From individual to collective identity: the case of autobiographical accounts from the Ukrainian-Russian and Ukrainian-Romanian borderlands

The article presents the problem of cultural memory of Poles from two different regions of Ukraine, the south­east of the country and Carpathian Bukovina. It examines the following five main topic areas: the Second World War, life after the war (including the problem of the Russians), the issue of the Roman Catholic religion, the language question, and the problem of declaration of Polishness today. The accounts of the every­ day life of Poles in the Ukrainian­Russian and Ukrainian­Romanian borderlands show important differences concerning their experience of war. In Bukovina, which used to be part of Romania, Poles display a much more consolidated sense of national identity. Despite the restrictions imposed by Soviet authorities, they gathered around the Roman Catholic Church as well as the institution of family, and taught the Polish language in private homes. This explains a continuity of their traditions, language, culture, and memory. On the other hand, throughout the Soviet period the Poles in Eastern Ukraine were cut off from contacts with Poland, the Roman Catholic Church and Polish organisations. Geographically dispersed and living in fear in their social environment, Polish families experienced a loss of their loved ones and faced severe punishment for declaring identity other than ‘Soviet’. Another factor at play was a relatively high rate of mixed marriages. The memory of contact with the Soviets is similar in both borderlands. The con­ duct of the new authorities was the same everywhere, and the examples quoted in the article represent a broader issue which would merit a separate study.

The present article offers a discussion of the problem of the cultural memory of Poles from two different regions of Ukraine, where the Polish minority has been present for a long time and keeps cultivating its traditions: the southeast of the country and Car pathian Bukovina.1While Poles in Bukovina speak the local dialect of Polish, those in Donetsk increasingly more often learn the language of their grandparents.The article is based mainly on materials collected in the course of field studies using the method of narrative interview.I conducted my research concerning linguistic identity among Poles living in southeastern Ukraine in 2007-2012, and have been documenting the current state of spoken Polish in Carpathian Bukovina since 2015.2Individual experience is the subject of 'oral history', which relies on informa tion acquired in oral interviews.'The historical picture that emerges from these individual memory is determined not only by its timespan, but also by the forms of processing experience in the context of a broader horizon of generational memory' (A.Assmann, 2009, pp. 159-160).5 The accounts discussed below indicate similarities and differences between experi ences of women living in different borderlands of the same state: Ukrainian-Russian and Ukrainian-Romanian.The following part of the article includes a comparative overview of the accounts of two Polish women (aged eightyone and eightytwo) from the two regions under consideration.The analysis focuses on five topic areas: the Sec ond World War, life after the war (including the problem of the Russians), the issue of the Roman Catholic religion, the language question and the problem of declaration of Polishness today.The fact that both informants paid particular attention to these subjects, which kept recurring in their accounts, indicates that these issues left a last ing imprint on their memory.
Beginning their accounts from the war years, the informants provide details which they can best remember from the period and the most tragic elements of their everyday life experience, including fear of losing their loved ones: Bukovina: I remember the war; they took our dad away and he fought in it; we were evacuated beyond Bobieszty [Ukr.Bobivtsi, Rom.Bobești]; the whole family.Well, not the whole, really, because there were no men with us.There was our granny, mum and us, nine kids.We had two cows; there was enough food.We sold milk, or mum swapped it for bread, and there was always something to eat.We also had enough clothes; there was no great poverty, but there was fear.There was fear because old people told us about war; us, kids, all we knew about war was that people get killed.But no one said that we would be killed; only those who'd gone to war were in danger.Our place was quiet.Well, there were bands around, but if they got food and drink they didn't do any harm.They went somewhere else or went into hiding in the forest.(Female, 82, Bukovina)6

Donetsk:
It was really hard during the war.There was no food, there was nothing at all; hunger and cold everywhere.Everyone was scared, the young, the old and the children.People got shot and killed; those who did it didn't care about anything.I saw a lot of little kids in the streets, they lay there dead.Their mothers cried over them, and they were also killed.I can understand the war with the Germans, but they killed their own people; I don't know why.I can well remember one night; we didn't sleep at all, there was fighting all night.And, you know, that's when my father was killed.It's hard for me to go back to those times.I can remember everything, but it's hard to talk about it.It was a nightmare; and the whole life was a nightmare.I remember there was no joy any day at all.And today, everything is allowed, but I don't tell anything to my grandchildren; why would they need to know about such a bad life?(Female, 81, Donetsk)7 Both of the above accounts concerning the Second World War focus on par ticular experiences.However, their nature is different: the informant from Bukovina talks about the change of the environment and distance from the family home, while the picture of the war in Donetsk is dominated by the motif of the loss of the father and the sight of dead children in the streets.Considering that both interviews are extensive, the quoted fragments are taken out of their context.Before describing her war years, the informant from Donetsk talked about her mother.On the other hand, the informant from Bukovina quickly proceeded to the main subject.Her wartime experience was certainly not as difficult, which was reflected in her tone: looking back at her past, she sometimes sounded lighthearted.
The above examples from both interviews illustrate the everyday life of the infor mants, who were twelve or thirteen years old at the time.They experienced dramatic events, such as the evacuation of the entire village in Bukovina, which involved fear of the change of place of residence and uncertainty whether the villagers would ever return to their own space, and, if so, whether it would still be the same.The informant from Donetsk talks about her fear of death which could come every single day, there and then, and take her, her loved ones or her neighbours away; there was nowhere to run.Cruelty was an inescapable part of the time and space of her everyday experience.
Writing about collective and biographical memory, Kaja Kaźmierska stresses a particular sense of the need to share one's own war experience with others.The author observes that biographical accounts reveal the importance of the history of the infor mants' space, especially in the case of those from the former Polish eastern bor 7 Original transcript: 'U vaĭnu nam bylo ochen' tiazhelo.Ne było chto kushat', ne bylo nichego.Golod i kholod vezde.Baialis' vse starshye liudi i molodye i deti.Strieliali, ubivali, ne smotreli ni na chto.Ochen' mnogo malykh deteĭ ia videla na ulitsakh -lezhali mertvye.Mamy nad nimi plakali, ėtikh zhenshchin tozhe izbivali.Ia ponimaiu voĭna c nemtsami, no ubivali svoikh.Ne znaiu pochemu.Pomniu khorosho odnu noch'.My ne spali, tseluiu noch' shli boi.No i znaete, otets moĭ togda pogib.Mne tiazhelo vozvro shchatsia v to vremia.Ia vsё pomniu, no tiazhelo ob ėtom rasskazyvat'.Ėto byl koshmar, i voobshchie tselaia zhizn' to koshmar.Kazhdyĭ den' pomniu radosti ne bylo.A seĭchas, vsё mozhno, no i vnukam nichego ne rasskazyvaiu, zachem im takaia plokhaia zhizn' (Female,81,Donetsk). derlands: they feel the need to talk about their life story to pass on the picture of the world to which they belonged and with which they strongly identify (Kaźmierska, 2009 p. 44).This is also the case of the two informants from Bukovina and Donetsk, whose accounts of the war years are set in a particular time and space and describe their involvement in particular events.In addition, the account from Donetsk also suggests the need to share the story, although it involves telling it to a stranger rather than family transmission.
The accounts under discussion also include subjects connected with the postwar reality, which brought a dramatic change in the situation of both informants.Indeed, they felt lost in the new administrative and political situation: Bukovina: The war was over, that was good news.But I experienced a shock: I had been a Romanian citizen, and here you suddenly had to become a Soviet person.They gave us these [inter nal] passports and all Soviet documents with our place of birth marked as the Soviet Union.After all this, we were afraid; you need to be afraid of Russians even today.They take you by surprise and turn people into nothing.People meant nothing to them.Just orders and orders, that's all I can remember.Orders everywhere; we lived by the orders.One good thing was that Poles helped one another; Ukrainians were also good people, and Romanians as well.The worst kind of scum were those who came over from somewhere in Russia and gave orders; orders to go to work, orders to get up, orders and orders everywhere.It had been different in Romania, it was our own place, and we never felt good under Russians.Well, maybe it's a bit better now, but I don't know.(Female, 82, Bukovina)8 Donetsk: Well, life after the war was really hard.There were 'alien' Russians [who came from other places]; they were in charge of everything.Russians took all the good posts and they were in charge.It was terrible; they treated us like animals.I don't even know how to say this.Every day was hard and terrible.After the war, everything was destroyed, all the people were angry and there were lots of 'alien' Russians and, you know, they were bad people, they bullied us here.If they'd known I was Polish, they might have even killed me.We spoke only Russian at home, just like everyone around.We became Russians just like all the people in the city.They turned us into the Soviet people to make us all the same.And so we're 8 Original transcript: 'Wojna się skończyła.To było pocieszające.Ale przeżyłam szok, byłam hromadzianką Rumunii, a tu nagle już musisz stać się sowieckim człowiekiem i dajom te paszporty i wszystkie dokumenty sowieckie i miejsce urodzenia Sowieckij Sojuz.Jak to się stało.Wszyscy baliśmy się, bo ruskich i do dziś trzeba się bać.Oni robiom niespodzianki i z człowieka robiom nic.Człowiek dla nich się nie cenił.Rozkaz, rozkaz tyle pamiętam.Wszysko było rozkaz.Żyliśmy na rozkaz.Jedno dobrze, że pomagaliśmy sobie Polacy, też Ukrajińcy byli dobre ludzie i Rumuni.Najbardziej parszywi to byli ci, co przyjechali gdzieś z Rosji i dawali rozkazy.Na rozkaz do pracy, na rozkaz sie wstawało, na rozkaz tylko na rozkaz.W Rumunii było inaczej, byliśmy u siebie, a u ruskich nigdy nie czuliśmy się dobrze.No może teraz troche lepiej, ale nie wiem' (Female,82,Bukovina).

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all Soviet people here.Even today I'm afraid to say I'm Polish; I'm scared.(Female, 81, Donetsk)9 These statements indicate that the everyday life of both informants involved a simi lar experience of postwar Soviet rule.They clearly express their sense of alienation in the new reality, which remained in sharp contrast to their prewar world.Their lives changed under the impact of the same 'stranger' or enemy.The informant from Bukovina distinctly identifies the unexpected advent of Soviet rule as evil.Not only was new citizenship and language imposed on her, but she was also forced to give up her identification with the Romanian state in which she was born.Importantly, she stresses that even her official identity documents falsified the truth.
Both informants had to become accustomed to living by the harsh rules of this new, alien world, which required them to forget their entire prewar experience.In Bukovina, the Soviets imposed the policy of forced homogenisation of the multi cultural environment of the region.Although the informant from Donetsk lived in the Russianspeaking environment, the patterns of social interaction after the war became different following the introduction of the model of the 'Soviet' nation, which brought subordination and homogenisation of the entire population of the country.
The informant from Bukovina refers to Romania as her 'own place', the coun try where she was born.The new, completely alien reality came to her as a shock.The account from Donetsk explains that the 'alien' (chuzhie) Russians who arrived in the province from other parts of the Soviet Union were malicious towards the local population of the city.As designed by the Kremlin, Soviet society was to be reduced to easily manipulated working masses without a historically formed structure.
Another issue present in both accounts is that of the Roman Catholic religion.Although the informants have a different level of knowledge about it and were raised in different ways, religion plays a major role in their everyday life today:

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seen it, so I don't know.There is no God and that's it: there was no God at school; at home, they told me to stop asking, they told me there is no God.I felt as if someone had gone missing, as if someone close had died and wasn't there anymore.My dad told me they had taken Him away, He escaped; I didn't know where they had taken Him.There was an empty space, as if someone close had died.When my mum was dying in 1974, she told me 'Look for God; you're a Catholic and a Pole; never forget it and teach your children, but not just yet.' (Female, 81, Donetsk)10

Bukovina:
We had a [Roman Catholic] church; in Czerniowce [Ukr.Chernivtsi] it was never sealed; we went there every Sunday.The communists wanted to destroy it; they ordered the priest to go to work, but we survived somehow.So, we've always had a church, there were prayers and children got baptised.My father was Polish, my mother was Rusyn, but we all went to the [Roman] Catholic church and I brought up my children and grandchildren the same; my conscience is clear.Well, the communists wouldn't let us, but we had to deal with this somehow so that we could live with God.It was something you learnt at home, something important.We always helped our church when there was some need.The [Roman] Catholic religion was always thought to be better than Orthodox, so we weren't really afraid so much.Well, they tried to persuade us to join the [communist] party, but we lived our lives in such a way so that we wouldn't have anything to do with them.(Female, 82, Bukovina)11 The 1930's, when the informants were born, was a tragic decade for ethnic Poles and all Roman Catholics in Ukraine.It should be noted that the informant from Bukovina was not affected by the situation, as the region was part of Romania at the time.In Soviet Ukraine, churches were sealed and the clergy arrested or deported.In 1928, Bishop PieÉugène Neveu reported from Makiivka that 'arrests among our Orthodox brethren have multiplied to an alarming extent'.In 1929, he wrote that 'even families 10 Original transcript: 'Mama mne nauchila molit'sia.Ja do dzisiaj [Pol.]znaiu 'Ojcze Nasz' [Pol.]i 'Zdrowaśku' [Pol.]i vse molitvy po polski.No moia mama byla veruiushchaia i papa tozhe, s katolicheskoĭ semii.Krestili menia vo Lvove.Govorili chto u nas tut byl kostiol, v Makeevke, no ia ego ne videla, ne znaiu.Net Boga i vsё.V shkole, net Boga, doma perestali, skazali bolshe ne sprashivaĭ, Boga net.Mne kazhetsia chto kogda vse vezde skazali Boga net, ia chuvstvovala chtoto tak, kakby kogoto ne stalo.Kakby ktoto blizkiĭ umer.I ego net.Tato opowiadał, że [Pol.]ego zaberali, on ubegal, ia ne znaiu kuda ego zabierali.No pustoe mesto, ėto tak, kakby blizkiĭ chelovek umer.Mama umirala i skazala mne v 1974 godu, ishchi Boga, ty katolichka i pol'ka, pomni ėto navsegda.I uchi svoikh deteĭ, no ne srazu' (Female, 81, Donetsk).
with whom I used to be very friendly were afraid to show their faces in church in case they should lose their daily bread' (after Kuromiya, 1998, p. 156).In 1930, the Catholic church in Makiivka was closed down pending plans of turning it into a cinema, and the crosses and graves in the cemetery had been destroyed in preparation for works on a public park on the site.'Ethnic Germans and Poles became politically suspect as potential fifth columns.In 1933, the Soviet secret police uncovered a German espionage organisation'; in the same year, the Polish Military Organisation (Polska Organizacja Wojskowa, POW) was liquidated on charges of remaining 'in the service of Polish landowners and Ukrainian nationalists scheming to invade and destroy the Soviet Union' (after Kuromiya, 1998, p. 175).
The above quotations from the informants reveal considerable differences in the sphere of religion.The informant from Donetsk was baptised, but later had to forget about God and religion altogether.In another fragment of her account (not quoted in the article), she talks how she abandoned everything that was Catholic and Polish, which included naming her children Liudmila and Igor 'so that no one would know who we were', (chtoby nikto ne znal kem my).Indeed, in order to protect the life of their children, Polish parents gave them 'the best Soviet' (naĭluchshie sovetskie) names to conceal their ethnic origin and made an effort to raise them in the same way as everyone else around to conform to the general pattern of life, culture, language and behaviour of the socalled Soviet nation ('we had to do what everyone did', nado bylo kak vse).As an adolescent, the informant could not understand why her life was deprived of God and religion.She faced the next question concerning religion in her life when her dying mother asked her to find religion and language she had once lost.
On the other hand, the account from Bukovina reveals an entirely different picture as regards religion.The informant was born when the province was part of Romania, a country where religion was not persecuted.The situation changed when the region was taken over by the Soviet Union.In spite of the official ban on religious services, the Roman Catholic church in Chernivtsi remained open throughout the period of Soviet rule.She recalls that although people were afraid to openly declare themselves as believers, they 'quietly did their own thing' (pocichońku my sobie tam swoje robili).They baptised their children, celebrated Easter, Christmas and other religious occa sions in their families and in the church in Chernivtsi.It is also worth noting that the informant devoted a lot of time to working at the church, secretly helped the priests and taught religion.
The accounts also include comments on the command and use of language, as both informants are multilingual and use different languages in different spheres of their lives: The accounts reveal similarities and differences in the patterns of language use in different domains, depending on the neighbourhood, work and family environment.Other important factors include social involvement and membership in the Roman Catholic community.While in the case of both informants the language of private prayers is Polish, the one from Donetsk attends religious services in Russian.On the other hand, the informant from Bukovina uses Polish in the entire sphere of religion, including pri vate prayers, confession and the Mass.She speaks Polish in the family and with friends, Ukrainian -mainly in public institutions, Romanian -with friends and neighbours, as most of them are Romanians and Ukrainians speaking the local dialects.

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[internal] passport, so that I wouldn't have any problems, you know, and I put my children down as Russians as well.But I know I'm Polish; I'm trying to fulfil my mother's last will.I think she's proud up there in heaven when she can see me and hear me say that I'm Polish.It's all of her making.I don't think you have to know the language to be Polish; and I'm of Polish faith, as they used to say; we've got a Polish [Roman] Catholic priest here.And I know it for sure that I have a Polish soul; the Russian soul is different.(Female, 81, Donetsk)14 Bukovina: I'm Polish because I can speak and read Polish and I'm from a Polish family, so who else would I be?It's normal here, everyone knows who they are.It's the same with Romanians, they wouldn't say they are Ukrainians; no one would do that just to please the authorities.We know our ethnicity around here; everyone knows their origin, everyone holds on to theirs, but we all respect the neighbours.We invite one another; on religious holidays, they visit us and we visit them.Young people change their religion when they get married; even so, everyone here knows their origin and holds on to it.That's what it's like.(Female,82,Bukovina)15 The account from Donetsk indicates that although the informant realises that Polish ethnic origin can already be openly declared and she is ready to do so, there is no one to whom she could talk about it.Amidst the mass of the 'Soviet nation', she keeps her Polish identity in her heart and talks about it only with visitors from Poland, if they comment that she is Polish.She was so deeply touched by her mother's last words that she finds it difficult to cope with her revelation even today, but declares that her 'mum's last will has to be fulfilled' (zaveshchaniie mamy nado ispolnit').
Such situations are not uncommon in southeastern Ukraine.A survey of the Polish minority in Donetsk reveals that 63% of the respondents consider themselves Polish because at least one of their parents is/was of Polish extraction, 20% because they are Roman Catholic, 10% because one of their relatives was Polish, and 4% because they know the Polish language (i.e., they have learned it) (Krasowska, 2012, p. 293).
In the case of the informant from Bukovina, the criteria of Polishness involve religion, tradition and ethnic origin of the parents.The account indicates that she has a clearly defined sense of ethnicity and finds it easy to declare it: 'everyone knows I'm Polish, I've never made a secret of it' (przecież wszyscy wiedzą, że jestem Polką, nigdy tego nie ukrywałam).What played a considerable role in her case was membership in the Roman Catholic Church and attending religious services, as the Church has always been considered the stronghold of Polish identity.
The accounts presented above are not an exception.Indeed, all similar auto biographical interviews include the topics of war, life in the Soviet Union, religion, language, and Polish identity.
Kaja Kaźmierska suggests that 'although today it is merely a sociological banality to observe the mutual dependence between these two dimensions of memory (bio graphical and collective, as well as their interactions), demonstrating the dynamics of their relation on a particular example illustrates its social, cultural and biographical consequences' (Kaźmierska, 2009, p. 44).
The accounts of the everyday life of Poles in the UkrainianRussian and Ukrai nianRomanian borderlands show important differences concerning their experience of war.In Bukovina, which used to be part of Romania, Poles display a much more consolidated sense of national identity.Despite the restrictions of Soviet authorities, they gathered around the Roman Catholic Church and the institution of family, and taught the Polish language in private homes.This explains a continuity of their tradi tions, language, culture and memory.
On the other hand, Poles in Eastern Ukraine were cut off from contact with Poland, the Roman Catholic Church and Polish organisations throughout the Soviet period.Geographically dispersed and living in fear of their social environment, Polish families experienced the loss of loved ones and faced severe punishment for declaring identity other than 'Soviet'.Another factor at play was a relatively high rate of mixed marriages.
The memory of contact with the Soviets is similar in both borderlands.The con duct of the new authorities was the same everywhere and the examples quoted in the article represent a broader issue which is worthy of a separate study.

From individual to collective identity: the case of autobiographical accounts from the Ukrainian
Russian and UkrainianRomanian borderlands

Abstract
The article presents the problem of cultural memory of Poles from two different regions of Ukraine, the southeast of the country and Carpathian Bukovina.It examines the following five main topic areas: the Second World War, life after the war (including the problem of the Russians), the issue of the Roman Catholic religion, the language question, and the problem of declaration of Polishness today.The accounts of the every day life of Poles in the UkrainianRussian and UkrainianRomanian borderlands show important differences concerning their experience of war.In Bukovina, which used to be part of Romania, Poles display a much more consolidated sense of national identity.Despite the restrictions imposed by Soviet authorities, they gathered around the Roman Catholic Church as well as the institution of family, and taught the Polish language in private homes.This explains a continuity of their traditions, language, culture, and memory.On the other hand, throughout the Soviet period the Poles in Eastern Ukraine were cut off from contacts with Poland, the Roman Catholic Church and Polish organisations.Geographically dispersed and living in fear in their social environment, Polish families experienced a loss of their loved ones and faced severe punishment for declaring identity other than 'Soviet'.Another factor at play was a relatively high rate of mixed marriages.
Słowa kluczowe: pamięć kulturowa; historia mówiona; Donbas; Bukowina; Polacy na Wschodzie Dr. hab.Helena Krasowska is a professor and the Deputy Director for Academic Research of the Institute of Slavic Studies of the Polish Academy of Sciences.A spe cialist in Slavic philology, she is the author of over two hundred research papers; she also authored five and coauthored six monographs.Her research interests focus on dialectology, sociolinguistics and folklore.She conducts fieldwork among Poles in My mum taught me how to pray.I still remember'Ojcze Nasz' [Pol.'OurFather']and'Zdrowaśka'[Pol.colloq.'HailMary']andall the prayers in Polish.My mum was a believer and so was my dad, from a [Roman] Catholic family.I was baptised in Lvov [Ukr.Lviv].They told me there had been a church here in Makeevka [Ukr.Makiivka], but I've never 9 Original transcript: 'Nu posle voĭny bylo ochen' tiazhelo zhit'.Chuzhikh russkikh naekhalo.Tol'ko oni komandovali.Vse mesta khoroshye to zanimali russkie i kamandovali.Strashno, nas imeli za zvereĭ.Ia dazhe ne znaiu kak rasskazat'.Kazhdyĭ den' byl strashnyĭ i tiazholyĭ.Posle voĭny vsё rozrusheno, vse liudi zlye i mnogo naekhalo chuzhikh russkikh i ponimaete oni byli plokhye liudi, oni nad nami iznushchalis'.Esli oni by znali chto ia pol'ka, mogli i ubit'.My doma tol'ko na russkom iazyke, kak i vse vokrug.Stalis' my takimi russkimi kak i vse zhiteli goroda.No ne znaiu s nas sdelali sovetskikh liudeĭ, chtob my vse byli odinakovy.I tak vot my vse zdes' sovetskie.Ia i segodnia boius' skazat' chto ia pol'ka, ėto strashno dla menia'(Female, 81, Donetsk). Donetsk: You know, it's really important for me to pray in Polish.I can understand Polish, but I can't speak it.My mum had good Polish, but she never spoke it; 'the walls have ears', she said.295 I like Polish because my mum told me we were Poles.She didn't teach us [Polish]; when she was dying, she said 'teach your children'.And how can I teach them?One is an executive (nachalnik), my daughter also has a good job, how can I tell them?I can't tell them anything.I don't know, I might tell them when I'm dying, just like my mother told me.We speak Russian every day, and its Ukrainian with the neighbour; I pray quietly in Polish and that's how I live.(Female, 81, Donetsk)12 Bukovina: My language is Polish; I'm Polish, so I speak it.We've always tried to speak Polish at home.It was Russian at work, you know, there were the new Soviet authorities, so it was Russian.In the street, it's Ukrainian; and I speak Romanian with Romanians.I went to a Romanian school, you know, so I can speak Romanian with Romanians just like I'm speaking Polish to you now.And later I had to learn Russian because it was ordered by the authorities; alright, so be it.Today, in the old age, Polish and Romanian are enough for me.(Female, 82, Bukovina)13 Donetsk: