina, head of the Secretariat of the Kharkov
District Soviet. She told me she had met with several OSCE
representatives before and during the election. On the subject of
Viktor Yushchenko’s demand that the OSCE administer (not merely
observe) repeat elections, Ms. Prosekina said that if Yushchenko had
so little respect for his own people that he would recommend that
outsiders control the electoral process, “Who needs him?” But, she
added, she had “no evidence” the West was disappointed by
Yushchenko’s electoral loss, and at this she diverted her glance down
toward the desk. She’d make a perfect OSCE official one day.

So the stage is set for a happy ending to the Orange Revolution.
Yanukovich has said he will compete in the third round, and may now –
buoyed by the taste of victory – really believe he can win. It
doesn’t look encouraging that his campaign manager, Sergei Tygipko,
resigned and appeared on TV with members of his until-recently
pro-government party, wearing orange and congratulating each other on
their conversion to the forces of freedom. Likewise, Yanukovich’s
decision to portray Yushchenko as a representative of the “old
authorities,” and himself as the candidate of the “new power,” does
not offer much hope. In a sense, Yanukovich is a “new power,” in that
he is from Donetsk, not Dnepropetrovsk, origin of most of the
post-Soviet Ukrainian political elite (including gas queen Yulia
Tymoshenko) until now. But Yushchenko is far worse than the “old
authorities,” since his presidency would be something “new” to
Ukrainians: total collapse. If, by some fluke, Yanukovich managed to
win what promises to be a chaotic shambles of a third round (i.e., a
return to the conditions of previous polls in Ukraine), then the tall
man from Donetsk could look forward to a Western bid to remove him
from office à la Rolandas Paksas of Lithuania, on trumped-up charges
of corruption. He would then be replaced by Yushchenko, U.S.-backed
counterpart of unpopular septuagenarian President Valdus Adamkus, in
Kiev so much lately to lecture the Ukrainian leadership about
democracy and the rule of law.

Then it will be on to the next Victory of the People somewhere else.
As Mrs. Tymoshenko has promised: “As soon as our Orange Revolution
has been completed, we’ll transfer it to Russia.” Some opposition
politician in Armenia recently referred to a coming “Apricot
Revolution” in his country. I’m not sure how the Azeris will take
this, since I remember about 10 years ago they used to tell me the
best apricots in the world grew in Azerbaijan, not Armenia. The
Azeris may feel slighted, but why not go for something a bit more
unusual, say, a Persimmon Revolution? In any case, for some reason
the Directors of the New World Order have chosen brand names of
fruits, flowers, and nuts for their various enterprises so we’ll have
to wait and see. How sad, though, that far from bringing forth the
flavors and scents of a lustrous spring, it all smells rotten and
tastes rancid.

–Boundary_(ID_wYbxkLuMFOAJjIZ/M0X2gw)–