Russkiy Mir and “historical truth”

The Russian language is a highly politicized issue in the post-Soviet context, and Russian authorities often refer to it particularly with regard to Ukraine. The Russian language is at the same time the most important element constituting modern Russian state ideology, the ideology of Russkiy Mir [“The Russian World” or “Russian Peace”].¹ The most important element of Russkiy Mir was officially formulated several years before the ideology and the program received their of-ficial name. At a conference on “The Russian Language on the Boundary of Millennia,” Putin’s wife Lyudmila declared in her speech:

“The confirmation of the borders of the Russian world is also the assertion and strengthening of Russia’s national interests. The Russian language unifies the people of the Russian world — the aggregate of those who speak and think in that language. The borders of the Russian world extend along the borders of Russian-language usage” (“Gorham”: 28).

An article reporting on Lyudmila Putin’s speech was titled “A population of 288 million,” i.e., it referred to 288 million people who allegedly regard Russian as their native language (“Gorham”: 6). Subsequently, Mrs. Putin became director of the “Center for the Development of the Russian Language.” Mr. Putin, then Russian President, declared 2007 the “Year of the Russian Language,” and several post-Soviet countries followed him (“Torhovets”).

In June 2007, Putin officially created the Russkiy Mir Foundation [“Fond Russkiy Mir”] by presidential decree (“Azar”). Many experts agreed that this organization is “perhaps the most concerted effort to date at conceptualizing a notion of ‘Russianness’ [russkost’] that transcended ethnic bloodlines and geographical boundaries” (“Gorham”: 30). At the same time, it was clear from the outset that the Russkiy Mir Foundation was not merely a cultural institution, but first and foremost a tool of Russian politics. To begin with, plans for its foundation had clearly been “hatched very closely with, if not within, the Kremlin itself” (“Gorham”: 30–31). Moreover, as Michael Gorham argues,

in his 2007 annual address to the Duma, where Putin first formally introduced the concept, he echoed Soviet language policy when he declared that “Russian is the language of an historic brotherhood of peoples, a language truly of international communication. It is not only the preserver of an entire stratum of truly global accomplishments, but also the living space [zhivoe prostranstvo] for the many-millioned Russian world, which, of course, is significantly broader than Russia herself” (“Gorham”: 31).

Putin continued that “the Russian language, as a common good of many peoples, will never become a language of hatred and hostility, xenophobia or isolationism” (“Tishkov”). He obviously implied that other languages were precisely of that ilk. Given the long Russian and Soviet tradition of branding anything Ukrainian as either “separatist” or “nationalist” or “bourgeois nationalist” or “fascist,” it was clear that the Ukrainian language ranked on top of that list. […]

As for Russkiy Mir’s broader ideological foundations, an article by one of its masterminds, Valeriy Tishkov, deserves particular attention. In 2007, as director of the Institute of Ethnology and Anthropology of the Russian Academy of Sciences and corresponding member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, Tishkov published a paper on Russkiy Mir’s website (“Tishkov”).² Characteristically enough, he started his outline by quoting Vladimir Putin’s above-cited words on Russkiy Mir. Tishkov then continued that “by far not all states and peoples succeed in generating the phenomenon of a global outreach that one could call ‘a world,’ i.e., a community transcending states and continents [Russian “трансгосударственным и трансконтинентальным сообществом,” italics in the original] that is united by its adherence to a certain state and its loyalty toward its culture” (ibid.). According to Tishkov, except for Russia, only “Spain, France and China” “have at their disposal” [Russian “обладают”] “such worlds.” He obviously tried to play down, in a traditional Cold War-like manner, the role of the English-speaking world when he added en passant, “Perhaps, Ireland together with Great Britain” (ibid.).

Tishkov further argued that the Russian diaspora, regardless of its ethnic background, “becomes precisely a Russian diaspora” “because it perceives and recreates its unity in the external world on the basis of its major distinctive cultural feature, that is, on the basis of the Russian language” (ibid.). Tishkov’s emphasis on the Russian language was very strong. In his view, those who lose it usually “lose their adherence to Russkiy Mir” (ibid.). Consequently, as he argued, while again alluding to anti-Western and, in fact, anti-Semitic stereotypes,

a descendant of those Russians or Jews who left Russia before or after the Revolution of 1917 who has assimilated into the linguistic and social milieu of other countries cannot be regarded as part of the Russian world (“частью Русского мира”) even if the desire for making easy money in reforming Russia has motivated him to remember and declare his (or her) Russianness while establishing a joint firm or concluding business contracts (ibid.).

Only those should be regarded as “an indisputable part of the Russian world […] who left the country in different historical periods and preserved their command of the Russian language, and at the same time, loyalty and adherence to Russia of various degrees” (ibid.).

Precisely the Russian language and the Russophone Russian or Soviet culture, together with [its] historical memory, unite and build this world (ibid.).

As loyalty toward Russia — in the sense of official Russia — is regarded as an important trait of Russkiy Mir, Tishkov suggested that those Russians of Latvia and Estonia who took part in public demonstrations for the independence of their republics or voted for the removal of the monument to the Soviet soldier in Estonia cannot be regarded as part of Russkiy Mir (ibid.). Moreover, Tishkov referred to White Russian emigrants who fled the Bolshevik Revolution and used the opportunity to polemicize in a most interesting way against “the radical refutation of the entire Soviet period as a certain historical anomaly” (ibid.). Subsequently, the author slightly modified Vladimir Putin’s statement that the breakup of the Soviet Union “was really a geopolitical cata-clysm” (ibid.). He added that this “cataclysm” “particularly affected the Russian people” (ibid.) owing to “titular nationalisms” in independent post-Soviet countries and argued that mass violations of human rights had occurred there, especially in the field of politics and language, with “open support by the international community” (ibid.). Tishkov harshly criticized the fact that Russians were “downgraded” “to the category of ‘national minorities,’” claimed that “the language of the majority or almost half of the population of the new countries was severely punished,” and stated that “half of the tax payers in Latvia, Ukraine, Kyrgystan, Kazakhstan, and Moldova could not gain the right that new state bureaucracies speak their language” (ibid.). In his view, “the world” accepted “this usurpation of ethnolinguistic rights” only “for political reasons,” because it attempted to distance the successor states of the Soviet Union from Russia. At the same time, this chief ideologist of Russkiy Mir was convinced:

Without any doubt, the representatives of other nationalities, including even representatives of the titular nationalities, many of whom do not know any language except Russian, and want to link their fate with Russia, do belong to Russkiy Mir (ibid.). […] But it is the Russians who unanimously constitute the foundations of the new (nearer) Russian World³. The breakup of the Soviet Union gave them three variants of survival strategies: assimilation into the titular culture and language, emigration to Russia, or the defense of their equal status in the new community (ibid.).⁴ […]

Tishkov concluded with an interesting discussion of the strategies which Russia should employ in its identity politics regarding the Russian diaspora. With regard to Estonia and Latvia, he believed that the idea of a Russian political nation consisting of the various peoples of Russia should be promoted. Concerning Ukraine or Kazakhstan, however, “where ethno-nationalism is just gaining strength and where the striking majority of the Russian diaspora is made up of ethnic Russians, the Russian ethnic variant can be preferable” (ibid.). Thus, Tishkov suggested an openly “nationalist” strategy regarding Ukraine and Kazakhstan. […]

Russkiy Mir did not just supply the minorities in post-Soviet countries with Russian textbooks, but also used this aid to disseminate “correct” “information on historical events for the children of compatriots” and help the minorities develop their political activities. Moreover, Russkiy Mir set out to “repatriate” 5–6 million people into the Russian Federation, but stopped the program since only between 5,000 and 7,000 people were actually willing to relocate (“Torhovets,’” “Putin zmitsniuvatyme”).

Aside from economic pressure, it is history politics, identity politics, and language politics — with all three spheres often intertwined — that have played a crucial role in Russian politics regarding the post-Soviet sphere. Vladimir Putin himself declared on 12 January 2012 during a session of the Russian government:

“I would like to touch upon another item on the agenda, namely the strengthening of contacts in the humanities sphere with our partners in Ukraine. We should discuss an agreement that will strengthen the juridical base for the work of Russian informational-cultural centers in Ukraine and, vice versa, Ukrainian ones in Russia […] The volume of our relations in the spheres of trade and economy is big, the level of our cooperation is deep, but, as you and I understand, we are living under market conditions, and every country protects its interests. […] Of course, all this has to be done and is being done in terms of partnership, but there are much deeper and more important issues, and this refers to our historical roots, as well as our common culture. And these centers are challenged to strengthen precisely this direction of our mutual actions to enrich the spectrum of our relations with our most important partner, with our truly brotherly neighboring republic — Ukraine (“Putin prodovzhyt’”).

Back in 2006, a certain Innokentiy Andreev had put forth in a much more straightforward manner somewhat similar ideas while describing the concept of “a humanities scholarly structure in East Ukraine—a Russian Institute” in an article tellingly titled “The Russian language as a shield and a sword”:

In recent times Russian elites have used their leverage in energy to strengthen their impact in the international arena. But this leverage is obviously insufficient because the factors of language and culture remain beyond attention. Of the Russian language and culture. The Russian language is one of the most powerful instruments that has remained for Russia a heritage of the USSR. Language is the main factor defining identity in the post-Sovet space. The adoption of Russian is the first step to “Russification” [Russian “обрусение”], to the adoption of an identity that is the least in conflict with the Russian state. Accordingly, nationalist projects in the space of the former Soviet Union have been striving and are striving to weaken this instrument, and efforts at its weakening are s i m i l a r  to  e f f o r t s  f o r  f i n d i n g  a l t e r n a t i v e  s o u r c e s  of  e n e r g y  s u p p l y (“Andreev”; emphasis in original).

Andreev then offered an intriguing assessment of the so-called “Ukrainianization” of the Yushchenko period and of the role of the Ukrainian language, which he, most interestingly, labeled “as a marker visibly explaining why Ukraine is independent” (ibid.):

First, the Ukrainianization of the central regions of Ukraine has already more or less been accomplished. Moreover, there has appeared a Ukrainophone educated political class that has adopted an identity hostile to Russia and lacking any Soviet social levelling in the spirit of century-long friendship of the Russian and Ukrainian peoples. Second, the Ukrainianization of the south-eastern territories of Ukraine has failed owing to the weakness of Ukraine, and not at all owing to the “heroic resistance” of the Russian-speaking population. […] Literature and customs are an archaic issue that does not concern everyday life, but language is actively employed in everyday life. The integration into Russia is not necessary for ANYBODY from the Ukrainian elite. Therefore odnomovnist’ [the Ukrainian word is used in the Russian-language context; M.M.] will persist until the end (ibid.; emphasis in the original).

Andreev described the National University of Kyiv Mohyla Academy as “a project” dangerous to “Russian influence in the intellectual sphere” because this institution offers high-quality education in Ukrainian and English, but not in Russian. Alerted by this development, he suggested the creation of a “Russian Institute” in Eastern Ukraine that would be able to compete with the Kyiv Mohyla Academy and hire staff that should “lack the traditional prejudices of the intelligentsia to collaborate with the government [the Russian government, of course; M.M.]” (ibid.). The main focus of such a center was to be on “the Russian language in Ukraine” and “social factors of its functioning” (ibid.). Interestingly, Andreev’s article was published by Russia’s “Political News Agency,” an organization sponsored by the “Institute for National Strategy.”⁵

Not only is language an important part of Russia’s national strategy, but also history and memory politics. Most notably, on 15 May 2009 then Russian President Dmitriy Medvedev issued a decree that led to the creation of a “Presidential Commission of the Russian Federation to Counter Attempts to Falsify History to the Detriment of Russia’s Interests” (“Presidential Commission”),⁶ whose aim was to “defend Russia against falsifiers of history and those who would deny the Soviet contribution to the victory in World War II” (“Ukaz Prezidenta”). […]

Medvedev’s commission ceased to exist only on 14 February 2012 (“Presidential Commission”).⁷ The attitude of official Russia toward its Soviet and Stalinist past has, however, remained unchanged. First and foremost, the Kremlin established an organization that partly pursues identical goals. On 22 June 2010, notably at a conference in Kyiv, the “government-organized non-governmental organization” “World Without Nazism” was established by “the Kremlin-connected mini-oligarch” (“Zaitchik”) Boris Shpigel’, who is, according to the “Jewish Chronicle,” “firmly in the pro-Putin camp” (“Pfeffer”). In its annual report for 2010, the Estonian security police aptly characterized the organization “World Without Nazism” as follows:

The organisation, which claims to unite all anti-fascists of the world, has decided to closely link the Holocaust, the Nuremberg trials and other key historical events with a Soviet-era approach to World War II. The aim is to create an unusual situation according to which questioning Moscow’s version of history is equated with denial of the Holocaust and the results of the Nuremberg trials. This is quite an effective means for Russia to spread and strengthen its positions. According to the World Without Nazism, the most extensive state-supported falsification of history and glorification of Nazism is taking place in Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Ukraine. The movement also has focused the bulk of its activities on these countries (“Security Police”: 13; original in English). […]

Official Russia’s impact on Ukraine and Ukrainians

Over the past two decades, Vladimir Putin, Moscow’s former mayor Yuriy Luzhkov⁸ and others have repeatedly referred to the Russian population of Ukraine as a population of about 17 million instead of 17% (“Diachenko”). […]

On 6 June 2011, Dmitriy Medvedev, President of the Russian Federation, issued an Ukaz proclaiming the “Day of the Russian Language” in Russia. In this decree, Medvedev emphasized that the Russian language is an “all-national achievement” of all peoples of the Russian Federation. He also declared that each and every year, the Russian Federation will spend 25 billion Russian rubles for the de-velopment of the Russian language in the Russian Federation (“Mykhelson Pered Pushkinym,” “6 chervnia khochut’”). But money for the development of Russian has not been allotted for use in the Russian Federation alone. On 24 March 2011, Viktor Sorokin, Director of the Institute of the CIS Countries, stated that the Russian Federation had spent more than 1.2 million USD for the support of “compatriots” in Ukraine (“MZS RF: nikhto”), and as for 2012–2014, Russia planned to spend 46 million USD for supporting 8 million so-called “compatriots” worldwide, with considerable funds allotted to Ukraine (“Putin zmitsniuvatyme”).

On 12 February 2011, Russian sponsors, including the organization “Rossotrudnichestvo,” decided that all Russian funding for “compatriots” in Ukraine would be distributed via the “All-Ukrainian Coordination Council of the Organizations of Russian compatriots.” This organization, which serves as an umbrella for several others, is currently headed by Vadym Kolesnichenko, a member of Ukraine’s ruling Party of Regions, who is one of the major spokesmen for the Russian cause in Ukraine and the leading figure in the sphere of language legislation under Viktor Yanukovych (“Duda Ihry”; on Kolesnichenko see chapter 5).

Support for Russians and the Russian language in Ukraine comes from various sources. In October 2011, at a conference “On the Status of Russian in Foreign Countries” held in Moscow, reporters from the Ukrainian news agency UNIAN asked Aleksandr Chepurin of the Department for Cooperation with Compatriots Abroad whether Russia was ready to support “compatriots” and the Russian language, for instance, by reducing the price on gas for Ukraine (ibid.). Chepurin answered:

“This is an incorrect interpretation of the issue when someone has to pay for something in his own country. This is their language, these are Russians who have lived there for one thousand years, and they have the right to use this language. To raise the issue that someone has to pay so that Russians may use the Russian language in Ukraine is just ridiculous” (ibid.).

Chepurin did add, however, that a number of foundations designed for the support of the Russian language exist, such as the Russkiy Mir Foundation, the foundation Rossotrudnichestvo, the program “The Russian language,” and others (ibid.). […]

The ultimate turn — Ukrainians as Russians

[…] In May 2010, e. g., Konstantin Zatulin declared on TV that “Ukrainians are Russians living at the periphery” (“Kakoi-to Zatulin”), and in June 2010, the Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary Ambassador of the Russian Federation in Ukraine Mikhail Zurabov declared he is “deeply convinced that Ukrainians are not only a fraternal people to the Russians [“rossiyanam”],” but that he “believe[d] we represent one single people with its nuances and particularities” (“Zurabov: my”). […]

As a result of this element of Russian identity policy, a scandal broke out in December 2010, after Evgeniy Guzeev, Russia’s Consul General in Lviv, did not refrain from reiterating the absurd traditional views that Ukrainians were in fact invented by Austria and that there was no Ukrainian language prior to the Bolsheviks (“Genkonsul Rosiyi”). In an interview he explained his statement:

“I was talking to a young person — a nationalist who does not know anything either about the culture or about the language or about the history of Ukraine. […] I explained to him that the official Ukrainian language came here to Lviv together with the new government, the Soviet one, because prior to that there was no official Ukrainian language, there was Polish. […] The Bolsheviks brought official Ukrainian. […] Old Rus(s)ian [“давньоруська мова”] is the language of Eastern Slavs. And everyone spoke one language, a literary language, is what I mean. This was a literary language on the basis of Church Slavonic. […] I explained to the young nationalist that there is no російська мова [“Russian” in Ukrainian], it is руська [in this context: one “Russian” language for all Eastern Slavs]. With us in Russia we call our language русский⁹, not российский язык¹⁰, and it stems from давньоруська. […] I am not a philologist, I am a diplomat… I said that the Austrians wanted to im-plement the project of tearing away the South-Western periphery of the Austrian Empire [sic!] from the all-Russian world [“загальноруський світ”]. I did not say “the project Ukraine.” […]

We now have a concept provided by Patriarch Kirill as well as by our leadership, we are speaking about a unified all-Russian space [“загально-руський простір”], meaning that this is the (all )Russian world [“руський світ”]. […]

[The interviewer asked: What does the expansion of руська культура mean in Western Ukraine?] This means support for руська культура [“all-Russian culture”], російська [Russian civic (culture)], because російська [Russian civic (culture)], that is the Dagestanians, Yakuts, Tatars, Chechens and another 160 nationalities living in Russia. This is російська культура, but I am introducing and supporting here руська культура” (“Klymonchuk: Henkonsul”).

Ultimately caught in his own trap, Guzeev thus declared in all earnest that he considered himself to represent only the Russian people of the Russian Federation in the ethnic sense. Then he elaborated on his notion of the all-Russian language [“руський язик”]:

“I am saying simple things, but you do not understand them. You see, my statements are not the problem, but rather your lack of understanding such simple things such as the notion that there exists an (all )Russian culture [“руська культура”] and there is a російська культура [“Russian state culture” [?]; M.M.]. There is Russia [“Росія”], and there is Rus’ [“Русь”]. There is the (all )Russian language [“руська мова”] and there are [languages] close to the (all )Russian language [“руська мова”], e. g., Rusyn and Ukrainian [русинська чи українська]” (ibid.).

According to Guzeev, Ukrainian can thus not really be identified with руська мова, nor can Rusyn, because both languages are merely “close to” руська мова. As the former consul’s line of reasoning is in fact not particularly sophisticated or new, but basically coincides with Russian imperial discourse of the late 19th and early 20th century, one can safely assume that in Guzeev’s view, this mystical руська мова eventually has to be identified with Russian.¹¹

Since Ukrainian terminology was a true problem for Guzeev and the people who stood behind him, Russkiy Mir activists began seeking remedy. In November 2010, Vadym Kolesnichenko, the major spokes-man for the Party of Regions in the sphere of language policy, sub-mitted a draft decree stipulating that Russian should henceforth officially be referred to as “ruskyi,” and not “rosiyskyi” in Ukrainian (“Kolesnichenko zaregistriroval”). In his draft, Kolesnichenko offered the following argument:

A considerable part of Ukraine’s citizens identify themselves as representatives of the (all) Russian culture [“руська культура”], speakers of the (all )Russian language [“руська мова”], which arose and developed on the territory of Ukraine along with [“паралельно з”] the Ukrainian language and culture. In practice, in the contemporary language of legislation, official administration, official judiciary, etc., of our state, the concepts “россійскій” [sic!] and “русскій” [sic!] are usually identified and — in Ukrainian — used in one meaning — “Russian” [“россійскій”¹²]. Therefore, the current translation of the name of this language and culture as “російська” does not only not cor-respond to historical truth, but also completely identifies them with the befriended Russian state. Namely, the adjective “россійскій” reflects the exclusive adherence of the citizens and of social and cultural processes and phenomena to the state of the Russian Federation.

The adjective “русскій,” however, which exists in parallel with the adjective “россійскій,” establishes the ethnic and cultural identity, i.e., points to the ethnic origin, the adherence to “руська культура та мова,” the roots of which are in an ancient state — Kyivan Rus’ (ibid.).

Kolesnichenko then continued with an amazingly demagogic turn:

The international community pays attention to the inaccuracy and incorrectness of the adjective “русский” as “російський.” For instance, the Comittee of Experts of the Council of Europe in its “Report regarding the application of the Charter [sic, without European] for Regional or Minority Languages,”¹³ published on 7 July 2010, has focused its attention on the special status of “руська мова” (a [or the]¹⁴ traditional language of Ukraine) in the lives of the citizens of Ukraine.

Therefore, the culture and particularly the “руська” culture of Ukraine, as a tradition of spiritual being [“традиція духовного буття”], requires, for the complete understanding of this phenomenon, the renewal and development of a whole system of categories, particularly, such categories as “руська мова,” “руська спільнота,” etc. (“Kolesnichenko Proekt Postanovy”).

Of course, the Council of Europe had never stated anything that would even remotely resemble Kolesnichenko’s awkward draft decree or support it, but Kolesnichenko’s Russkiy Mir agenda was obvious: He wished to legally establish, with an eye to Ukrainian language legislation, a view of Ukrainian history featuring Russians as an ancient, indigenous people on their own realm, and to triviliaze any boundaries between Ukrainians and Russians as separate ethnoses.

The terminological mess ultimately bewildered some leading members of the Party of Regions. In the fall of 2011, Mykhailo Chechetov, Presidential Adviser and Deputy Chairman of the Party of Regions, lobbied for a decree on the celebration of the anniversary of the “Ruthenian Triad.” According to an eye witness (and purported by a third person), he argued that the “Ruthenian Triad” (Руська Трійця in Ukrainian, but Русская тройца in Russian only by mistake) “testifies to the then widespread understanding in support of the friendship of fraternal people in Galicia” (“Masenko Zakonotvorche”). Chechetov’s proposal was accepted with an overwhelming majority in the Verkhovna Rada. Apparently, most members of parliament were not aware that in spite of terminological discrepancies the representatives of the “Ruthenian Triad” had in fact played a major role in the “Ruthenian” national movement in Galicia with “Ruthenian” meaning ‘Ukrainian,’ but expressly not Russian… (see “Moser Prychynky”: 384–683).¹⁵ […]

The fragments from the book (pp. 140–179): Michael Moser. Language Policy and Discourse on Languages in Ukraine under President Viktor Yanukovych. Stuttgart: ibidem 2013 (Soviet and Post-Soviet Politics and Society 122). 506 ст. Hardcover: ISBN 978-3-8382-0507-6 / ISSN 1614-3515. Paperback: ISBN 978-3-8382-0497-0 / ISSN 1614-3515 are published with the kind permission of the Author and the Publisher. More information about the book could be found at:
http://www.ibidem-verlag.de/buecher/9783838204970.htm

1. The Russian word mir means both world and peace, and some ideologists have tried to make a great mystery of that phenomenon. A less mystical association that might come immediately to one’s mind is Pax Romana “Roman peace,” i.e., that part of the world that was “pacified,” i.e. conquered by the Roman Empire.
2. Earlier, he had presented the text at a round table entitled “The Russian World: Russia’s sense and strategy” which was organized by the “Unity in the name of Russia” Foundation and the journal “Russia’s Strategy” in May 2007 (“Tishkov”).
3. In the original, one reads in questionable Russian: “Но подавляющую основу [?; M.M.] нового (ближнего) русского мира составляют русские”).
4. Tishkov was critical of the fact that especially in the 1990s the majority of special-ists and politicians “took into account only the first two variants,” which he viewed as “the most unnatural from the perspective of rational human choices” and as those “most difficult to implement.” […]
5. On the reception of Andreev’s text see also “Dziuba Ukraina.”
6. In Russian: “Комиссия при президенте Российской Федерации по проти-водействию попыткам фальсификации истории в ущерб интересам России.”
7. As Yulia Kantor reports, the commission had in fact done little, but received plenty of denunciatory letters with demands to punish various “falsifiers” of history (“Kantor”).
8. Luzhkov demonstrated great engagement for Russian “compatriots” in Ukraine, particularly in the Crimea. […].
9. The Ukrainian text has “рускій” instead of “русский” here and elsewhere in this quote.
10. The Ukrainian text has “російський язик” here.
11. In the end, Guzeev could not remain at his post even under Yanukovych’s regime. In March 2011, he departed Lviv and was succeeded by Consul General Oleg Astakhov (“Rosiyskyi Henkonsul”).
12. Although Kolesnichenko informed his readers in a blog conference in early June 2010 (the text was published only on 13 January 2011) that he had been working on this terminological project for a year (“Kolesnichenko Press Conference”), the text was full of mistakes.
13. What Kolesnichenko had in mind was the above-mentioned “Assessment of the application of the European Charter for Regional and Minority Languages in Ukraine” (see 2.2.).
14. Given the fact that Ukrainian (as well as Russian) does not use articles, it is not possible to distinguish the definite or indefinite meaning in most contexts.
15. Contrary to other interpretations as analyzed in “Moser Colonial” and “Moser Anti-ukrainische.” The fact that one of the representatives of the “Ruthenian Triad” later espoused all-Russian views is a different story (see “Moser Ukrainskyi”: 44–78).