POST-ELECTION REFLECTIONS: This year's Julian calendar Christmas had meaning (01/23/05)

POST-ELECTION REFLECTIONS: This year's Julian calendar Christmas had meaning

by Dr. Lubomyr Luciuk

This year my first Christmas had mettle, my second, meaning.

Many Ukrainians religiously observe Christmas, or "Rizdvo," according to the Julian calendar, on January 7. Yet, like a majority of Canadians, we also celebrate Christmas on December 25.

When I was a boy that was a very good thing. Living within two traditions meant enjoying two feasts, two rounds of gift-getting, even three, for our community also gathered on December 19 in St. Mary's School in Kingston, to mark St. Nicholas Day. He is known as Sviaty Mykolai to Ukrainians. Good kids got treats, bad ones a thorny twig, bestowed by Black Peter, the Devil himself. I am pretty certain that, even then, I knew it was just Mr. Polywkan in black face, but I can't say the prospect of being on the receiving end of what he had to confer was agreeable. At least I now admit I wasn't always good for goodness' sake. Not then.

This year's holidays were different. Enraged over the ham-fisted meddling of Russian President Vladimir Putin in Ukraine's affairs, and particularly over how Moscow's man in Kyiv, Viktor Yanukovych, attempted to vitiate the October 31 national election, millions of Ukrainians took to the streets in peaceful protest. Their Orange Revolution forced the powers-that-were to hold a re-run, on December 26. This time, predictably, the majority's choice, Viktor Yuschenko, won decisively. For weeks, as never before, the world's media carried stories about Ukraine.

Hundreds of Ukrainian Canadians went overseas as election observers, forgoing Christmas at home. I could have gone, but did not. Watching when you don't have the equipment to intervene is just not my style. Still, collectively, those volunteers ensured the fraudsters were foiled. And they achieved more. They focused international attention on Ukraine. I told my teenaged daughter how, when I was her age, many said Ukraine did not exist or was, at best, southern Russia, or a Soviet land. I am certain no one will ever tell her there never was and never will be a Ukraine.

But, as we awaited the results, the Boxing Day tsunami washed all news of Ukraine off the front pages, then brought in a tide of Western aid the likes of which has never been seen. And so, between my first Christmas and my second, global attention properly was diverted from Ukraine. As the horrors that befell our neighbours in South Asia became better known, many were moved to wonder where God went this Christmas. I suspect the answer is that He was there in all that giving. And He certainly brought the gift of hope to Ukraine.

So, as our family has done as far back as I can remember, we gathered on January 6 for Sviat Vechir. According to custom we began when the first star appeared in the eastern sky, leading us to the table just as another star once guided Three Magi to a manger. Father brought in the "didukh," a decorated wheat sheaf, the Grandfather Spirit, linking us to ancestors in a land once known as the breadbasket of Europe. The table was sprinkled with hay, then covered with an embroidered cloth, a reminder that Jesus was born in a stable. After we said our "Lord's Prayer" we exchanged a joyful salutation: "Khrystos Razhdayetsia!" (Christ is Born!) and in reply "Slavite Yoho!" (Let us glorify Him!). Our meal consisted of 12 meatless dishes, the 12 Apostles of the Last Supper, ending with kutia, a porridge of cracked wheat, honey, lemon and poppy seeds - an echo of pagan times.

What set this Sviat Vecher apart were my father's simple words. All his life, he reminded us, he was part of the struggle for Ukraine's independence. Fourteen years ago, with the collapse of the Soviet regime, Ukraine re-emerged in Europe - an internationally recognized state. He hoped - we all did - that Ukraine was free at last. We discovered otherwise.

Yesterday's men were not expectorated, as they should have been. Camouflaged, they and their cronies secured control over Ukraine's wealth, influence over the levers of state power. For over a decade they battened on and corrupted civil society, even killing those who exposed them. But they went too far. Desperate to win this fall's election they poisoned their democratic opponent.

Yet, as Mr. Yushchenko's once-handsome face was disfigured, it became less a horror than an icon, a reminder to the nation of the price of liberty. His agony undid apathy, unleashed the power of the people. And so, as my father said, freedom finally came to Ukraine.

Like our family did this Christmas, many Ukrainians around the world will pause tonight during their celebrations of Ukrainian New Year's Eve, "Malanka," to remember all who helped Ukraine become free. We could not have done it alone. Thank you.

Lubomyr Luciuk teaches political geography at the Royal Military College of Canada.

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