Joseph Brodsky’s ‘On Ukrainian Independence’

In 1964 the Russian poet Joseph Brodsky was put on trial by Soviet authorities. He would be charged with social parasitism and sentenced to hard labour in Arkhangelsk. In 1972 he would be exiled from the Soviet Union permanently. He would settle in America where he would become a citizen and later the Poet Laureate of the United States. In 1987 he would be awarded the Nobel prize for literature. Brodsky would die in 1996 at the age of 55. It is now 2022 and it seems that ‘our ginger’ – as Akhmatova called him – is on trial once again. Only this time the trial does not take place in a Leningrad courtroom but in the public forum of the media. This is a piece written to defend the poet against recent attacks on his poem ‘On the Independence of Ukraine’.

This time it is not social parasitism that our ginger is officially being accused of, but something akin to “political incorrectness”. As in 1964, these official terms lack real meaning and are only a cover for what the actual crime is — the writing itself. Just as in 1964 Brodsky is on trial for what he has written. While the official charge may change it seems that it is our ginger’s fate to commit (or be perceived to commit) some social-political faux pas or other. The trial today is as absurd as it was in the Soviet Russia of the 1960s, and in the interests of continuing a tradition that began with Anna Akhmatova and others, I now set out to defend our poet against these attacks and accusations.

The new controversy around Brodsky began with a poem, unpublished in his lifetime, written on the nationhood of Ukraine. The controversy has since spiraled from certain individuals decrying the poem’s nature to questioning Brodsky’s right to be a poet at all. This is not the first time that Brodsky’s right to be a poet has been questioned: in 1964 the judge in that Leningrad courtroom asked Brodsky who had allowed him to become a poet, to which he replied, “No one. Who was it who decided I was a member of the human race?” and when asked how he learned to be a poet he said; “I didn’t think you learned that… I think this is… from God.” Such statements were shocking in that time and place, it condemned him for a second but cemented his place among the poets for centuries to come. 

This time around, however, Brodsky is not able to defend himself as he is dead. As such I do my best to defend him, by examining the poem in my own translation, provided below along with footnotes and commentary.

The poem itself

Dear Charles the Twelfth [1], the battle near Poltava [2],

Thank God, is lost. As the mumbler said [3]

“Time will show Kuzka’s mother” [4], ruins,

Bones of posthumous joy with a taste of Ukraine.

It’s not the green flag [5] wasted by an isotope,

It’s the Yellow and Blue [6] that flies over Konotop [7],

Cut from canvas, one knows it was prepared by Canada,

A gift without a cross, but the Khokhly [8] don’t need one.

You Goy, [9] embroidered-towel, cash, [10] and a handful of seeds!

It’s not for us katsapy [11], to accuse them of treason.

Beneath the ikons, for seventy years in Ryazan [12]

Living with flooded eyes like Tarzan.

Tell them like a mother whose pause is strictly marked:

Good riddens to you Khokhly, and to your embroidered ways [13]

Leave us in Zhupany [14], without speaking in uniform,

To the address of three letters on all four sides.

Now let the Hanses [15] and the Poles [16] into the hut, where

They’ll put you on all four bones, as in a chorus, The bastards.

How to climb into the noose together, choosing a branch

In the wilderness.

It is sweeter to gnaw at the chicken from the borsch alone.

Forgive me, Khokhol! We’ve lived together, that’s enough.

Spit or something, into the Dnieper – perhaps he will roll backwards,

Proudly disdaining us, like a fast train, stuffed full

Of leather corners and centuries-old loneliness.

Do not recall with malice! Your sky, your bread

For us — to choke on cake isn’t required by us.

There’s nothing to spoil the blood, to rip the clothes

Of the breast. It’s gone, Love, if ever it was between us.

To pick vainly in torn roots [17] with a verb!

The earth gave birth to you: soil, black with podzol

Sews for you, full complete rights -- for us; something else.

This earth doesn’t give you watermelons or peace.

Oy yes, Levada Steppe, the great lady [18], the chestnut, the dumpling.

More has been lost – more people, than money.

Somehow, we’ll get through it. And as for the tear

From my eye, there is no order for her to await another time.

With God, eagles, Cossacks, hetmans, guards!

Only when it comes to it and you die,

You will wheeze, scratching at the edge of the mattress,

Lines from Aleksandr [19], not the nonsense of Taras [20].

[1] Charles the Twelfth was the king of Sweden during the Great Norther War (1700-1721) with Russia. The war is remembered as a battle between Russia and a Western power i.e., Sweden.

[2] The battle of Poltava was a battle fought during the Great Northern War in which Russia triumphed. It is a memorable battle not only for Russia but also for Ukraine, as the Hetman Ivan Mazepa allied himself with Sweden. As such Mazepa is remembered as a traitor in Russia, and as a hero in Ukraine.

[3] The mumbler, or Kartavy, according to Sergey Armenskov in his article for Russian Universe refers to Lenin.

[4] To show someone “Kuzka’s mother” is a famously confusing (for English speakers) Russian phrase which means something like “to teach someone a lesson”. The phrase was famously used by Khrushchev to President Nixon during the Cold War.

[5] The green flag likely refers to the anarchist forces active during the Russian civil war in addition to the White and Red armies.

[6] Konotop is a town in Sumy Oblast’ northeastern Ukraine. It is also the scene of the battle of Konotop (1659), one of many memorable battles in Ukrainian history.

[7] The Yellow and Blue of course refers to the Ukrainian national flag. Brodsky uses the Ukrainian words Zhovto-Blakitni — one of several uses of Ukrainian words through out the poem.

[8] Khokhly, the infamy of the poem, is a derogatory epithet. According to the Internet Encyclopedia of Ukraine it is derived from an old Slavic word for the tufts of cereal grass. It later came to refer to a traditional Cossack hairstyle otherwise known as the oseledtsi’. The word’s use as a slur is a double-edged sword however, as according to the internet encyclopedia of Ukraine the term came to be a derogatory epithet used by Ukrainians to refer to Russified Ukrainians, in addition to its now more famous use as slur used by Russians for Ukrainians.

[9] Goy is a Hebrew word meaning nation (as an ethnic unit, not a political body) often used to refer to nations other than Israel. As such it has come to be a term used for non-Jews or Gentiles.

[10] Embroidered-towels, cash, or rushnik, karbovanets’, Rushniki are traditionally embroidered cloths or towels. Karbovanets’ is the Ukrainian currency.

[11] Katsapy, is a derogatory Ukrainian term for a Russian

[12] Ryazan is a town in central Russia. In the poem, Ryazan is synonymous with isolation and is used to show the isolation that someone is in. I say someone because the Russian here is vague, it could be either an ‘us’ or a ‘them’ construction, and as such I have done my best to leave the English vague as well.

[13] Embroidered ways, or rushnikom doroga. ‘Doroga’ is generally translated as ‘roads’, but I think that ‘ways’ is a better word to use here.

[14] Zhupany is a town in Lviv Oblast’ Ukraine.

[15] Hanses refers to Germans, presumably German soldiers.

[16] In the original Russian that word used is Lyakhami. The term is used as an ironic or derogatory epithet for a Polish person. I have chosen ‘poles’ as translation.

[17] Roots, refers to the roots of words.

[18] Kralya, is a reportedly uncommon Russian word meaning ‘stately lady’, however in Bulgarian and Ukrainian it means ‘King’. As Brodsky is fond of Ukrainianisms throughout the poem we cannot rule out that ‘king’ is the intended meaning.

[19] Aleksandr, refers to Aleksandr Pushkin – the father of Russian literature.

[20] Taras refers to Taras Shevchenko – the father of Ukrainian literature.

The Controversy

The main controversy over the poem, is of course the name and subject matter of the poem. That the poem is called ‘On Ukrainian Independence’ and that the nationhood of Ukraine is the subject matter of the poem is true. However, the meaning many have drawn from the poem is found wanting. It is a dense poem, containing layers of meaning. Brodsky is a somewhat opaque poet generally; this poem affirms that.

The most difficult aspect of the poem are the extensive historical and cultural references, which are expressed not only in Brodsky’s Russian, but also in Ukrainian terms. It is difficult to understand the poem if you are not aware of or able to devote time to the study of Russian and Ukrainian history. In addition to this, another reason many do not understand the poem is because of the difficulties inherent to translation. Artem Serebennikov’s translation is fine, if it is taken as a purely artistic translation and as such takes great liberties with the original, but it is not possible to understand the poet’s intended meaning from it.

The main charge emanating from the controversy is that the poem is an example of bigotry, racism, Russian chauvinism, etc., I think that this is a rash and impudent judgement against the poem – a judgement that has left some calling for the complete ‘cancelation’ of Brodsky.

In the Western world, many are sensitive to the use of derogatory epithets. As such Brodsky’s use of terms like Khokhol, Lyakhami, etc., is the object of ire. The use of such words is used as evidence to condemn Brodsky as a nationalist, chauvinist, racist, etc., but I argue that people who come to this judgement have misunderstood the poem. Brodsky’s use of slurs throughout the poem is not evidence of his hatred of everyone, including himself (let us not forget katsapy…); but rather is evidence of Brodsky’s style as a poet. The novelist choosing between two words of similar meaning will choose the one with the most accurate, correct meaning. The poet, however, is more likely to choose the word which feels and sounds right. Every poet is particular about words, but almost none more so than Brodsky:

“… A word's fate depends on the variety of its contexts, on the frequency of its usage. In printed Russian "yevrei" appears nearly as seldom as, say, "mediastinum" or "gennel" in American English. In fact, it also has something like the status of a four-letter word or like a name for VD. . . [Somehow it goes against one's sense of prosody. I remember that I always felt a lot easier with a Russian equivalent of "kike"— ii Zhyd": it was clearly offensive and thereby meaningless, not loaded with allusions.” (Brodsky, Less than One 7-8)

Brodsky is obviously a Jew, yet he prefers a derogatory term for Jew over the officially sanctioned Yevrei. This was not done out of self-loathing, Brodsky does not hate his Jewish self, it is simply that he prefers the word Zhyd – a word that to him lacks the apparently more negative connotations of the official Yevrei.

Much has been said about official vs unofficial, or public vs private language in the Soviet culture. I have heard it argued that Brodsky and his generation had a particular dislike for officially sanctioned terms because their original meaning had faded, with the word no longer reflecting the thing, but only an artificial abstraction of that thing.

Perhaps it was out of this dislike for officialdom, and his generation’s very Acmeist like need to return to the ‘true’ names of things, that has led Brodsky to employ the use of unofficial and slang terms in his otherwise very classically indebted poetry. While Brodsky uses mat’ and fenya (Russian profanity and prison slang respectively) occasionally in his poetry, he is almost never vulgar.

Brodsky, for all his perceived arrogance and occasional strong language, lacks the swagger and vulgarity of Mayakovsky. Brodsky can arrest an audience with his words’ power and strength; thus, he has no need to go about throwing tea in people’s faces like a little boy whose mother ignores him the way Mayakovsky did. In addition to this, Brodsky by his very existence was something of a ‘slap in the face of public taste’ and as such had no need to go to extremes to shock an audience, and apparently had little desire to, unlike Mayakovsky.

Brodsky’s penchant for words like Zhyd, Khokhol, Lyakhami, etc., is not done out of spite or loathing, he does not use these words to be offensive or to shock – he uses them because he as a poet has deemed them to be the most appropriate and direct words to use, either because of sound or feeling, regardless of what any official body has to say about it – be it the Communist Party or the American media.

 Along with the issue taken with the actual words of the poem, is the perceived general meaning of the poem. Many have read On Ukrainian Independence to be an indictment against Ukrainians and their nation. This judgement is not getting to the true meaning of the poem – which is much more complex than racial, or national politics.

 We can see that the speaker of the poem is grieved over the loss of Ukraine. The poem is passionately tragic in tone, but as this is Brodsky, it is a tragedy watched from the distance in bewilderment. The poet refers to the sister country as Lyubov, or Love as a noun, and compares the loss of her to the ending of a love affair: ‘it’s gone, Love, if ever it was between us’ Such a separation is so wrenching that the poet is left to wonder if anything other than separation ever was. There is also the tear from his eye, which has ‘no order to await another time’. This is a key phrase of the poem, crucial to its understanding; the poet is crying, if only a single tear. If the speaker were so cold and brutal why would there be tears? Why would he compare the loss of the sister country to the end of love?

 And this has been the chief argument, that Brodsky is cold, cruel, and terrible in this poem, but so much refutes this that it is necessary to look to a different interpretation – for these are not the tears of an imperialistic nationalist. The poet is grieved over the loss of Ukraine, but is determined to get through it, and as poetry lasts longer than Kremlins and Nations, he will get through it. In fact, and this is my interpretation, the lose of Ukraine seems to be just another page in the history book of the world – albeit one with apparently deep implications for the poet.

 Throughout the poem we see references to wars, nations, and kings. The most interesting perhaps is the reference to Charles the Twelfth and the Great Northern War. This war holds significance for both Russia and Ukraine. In Russia, the war is remembered as a triumph over a Western power. In Ukraine, the hetman Ivan Mazepa is remembered today as a hero who fought against Russia by aligning himself with that Western power. It is likely that such interpretations of the war by both nations are fraught with presentism, that such interpretations say more about recent history than about the situation in the 1700s, but perhaps this is the key to understanding the poem. Brodsky of course is speaking with a Russian voice in the 20th century, this is his perspective, and as he is not a blind, wandering Oedipus — it is insightful.

 One of the most insightful points of the poem is the reference to Poltava. Brodsky asserts, to Charles the Twelfth no less, that the battle is lost. It isn’t entirely clear who has lost the battle, Russia or Sweden, but given the overall subject of the poem I think it isn’t a stretch to say that it is Russia who has, at last, lost Poltava. If the loss of Ukraine is akin to losing the battle of Poltava (a battle which is still contested today) then it is not Ukraine that Russia is at war with directly.

 These references to the Great Northern War set the stage for the poem. From here on the poem brings us into the present, though glimpses of the past still pass by. We now see the Yellow and Blue over Konotop instead of the green of anarchist peasants. It has been sent by Canada, but it lacks a cross – perhaps showing a break with Byzantium.

 Brodsky spends much of the poem establishing how he and other Russians will live through this new situation. He denies the need for bread, for embroidered ways. He states that they will “somehow get through this”. But the past still resurrects itself, and ever reasserts itself in ominous ways.

Brodsky’s use of the word Goy is interesting for this reason; during the second world war there was a branch of the nazi SS based in Galicia (modern day Ukraine), known as the 14а Гренадерська Дивізія СС (1а галицька)) or the  14th Waffen Grenadier Division of the SS (1st Galician). As Brodsky is both a Jew and a Russian, it is perhaps not surprising that he would remember this aspect of history and rightly be angered and grieved by it. Regardless of the emotional connotations or inspirations, the Galician nazi group can be seen as another instance in which Ukraine sided with a Western power instead of Russia, and one can see in current day Lviv’, and to a lesser extent Kiev, the “Embroidery March'“ held to celebrate this nazi criminal group.

 Ukraine’s historical alignment with the West, has not been to her benefit according to Brodsky. His reference to the military rape of Ukrainians by Germans and Poles is not to be seen as Brodsky giving his blessing for such an action, rather it is Brodsky telling us what has happened and what is likely to happen again – that Ukraine is betrayed and brutally ravaged by Western soldiers and governments – regardless of what flags they may send to her.

 We are told that someone will be shown Kuzka’s mother. Is it Ukraine? Russia? Someone else? What we do know is that it is Time who is doing the showing, though we do not know to whom. Time is very important to Brodsky. It is Time that causes both death and decay. If this is true of human relationships, the body, and Greek Churches in Leningrad, then is it not also true of empires?

 This poem is about Time, about empires that crumble into and because of Time. It may reference Khokhly, Hanses, and Katsapy, but it is more broadly about the effects of time upon these people and their nations. This brings to mind that other, more biblical meaning of Goy — Nation. As such, perhaps Brodsky is not just referring to Ukrainian gentiles who betrayed their Jewish neighbours, but to a nation more generally. it must be acknowledged however, that Goy is paired with the informal second person singular pronoun ‘ty’, but perhaps it is a double meaning, whether intended consciously or not, rather than simply one or the other.

 As Time is the main point of the poem and all else is an effect, this explains the historical references as well as what appear to be prophesies of doom. The past, according to this poem, repeats. In the poem Ukraine aligns herself with the Swedes, with the Germans, with the Canadians, but according to Brodsky this brings her only strife – never freedom from oppression.

 All of this considered, we can say that this is a passionate, though mournful, poem –-- one that seemingly defies attempts at basic understanding. I hope that this translation and interpretation help to give insight into the poem and her poet. On Ukrainian Independence is not a poem written in hate to disparage Ukraine, it is a poem about the ravages of Time upon empires and people, it is a poem about a shared history that is splitting into two paths – one embroidered, one not – it is a poem about history and the future. It is Brodsky at his most opaque, passionate, and misunderstood.

References

Armeyskov, Sergey. “Joseph Brodsky – on Ukrainian Independence.” Russian Universe, 27 Feb. 2017, https://russianuniverse.org/2017/02/27/joseph-brodsky-on-ukrainian-independence/.

Brodsky, Joseph. Less Than One: Selected Essays. Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2020.

The Internet Encyclopedia of Ukraine.