
Index
The Early Victories
Rising Complications
Foreign Relations
The Pereiaslav Agreement
Excerpt from Ukraine - A History Subtelny, Orest. University of Toronto
Press. Toronto: 1988.
Rarely do individuals dominate epochal developments as completely as did Bohdan
Kmelnytsky the great Ukrainian uprising of 1648. Because of his great personal
impact on events that changed the course of Ukrainian and East European
history, scholars consider him to be Ukraine's greatest military and political
leader. Yet, his debut as a major actor on the historical stage occurred late
in life and was almost accidental. Born in about 1595, Khmelnytsky was the son
of a minor Ukrainian nobleman named Mykhailo, who was the servitor of a Polish
magnate. For his services Mykhailo obtained an estate in Subotiv; he sent
Bohdan to a Jesuit school in Jaroslav where he received a good education by the
standards of the time, mastering Polish and Latin. In 1620, tragedy struck. In
the great victory over the Poles at Cecora the elder Khmelnytsky was killed and
Bohdan taken captive. After two years in captivity, Khmelnytsky returned to
Subotiv, entered the ranks of the registered Cossacks, married, and
concentrated on expanding his estate. Cautious and well established, he avoided
involvement in the uprisings of 1625 and 1638. His good standing with the
government led to a brief tenure as chancellor of the Zaporozhian Host and to
his participation in a Cossack delegation to the Polish king, Wladyslaw IV, in
1646. By the time Khmelnytsky, now a captain in the Chyhyryn Cossack regiment,
had reached the age of 50, it appeared that the bulk of a moderately successful
career was already behind him.
But a typical case of magnate acquisitiveness and arrogance completely altered
Khmelnytsky's life and with it the course of the country's history. In 1646
during his absence from Subotiv, Daniel Czaplinski, a Polish nobleman backed by
local magnates, laid claim to Khmelnytsky's estate, raided it, killed his
youngest son, and abducted the woman the recently widowed Cossack captain
intended to marry. When numerous appeals to the court brought him no
satisfaction, the infuriated Khmelnytsky resolved to lead a revolt against the
Poles. This rapid transformation from a respected member of the establishment
to raging rebel was not completely out of character. In later years observers
often remarked about the Cossack leader's split personality. Swarthy and
stocky,"Khmel", as he was popularly called, was usually reserved,
unpretentious, courteous, and even somewhat phlegmatic. But he could
unexpectedly explode in a torrent of passion, energy, and charismatic appeal.
In such moments, his speech became mesmerizing, his ideas at once fascinating
and frightening, and his will to have his way unshakable.
The mesmerizing influence Khmelnytsky could exert on the masses became evident
when, hounded by the Poles who had caught wind of his plans, he fled to the
Zaporozhian Sich with a handful of followers in January 1648. In short order he
persuaded the Zaporozhians to support him, expelled the Polish garrison from
the Sich, and managed to have himself elected Hetman. At first, the gathering
rebellion had all the features of the previous, unsuccessful uprisings: a
vengeful Cossack officer, wronged by magnates, making his way to the Sich and
persuading the Zaporozhians to stand up for their (and his) rights. But, in
Khmelnytsky's case, his exceptional talents as an organizer, military leader,
and politician made the crucial difference.
For more than a year before arriving at the Sich, he had plotted an uprising
and established a network of supporters. Realizing that the Cossack's great
weakness in fighting the Poles was lack of cavalry, Khmelnytsky found an
audacious solution to the problem: he approached the Crimean Tatars, the
Cossacks' traditional enemies with a proposal for an alliance against the
Poles. His timing was perfect. At precisely the same time that his envoys
arrived Crimea, the khan's relations with the Poles had become extremely
strained and he sent Tuhai-Bey, a noted commander, with 4000 Tatars to the
Cossacks' aid. In the spring of 1648, forewarned of Khmelytsky's actions, the
Poles moved their army to the south to nip the rebellion in the bud.
In mid April 1648, at Zhovti Vody, not far from Sich, a confident Polish
advance guard of 6000 men confronted the combined Cossack/Tatar force of about
9000. On 6 May, after prolonged fighting, which resulted in the desertion to
the rebels of several thousand registered Cossacks who had been sent to aid the
Poles, the Polish advance guard was annihilated. Astounded by the news and
convinced by a Cossack prisoner (planted expessedly for this purpose) that the
rebels greatly outnumbered them,Marcin Kalinowski and Mikolaj Potocki, the two
commanders of the 20,000-man main army abandoned their strong positions near
Korsun and retreated through difficult terrain, led by a guide who was a secret
agent of the Hetman. Not far from Korsun, on 26 May, the Poles were ambushed by
the Cossacks (whose forces had grown to 15,000 not including Tatar cavalry)
and, once again, were completely crushed. Both Polish commanders, 80 important
noblemen, 127 officers, 8520 soldiers, and forty-one cannons fell into
Khmelnytsky's hands. To add to the Poles' misfortunes, only six days before the
battle of Korsun, King Wladyslaw IV died. Just as hordes of rebels were
gathering in the south, the Commonwealth had suddenly lost its king, its
commanders, and its army.
While Khmelnytsky's victories stunned the poles, they electrified the
Ukrainians. First on the Right Bank and then on the Left Bank, Cossacks,
peasants, and burghers rushed to form regiments and either joined the hetman
or, led by numerous local leaders, staged mini-rebellions of their own. Many
peasants and Cossacks used the opportunity to vent pent-up hatred against their
oppressors. The so-called "Eye Witness Chronicle" paints a frightful
picture of these events:"Wherever they found szlachta, royal
officials or Jews they killed them all, sparing neither women nor children.
They pillaged the estates of Jews and nobles, burned [Catholic] churches and
killed theirpriests, leaving nothing whole. It was a rare individual in those
days who had not soaked his hands in blood and participated in the
pillage" Within a few months, almost all Polish nobles, officials, and
priests had been wiped out or driven from Ukraine. Jewish losses were
especially heavy because they were the most numerous and accessible
representatives of the szlaachta regime. Between 1648 and 1656, tens of
thousands of Jews - given the lack of reliable data, it is impossible to
establish more accurate figures - were killed by the rebels, and to this day
Kmelnytsky's uprising is considered by the Jews to be one of the most traumatic
events in their history.
Whenever they had the opportunity, the Polish magnates and nobles responded to
the massacres in kind. The most notorious practitioner of szlachta
terror tactics was Jeremi Wisniowiecki, the wealthiest magnate in the land.
When the rebellion caught him on his estates on the Left Bank, Wisniowiecki
mustered his well trained private army of 6000, gathered together as many of
the terrified nobles, priests, and Jews as he could, and set off on an epic,
roundabout retreat to the west. Everywhere his forces moved, they tortured and
killed Cossacks, peasants, women, children, leaving behind then a grisly trail
of corpses. Although Wisniowiecki's feats won him adulation in Poland, they so
infuriated the Ukrainian masses that they would brook no talk of compromise and
vowed to fight him to the death.
During the summer, Khmelnytsky, who was based near Bila Tserkva, concentrated
on molding his numerous followers into a disciplined, well-organized army. Its
core was made up of sixteen regiments of battle tested Cossacks led by such
proven and respected colonels as Filon Dzahali, Maksym Nestorenko and Ivan
Hyria. However, experienced and gifted Ukrainian noblemen like Danylo Nechai,
Ivan Bohun, and Myhailo Krychevsky, and townsmen like Martyn Nebaba, and Vasyl
Zolotarenko, were also awarded colonels maces. A large auxiliary force of light
cavalry was led by Wisniowiecki's bitter rival Maksym Krivonis, one of the most
popular rebel leaders. As volunteers continued to pour in, new units were
created; by the end of the summer, the Ukrainian forces numbered between 80,000
and 100,000. Of these only about 40,000 were regular Cossack troops.
The Poles also made good use of their time. In order to hold off the rebels
they engaged Khmelnytsky in desultory negotiations and, at the same time,
mobilized 32,000 noblemen and 8000 German mercenaries. As their forces,
outfitted in the glittering finery that the szlachta so loved, gathered
near Lviv, an observer remarked that the Poles were going to war not with iron
but with gold and silver. The new Polish army was lead by three magnates: the
indolent, luxury-loving Dominik Zaslwski, the erudite Latinist Mikolaj Ostorog,
and the 19-year-old Aleksander Koniecpolski. Khmelnytsky sarcastically referred
to them as peryna (the feather down bed), latyna (the Latinist),
and dytyna (the child). On 2 September, the opposing armies met at
Pylavtsi. During the battle, the Polish commanders lost their nerve and fled
and, as the news spread, the rest of the army followed suit. Within hours this
once splendid force was completely decimated by the Cossacks and their Tatar
allies.
After Pylavtsi, there was nothing to stand in Khmelnytsky's way. As he advanced
to the into the West Ukrainian lands of Volhynia and Galacia, the peasants
welcomed him and joined the uprising. Even in southern Poland, downtrodden
peasants were heard to utter, "If God were only so kind to give us a
Khmelnytsky also the we would teach those nobles what they get for oppressing
peasants." In early October, the Cossack/peasant armies besieged Lviv and
were about to take it when a huge ransom and Khmelnytsky's reluctance to
destroy the beautiful city saved it. A month later, while preparing to besiege
the Polish fortress a Zamosc, news arrived that the man Khmelnytsky preferred
to see on the throne, Jan Casimir, had been elected king and had offered the
hetman an armistice.
It has always been a puzzle to historians why Khmelnytsky, who at this point
was in a position to destroy the Commonwealth, chose to accept the offer and
return to the Dnieper. Apparently, he still hoped to modify the political
system of the Commonwealth so that it would accomodate the Cossacks. Moreover,
famine and plague were taking their toll of his troops and of the Ukrainian
populace as whole. And the hetman's Tatar allies were eager to return home.
Under these conditions it seems that he did not wish to conduct a winter
campaign. Early in January 1649, at the head of a triumphant army, Khmelnytsky
returned to Kiev, where he received a tumulous welcome and was hailed by the
assembled Orthodox hierarchy as "the second Moses" who had
"liberated his people from Polish slavery."
Even after Khmelnytsky's dramatic victories, the relationship between Poles
and Ukrainians remained unclarified. While the hetman had not yet decided to
break off all ties with the Commonwealth, he knew that his followers were
determined not to return to pre-1648 conditions. For their part, the Poles were
willing to make minor concessions to the Cossacks, but they still insisted that
Ukraine return to szlachta rule. The impasse produced a recurrent
pattern: year after year, the two sides would go to war, but because they were
unable to defeat each other decisively, they would conclude their exhausting
campaigns with negotiated, unsatisfying settlements, after which they would
return home to prepare militarily and diplomatically for yet another war.
In the spring of 1649, it was the Poles who went on the offensive. As their
main force of 25,000, led by King Jan Casimir himself, advanced from Volhynia,
another force of 15,000 commanded by the notorious Jeremi Wisniowiecki, moved
through Galacia. Responding with his usual deceptiveness and speed, Khmelnytsky
and his Tatar ally, Khan Islam Girei, blockaded Wisniowiecki in the Zbarazh
fortress with a force of 80,000. When the Polish King hastened to
Wisniowiecki's aid, Khmelnytsky, in a surprise maneuver, attacked and
surrounded Jan Casimir's army near Zboriv. But, just at the point when the
Poles were about to go down in defeat at both Zbarazh and Zboriv, the Tatar
khan betrayed the hetman. Bribed by the Poles and worried by the growing
strength of the Ukrainians, Islam Girei withdrew his forces and demanded that
Khmelnytsky reach a negotiated settlement with the Polish king. Under the
circumstances, the hetman had no choice but to comply.
On 18 August 1649, the Zboriv treaty was concluded. it set the register at
40,000, banned the Polish army and Jews from the provinces of Kiev, Bratslav,
and Chernihiv where only the Cossack starshyna and Orthodox noblemen
were allowed to hold public office, and promised the Orthodox metropolitain a
seat in the Polish senate. Although amnesty was granted to all who had
participated in the uprising, most peasants were required to return to
servitude. Polish noblemen, in contrast, were allowed to reclaim their estates.
Only Tatar pressure had forced Khmelnytsky to sign this unfavorable agreement,
which caused great discontent throughout Ukraine. But as the Poles believed that
they had given up too much and the Cossacks were convinced that they had
received too little, the treaty was never fully implemented.
The Zboriv agreement highlighted an external problem that Khmelnytsky would
have to face. The fact that peasant interests had practically been ignored at
Zboriv was no oversight. Although Khmelnytsky, most of his commanders, and many
registered Cossacks wished to improve the lot of the peasants, they had no
intention of liquidating serfdom altogether. For the Cossack elite, Khmelnytsky
included, such an act would have meant undermining the socioeconomic system in
which it had a considerable stake. Thus, already at Zboriv, a conflict of
interests between the Cossack starshyna elite and the chern, or
rank and file. In time, it would prove to be the fatal weakness of the Cossack
order that was emerging in Ukraine.
The relationship with the Tatars was the other major problem. Realizing their
importance in his recent victories and in the continuing confilct with the
Poles, Khmelnytsky wished to maintain alliance with them at all costs. Among
the Ukrainian masses, however, the alliance was most unpopular because, as a
price for Tatar aid, the hetman had to allow his allies to take iasyr,
or captives. While Khmelnytsky hoped to satisfy the Tatars with Polish
prisoners, the Crimeans often took what was at hand and this meant that many
thousands of Ukrainian peasants were driven off into slavery. Moreover, Tatar
policy was not to let any Christian power grow too strong. Therefore although
they backed Khmelnytsky against the Poles, the Tatars would not allow him to
defeat them completely. Having used Khmelnytsky to weaken Poland, the Crimean
Khan also planned to utilize the Ukrainian Cossacks in similar fashion against
Moscow. But because Khmelnytsky had great hopes of obtaining aid from the
Muscovites, he diverted the Crimean plans to launch joint Tatar/Cossack attack
against Moscow by proposing instead a joint campaign in 1650 against Moldavia,
which was rich, more vulnerable, and more accessible. For the next few years,
Khmelnytsky became intensely involved in Moldavian affairs and even hoped to
make his son, Tymish ruler of the land, thereby drawing it into close alliance
with Ukraine. However, in 1653, Tymish's death during the defense of Succeava
brought the costly Moldavian venture to an unsuccessful end.
Meanwhile in 1651, another round in the Polish-Ukrainian War had begun. Again
it was the Poles, led by Jan Casimir, who went on the offensive and again it
was in Volhynia, near the town of Berestechko, that the two armies clashed. By
the standards of the time, the size of the opposing forces was huge: the Polish
army numbered around 150,000 men, including 20,000 experienced German
mercenaries, while the Ukrainians mustered over 100,000 men plus about 50,000
Tatar cavalry. On 18 June, an almost two week-long battle began that ended in
crushing defeat for Khmelnytsky's forces. A deciding factor in the defeat was
the actions of the Tatars who, at a crucial juncture, withdrew from the battle.
To make matters worse, when Khmelnytsky entreated them to return to the
fighting, they abducted him. He was released only after the battle. Under
difficult circumstances, the Cossacks, ably led by Filon Dzahalali, managed to
extricate some of the forces from Polish encirclement, but at a decisive moment
panic broke out and a part of the Cossack army, numbering an estimated 30,000
men perished under the Polish onslaught. The massive battle was also costly to
the victorious Poles and near Bila Tserkva they initiated negotiations.
As might be expected, the Bila Tserkva agreement, signed on 28 September 1651
was much less generous to the Cossacks than the Zboriv treaty had been. The
Cossack register was reduced to 20,000; the hetman's authority was limited only
to the Kiev province; and he was forbidden to maintain foreign contacts,
especially with the Tatars. This time, with the Cossacks in disarray and
Khmelnytsky unprepared to offer resistance, it appeared that the conditions of
the treaty would be implimented. Backed by Polish troops, the Polish nobility
began to return to Ukraine. Except for the relative few who were included in
the register, most of the peasants and Cossacks again faced serfdom. In order
to avoid their inevitable fate, thousands fled across the border into Muscovite
territory, where they were well received and allowed to establish the Cossack
system, thus laying the foundation for what came to be called Sloboda Ukraine,
with its locus in the present day Kharrkiv region.
Despite appearances to the contrary, Khmelnytsky had no intention of accepting
these humiliating conditions and, in April 1652, a secret meeting of the major
Cossack leaders was held at his residence in Chyhyryn where it was decided to
assemble new forces and to renew hostilities against the Poles. Within weeks,
Khmelnytsky's forces attacked a 30,000-man Polish army station at Batih on the
border of Podilla and Moldavia, and on 1 May completely demolished it. As
revenge for the defeat at Berestechko, the Cossacks killed all their Polish
prisoners.
As news of the victory spread, uprisings against the Polish nobility again
flared up and Cossack troops occupied much of the territory they had held
before Berestechko. However, by now it was evident that the years of tremendous
bloodletting and destruction were taking their toll. Both the Poles and
Ukrainians were less eager to fight and campaigns dragged on inconclusively as
the two sides circled each other like exhausted boxers, unable to administer
the decisive blow.
Khmelnytsky realized that if his uprising was to succeed, it needed foreign
support. Therefore, he turned his attention more and more to foreign relations.
He scored his first diplomatic victory by drawing the Crimean Tatars into
alliance with the Cossacks. But the Tatar alliance proved to be unreliable and
transitory. Moreover, it did not resolve Khmelnytsky's key problem of defining
Ukraine's relationship to the Commonwealth. At first, the Hetman was not ready
for a complete break. His goal in dealing with the Commonwealth, ably
represented by the leading Orthodox magnate, Adam Kysil, had been to obtain
autonomy for the Cossacks in Ukraine by making it a separate and equal
component of the Commonwealth. But the stubborn refusal of the szlachta
to accept their former subordinates as political equals precluded the
possibility of ever achieving that goal.
To the modern mind, which views national sovereignty as a national condition
(although the concept did not gain wide currency until after the French Revolution
of 1789), the question arises of why Khmelnytsky did not declare independence
for Ukraine. During the uprising there were, in fact, rumours to the effect
that he wished to reestablish the "old Rus' principality", and even
that he planned to form a separate "Cossack principality". Although
such ideas may have been considered, it would have been impossible under the
circumstances to realize them. As the interminable wars demonstrated, the
Cossacks, although able to administer severe defeats to the Poles, were
incapable of permanently preventing theszlachta from launching repeated
efforts to regain Ukraine. To assure themselves a lasting victory over the
Poles, Khmelnytsky needed the continuing and reliable support of a major
foreign power. The usual price of such aid was acceptance of the overlordship
of the ruler who provided it. In the vie of the masses, the main thrust of the
uprising was to redress socioeconomic ills, and to many in Ukraine the question
of whether these problems were to be resolved under their own or under foreign
rule was of secondary importance. Finally, in 17th-century Eastern Europe
sovereignty rested not in the people but in the person of a legitimate (that
is, generally recognized) monarch. Because Khmelnytsky, despite his popularity
and power, did not possess such legitimacy, he had to find for Ukraine an
overlord who did. At issue was not self-rule for Ukraine, for Ukrainians
already had gained it. Their goal was to find a monarch who could provide their
newly formed autonomous society with legitimacy and protection.
In Khmelnytsky's opinion a good candidate for the role of Ukraine's patron and
protector in the international arena was the Ottoman Sultan. He was powerful
enough to discourage the Poles from attacking Ukraine and distant enough not to
interfere overly much in its internal affairs. Thus, in 1651, after an exchange
of embassies, the Ottoman Porte formally accepted the hetman and the
Zaporozhian Host as its vassals on the similar loose conditions that obtained
with regard to Crimea, Moldavia, and Wallachia. However, widespread animosity
in Ukraine toward an "infidel" overlord, and internal changes in the
Ottoman Porte, prevented this arrangement from ever taking effect.
A much more popular candidate for the role of Ukraine's protector was the
Orthodox tsar of Moscow. From the start of the uprising, Khmelnytsky had
entreated the tsar, in the name of their shared Orthodox faith, to come to his
aid. But Moscow's response had been extremely cautious. Badly mauled in the recent
war with Poland, the Muscovites preferred to wait for the Cossacks and Poles to
exhaust each other and then to take appropriate action. However, by 1653, with
the Ukrainians threatening to choose the Ottoman option, the Muscovites could
not put off an official decision any longer. Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich called a
general assembly, which decided that, "for the sake of the Orthodox Faith
and God's Holy Church, the Gosudar [monarch] should accept them under
His High Hand." In reaching their decision, the Muscovites also expected
to regain some of the lands they had lost to Poland, to utilize Ukraine as a
buffer zone against the Ottomans, and in general, to expand their influence.
In the final days of 1653, a Muscovite embassy, led by the boyar Vasilii
Buturlin, met with the hetman, colonels, and general staff of the Zaporozhian
Host in the town of Pereiaslav, near Kiev. On 18 January 1654, Khmelnytsky
called a meeting of the Cossack elite and the final decision was taken to accept
the tsar's overlordship of Ukraine. On that day, drummers summoned the populace
to the town square where the hetman spoke about Ukraine's need for an overlord,
presented the four potential candidates for such a position - the Polish king,
the Tatar Khan, the Ottoman Sultan, and the Muscovite tsar- and declared that
the Orthodox tsar was best suited for the role. Pleased that the choice had
fallen on an Orthodox ruler, the crowd responded favorably to the hetman's
speech. Buturlin, Khmelnystky and the assembled Cossack dignitaries then
proceeded to the town church to seal the decision with a mutual oath. At this
point, an unexpected development created a tense impasse. Under the influence
of Polish practice, Khmelnytsky expected the oath to be bilateral, with the
Ukrainians swearing loyalty to the tsar and the latter promising to protect
them from the Poles and to respect their rights and priviledges. But Buturlin
refused to swear in the name of his monarch, arguing thatthe tsar, unlike the
Polish king, was an absolute ruler and it was below his dignity to take an oath
to his subjects. Upset by Buturlin's refusal, Khmelnytsky stalked out of the
church and threatened to cancel the entire agreement. Nonetheless, Buturlin
steadfastly held his ground. Finally, Khmelnytsky and his colleagues, fearful
of losing the tasr's aid because of what appeared to be a mere formality,
glumly agreed to take a unilateral oath of loyalty to the tsar.
Shortly thereafter, Muscovite officials were sent to 117 Ukrainian towns, and 127,000
people took a similar oath of loyalty to Tsar Aleksei Mikhailovich and his
successors.The significance of the dramatic incident at the Pereiaslav church
was that it highlighted the different political values and assumptions with
which both parties had entered into the agreement. Yet, these differences
notwithstanding, the Pereiaslav agreementwas concluded and it marked a turning
point in the history of Ukraine, Russia, and all of Eastern Europe. Previously
isloated and backward, Muscovy now took a giant step toward becoming a great
power. And, for better or for worse, the fate of Ukraine became inextricably
linked with that of Russia. [...] It is difficult to overestimate Khmelnytsky's
impact on the course of Ukrainian history. Ukrainian, Polish, and Russian
hitorians have compared his achievementsto those of such giants of 17-th
century history as Cromwell of England or Wallestein of Bohemia. Studies of the
hetman and his age frequently stress his ability to creat so much from so
little. Where a Ukrainian political entity had long since ceased to exist, he
established a new one; out of hordes or unruly peasants and Cossacks he molded
powerful, well-organized armies; from among a people abandoned by their
traditional elite he found and united around him new, dynamic leaders. Most
important, in a society bereft ot self-confidence and a clear sense of
identity, he instilled pride in itself and a will to defend its interests. An
example of the momentous change in Ukrainian attitudes brought about by Khmelnytsky
is provided by the words of a simple Cossack captain addressed to a high Polish
official: "In regard to Your Grace's recent letter stating that we, the
common people, should not dare to address such high officials as a [Polish] Wojewoda,
it should be known that we are now, thanks be to God, no longer common people
but knights of the Zaporozhian Host... and, may God grant the Lord Bohdan
Khmelnytsky health, we are now ruled by our colonels and not by your wojewody
by our captains and not by your starosty and by our otamany and
not by your judges."
Clearly Khmelnytsky had his share of setbacks, mistakes, and miscalculations.
There was Berestechko, the disastrous Moldavian venture, the failure of the
combined Cossack/Transylvanian campaign into Poland, an, finally the inability
to ensure both Ukraine's enemies and allies would recognize its integrity. For
these failings historians and writers have been quick to take Khmelnytsky to
task. In the mid 19th century, Mykola Kostomarov, the father of modern Ukrainian
historiography, praised Khmelnytsky for establishing the link with Russia and
chided him for his "underhanded" dealings with the Ottomans.
In contrast, Ukraine's greatest poet, Taras Shevchenko, was critical of the
hetman for bringing Ukraine into the Russian sphere. Even more extreme was
Paneleimon Kulish, another leading 19th-century Ukrainian intellectual, who
blamed Khmelnytsky for initiating an era of death, destruction, anarchy and
cultural regression in Ukraine. In the 20th century, Hrushevsky raised doubt of
Khmelnytsky's conciousness of well defined goals and argued that it was events
that controlled the hetman rather than vice versa. Yet the majority of
prominent Ukrainian historians, led by Viacheslav Lypynsky, concluded that the
hetman conciously and systematically attempted to build the basis for Ukrainian
statehood and that without his efforts, the modern rebirth of a Ukrainian state
would have been impossible. Soviet historians are unanimous in their praise of
Khmelnytsky, but for different reasons. They emphasize his role in leading an
uprising of the oppressed masses and especially his unification (or rather
"reunification", as they put it) of Ukraine with Muscovy.
But the fine points of scholarly evaluation have had little effect on the
Ukrainian people's instinctive, unbounded admiration for "Batko (father)
Bohdan". For the vast majority of Ukrainians, both in his day and up to
the present, Khmelnytsky has towered as the great liberator, as the heoric
figure who by force of his personality and his intellect roused Ukrainians from
a centuries-long miasma of passivity and hopelessness and propelled them toward
national and socioeconomic emancipation.