July 26, 2019

A Ukrainian political prisoner for the ages

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Levko Lukianenko

Just over a year ago on July 7, 2018, a Ukrainian moral icon was laid to rest. Levko Lukianenko was a Ukrainian nationalist by his own appellation, a freedom fighter, dissident and one of Ukraine’s longest termed political prisoner. After independence Lukianenko became a politician, diplomat, but frankly he was never suited for that line of work. Politicians and diplomats are rarely moral icons.  

I knew Levko Lukianenko personally, having had  many opportunities to meet and converse with him. I attended his funeral in Kyiv and bade him farewell on behalf of Ukrainians abroad.

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They should not see your tears

On the night of January 21, 1961, when they completed the search in my apartment, they announced my arrest and suggested that we walk out of the apartment. I asked my wife for a piece of “salo” (cured slab of fatback) and some bread and then said goodbye with no tears. I told my wife not to cry. “Don’t dare show tears to these Cheka (secret police) agents. Remember they should never see your tears, never!” I said to her. 

In the Volga automobile they seated me on the back seat  with a Cheka agent on either side. The car moved. It was near midnight. At first I did not know where they were taking me, and I could expect many places. The traffic was behind us. Inside the car it was warm. The Cheka agents were silent. I felt an emptiness in my stomach, took a piece of the salo with a slice of bread and ate with satisfaction. As customary with me I thought about sharing with my companions but then caught myself – they are Cheka agents and so I ate alone. 

I was sleepy but anxious in my  mind, “Where are they taking me? What awaits me? I felt like sleeping because that’s what night is for. I dozed off. Soon the  car entered an unfamiliar driveway and in a few minutes I was in a not large room with prison guards. They rummaged through the pockets of my coat, pants, checked everything, took the belt from my pants and the laces from my shoes, filled out some papers and brought me to a room roughly one meter square named “the box” and said “You will sleep here ‘til morning” then locked the door from the outside. 

I examined the box, three white walls and the fourth consisting of the door. Some type of square well. It had a high ceiling with several holes for ventilation. But it was dry and not cold. The floor was painted and clean. I had a heavy winter coat so I lay down in my coat on the floor, curled up and fell fast asleep.  

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In 2006 Lukianenko published memoirs about his period of internment in Sosnovka 7. The above was the first episode, recounting his initial arrest. Lukianenko’s admonition to his wife about not letting the enemy see her tears was illustrative of the man.  

I am reminded once again today about two striking features of Lukianenko’s life as a prisoner.  He was a unique Ukrainian political prisoner. His positions were always unequivocal. While many dissidents and political prisoners from Ukraine during the Soviet period were not clear regarding their intentions, either because they themselves were not certain of their aims or they cleverly sought to shroud their views in more acceptable terms, using Soviet or international statutes as cover. Lukianenko was transparent and outspoken.  

Many dissidents were reformers seeking to change the Soviet system, struggling for human and national rights – the former meaning freedom of speech, assembly, religion and the later encompassing the freedom to speak, study and write in their native Ukrainian language and cultivate the Ukrainian culture. Lukianenko went beyond that. He manifestly declared that his aim was to separate Ukraine from the USSR,  which he deemed to be the Russian empire, and to institute a free and democratic Ukrainian state and society. His democratic ideals and his right to Ukraine’s secession stemmed from his education and personal conviction of the rule of law and the need to defend the individual from the state. The right to secede, after all, was guaranteed by the Soviet Constitution.

Secondly, and this is exemplified by the outtake from his memoirs cited above, Lukianenko was the consummate dissident and political prisoner, neither surprised nor unnerved excessively by arrest and internment. Following his first arrest he was sentenced to death, but as an attorney he himself worked on the  commutation of the death sentence to a 15-year term. He saw the term not as a tragedy or an ending but as yet another opportunity to continue the struggle – this time with some of the best people Ukraine had to offer, fellow political prisoners. He became an organizer in prison and in the camp, and was proud of the fact that he was as effective as a Ukrainian freedom fighter while in prison as he had been as a free man. 

For Lukianenko it was always about the triumph of good over evil and the big picture of Ukraine’s freedom and democracy. Perhaps what made him an inspirational political prisoner made him less of an effective diplomat and politician in his later years. Lukianenko could never recognize or allow short cuts or political expediency. He was congenial and hospitable, willing to share his “salo,” and he listened to the opinions of other, but followed the advice of others only when their position was based on solid moral grounds. I did not always agree with him on tactics, but I always respected and loved him for his principles and moral high ground. May he rest in peace and in our eternal memory!

 

Askold S. Lozynskyj is an attorney based in New York City. He is a former president of the Ukrainian World Congress.

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