Historian Alexander J. Motyl: "There are enough scholarly works about Ukraine. Now we need to popularize certain topics"

Marta Konyk

Originally appeared in Ukrainian @LB.ua

Alexander J. Motyl is a professor of political science and history at Columbia University and a writer and artist. In 2024, he was a jury member for Encounter: The Ukrainian-Jewish Literary Prize, which addresses the common historical experience and dialogue of the two peoples. Each year, it is awarded for the most influential work of fiction or nonfiction. In 2023, the prize went to Sofia Andrukhovych for the novel Amadoka, and Yuriy Skira won with his book Solid in 2024.

In this conversation, Alexander J. Motyl talks about the dynamics of Ukrainian literature, how he chose an academic career, and why he has written opinion columns for foreign and Ukrainian periodicals instead of scholarly works since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

Could you share about your work on the Encounter prize jury? What observations did you make?

It is striking how many interesting books have appeared about Ukrainian-Jewish relations. Every book on the long list could have won the prize, which is indicative of several things. First, Ukraine has talented scholars and writers. Despite the specific topic, nine talented authors have written nine fascinating books. Second, the texts have approached the Ukrainian-Jewish subject objectively and calmly. The former is understandable, while the latter is very important.

It is a complex topic that can be interpreted in different ways, while there are stereotypical approaches. Finding a calm middle line that represents reality as it was, without special emotions and scandals, was difficult in the past and remained so for a long time. Now, authors have managed to calmly address this topic from different angles. People who read their works come to the conclusion that the material is interesting. The discussion of Ukrainian-Jewish relations is changing at a high level.

It used to be about who killed whom and how many. This stage had to be passed. Now the question is: What stance do we take on these issues together? How can we find a position that suits both you and us? The authors have presented not only a scholarly but also a general understanding of this complex topic.

The Choven publishing house, which brought out Solid, specializes primarily in nonfiction. Its portfolio includes books by Tony Judt and Timothy Snyder, including Snyder's latest book, which was published in the original in September. Its Ukrainian translation was available in bookstores just two months later, in November. Skira has found himself in excellent company!

Yes, indeed! To write a scholarly book, you have to spend time in archives, collect materials, and later put them together. Most researchers do not pay attention to style and readability. What's important for them is presenting facts as they found them based on archival evidence, and that's the end of it. The main task for researchers is to convey information about certain events.

When a researcher is able to present experiences in a fitting style, it's a different category. The work becomes readable not only for a narrow circle of scholars and their students but also for a wider audience. It's difficult to do because not everyone has mastery of style. You need to be both a scholar and a writer. Just as writers are not always [good] scholars, scholars are not always [good] writers. Yuriy Skira has succeeded.

Is there a common thread running through the longlisted books this year?

Each text shows the obvious — Jews were partners in this society, as well as sometimes rivals and enemies to some extent. They have their place here, in Ukrainian politics and the Ukrainian worldview. This means that Ukrainian-Jewish relations are being normalized.

The shortlisted books show what we accept as facts. For example, there were Jewish poets who lived in Bukovina or other Ukrainian cities; Sonia Delaunay, an artist of Jewish origin, had connections to Ukraine. When there is normalization, an entirely different attitude towards the painful issues of Ukrainian-Jewish relations can emerge.

Ukrainians and Jews have lived side by side and had economic, political, and social relations. If we know this, it is easier to understand why there were cases of violence, pogroms, or collaboration, coming either from the Ukrainian side or from the Jewish side. Everything is discussed not as a phenomenon that happened in complete isolation but as something that happened in context. This context is not bad. Ukrainians and Jews lived side by side for hundreds of years, with problematic histories, terrible, and complex on both sides. In general, the bad accounts for 5–10 percent of their relations, while the rest was, so to speak, normal. That is, there is a context for those unfortunate moments in Ukrainian-Jewish relations, which is important for understanding the problematic issues.

What does your personal and family's experience tell you about this?

My parents and family come from Galicia. My father was born in a small village north of Lviv, and my mother was born in a town in the southeast. They lived in Ukraine during World War II and were, to some degree, eyewitnesses to the Holocaust and the extermination of Ukrainians. My mother's closest friend in the 1930s was a Jew who later became a Catholic nun and even ran a cloister in Lviv in the 1990s.

The issues of Jews, Bolshevism, totalitarianism, and Nazism have always interested me from an academic viewpoint, and this interest stemmed from my parents' personal relationships. I did not grow up in such an environment and had no connections with Jews. While writing my dissertation, I became interested in interethnic relations from a comparative perspective. My thesis was about the national question in the Soviet Union and how it could give rise to rebellions and revolutions.

Serious scholars in the field of interethnic relations almost unanimously rejected the approach that emphasized primordialism in explaining interethnic conflicts. That is, the essence of the conflict was not to be sought in the soul of the people and its characteristics, and this conflict was not considered part of the essential existence of an individual people.

They sought explanations among various situational factors: class struggle, ideology, mobilization, war, and conflicts. This was a revelation for me because the treatment of Ukrainian-Jewish relations was mainly as follows: some emphasized the inherent antisemitic qualities among Ukrainians, which had existed for centuries and would probably continue to exist. On the other hand, some Ukrainians spoke about certain qualities that had been inherent in Jews for centuries.

I realized quite fast that this kind of approach simply did not lead anywhere. First, it is erroneous because we know from comparative studies that ethnic groups do not treat each other this way. Second, it is harmful in that it creates an image of a Ukrainian as a wild antisemite and an image of a Jew as a wild Bolshevik or a wild capitalist banker. In that case, finding a common approach that would explain the conflicts and cooperation between these two peoples is impossible. Two stereotypes remain; the main thing is understanding that they are stereotypes.

Just as there is no stereotypical Jewish banker or Bolshevik, there is no stereotypical Ukrainian antisemite. This does not mean that there is no antisemitism and that there were no Jewish bankers. Of course, there were, but this is not their inherent quality, but something that needs to be understood in a historical context. We should discard ideological stereotypes and direct attention to everyday relationships and conflicts emerging from situational contexts. This is the only path to true understanding.

The books on the prize's list are written more or less in this spirit. Their authors realize that stereotypes existed and that people lived in certain contexts. They sometimes did things for one reason and something else at other times. We do not know in advance why exactly there was cooperation and why exactly there were conflicts between Ukrainians and Jews.

The problem with the stereotypical approach is that it knows all the answers in advance. Conflicts occurred because Jews were bankers or Ukrainians were antisemites. When stereotypes are discarded, the question arises: what was it precisely in this context and at this time that made Ukrainians and Jews understand or fail to understand each other?

How did you embark on an academic career in the diaspora?

My answer would have to be something like, "I had a burning desire to discover the truth," but it was quite the opposite. In my fourth year of studies, I did research in the Columbia University library — in a poorly lit part where books were stored away and covered in dust. I clearly remember looking at those books with hatred and making a promise to myself that I would never in my life write scholarly books that would gather dust in libraries. I had no intention of becoming a scholar and wanted to be a painter.

At that time, I also had ambitions of becoming a journalist and signed up for various courses. I wanted to become a correspondent in Paris right away, but they told me at the School of Journalism that I first had to work somewhere in Kansas. Then, I might be transferred to New York, and from there, if I was lucky, to Washington, and so on. I realized that this was not for me. I was not interested in a diplomatic career either, so I found myself in a sort of dead end. Not knowing what I wanted to do, I enrolled in the School of International Relations and Public Affairs at Columbia University. It was not because I was a particular fan of international relations, but because this school offered two-year studies and opened up different opportunities. I tried one thing, then another, and then something else again.

I happened to write a paper for a professor about nationalists and communists in the Volhynian province in the interwar period and their attitude towards the Ukrainian peasantry. The professor liked my paper, but I did not aspire to be a researcher. He said, "Listen, it's so good that you could publish it." I thought, "Is it really possible for a graduate student to publish a paper?" He replied, "Yes, try." I tried, and it came out in 1977.

I then hit a kind of career dead end and decided to do a doctorate in political science, enrolling in a graduate school at Columbia University. I became a political scientist, although I never intended to become a professor, and political science was certainly not my goal. In my first or second year of undergraduate studies, I took a political science course. I wrote a paper, got a terrible grade, and dropped out. I thought, "This is stupid; it's not for me at all." And in the end, I became a political scientist. As you can see, you have to understand the context rather than specific desires because I didn't have any such desire.

I began to paint seriously in the 1990s and to write novels in the late 1990s and early 2000s. There were changes in my attitude towards science. It seemed narrow, and I wanted to try something different, something new. I continue to paint, sometimes exhibit my paintings, and have even sold a few. I wrote eleven novels, none of which has become a bestseller. One is specifically about the Ukrainian-Jewish topic.

How do you see your work on the topic of Ukraine now?

There are enough scholarly works on Ukraine. At the Peterson Literary Fund in Toronto, where I am also on the jury, we finished discussions about 20 English-language submissions. All books on Ukraine are written at a high level, and more than half are penned not by Ukrainians but by Americans, British, etc. So, I am not entirely convinced that the Ukrainian cause needs another book of mine. What Ukraine needs more is the popularization of certain topics, and this is what I have been working on for the past two and a half years. The world already knows that Ukraine exists, but it must also know that a genocidal war is taking place. That is, we need to talk about the relations between Russia and Ukraine and the war itself.

Starting from the Orange Revolution, I wrote for a blog on a website every week for three years. Since the beginning of the full-scale invasion, I produce two or three short texts weekly. I try to highlight Ukraine to some extent, but first of all, focus on the fact that Russia has started a genocidal war; Putin is a fascist, and Putin and Russia will not win.

Since the beginning of the war, I have written about 320 columns. Occasionally, they are somewhat repetitive because there are 5–10 topics in total. People need to be reminded of these specific circumstances and problems. The war continues, and conditions change. You can always find an angle for a slightly different analysis.

When you look at the whole context of the war and the interaction between Ukraine and Russia, it's hard not to conclude that Ukraine is actually winning. I reject propaganda; I am an optimist but not a madman, so I make an argument for optimistic conclusions. Ukraine seems to really need this.

Marta Konyk, journalist

Originally appeared in Ukrainian @LB.ua

Translated from the Ukrainian by Vasyl Starko.