Vitaly Chernetsky: Ukraine is a fresh and powerful collocutor with unique expertise

Vitaly Chernetsky is a prominent American Slavic scholar of Ukrainian origin, and a literary critic and translator who has made significant contributions to the worldwide popularization of Ukrainian literature. A young man from Odesa who “spoke Ukrainian suspiciously well” took a business trip to the States thirty-four years ago and stayed. 

Chernetsky is a Professor at the University of Kansas, past president of the American Association for Ukrainian Studies, and president of the Shevchenko Scientific Society. These roles testify to Chernetsky’s profound role in developing Ukrainian studies in the US. His translations of contemporary Ukrainian authors, including Yuri Andrukhovych, Ostap Slyvynsky, Sofia Andrukhovych, and Iryna Tsilyk, have demonstrated the richness of Ukrainian literature to the English-speaking world.

Chernetsky is the author of “Mapping Postcommunist Cultures,” a work recognized in academic circles around the world. He continues to actively research Ukrainian literature and culture in a world context.

Chytomo: How did you become involved in Slavic studies?

Vitaly Chernetsky: By pure accident — I started out as a German linguist. During perestroika in 1989, my mentor said: “Chernetsky, you are going to America!” I thought it was a joke because it happened on April 1. It was only later that I realized she was serious, and it turned out to be true. Suddenly, as an exchange student, I was going to a very prestigious institution — Duke University in North Carolina.

Chytomo: Let’s go back to your past. You’re from Odesa, aren’t you? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: Yes, I was born in Odesa, graduated from high school in 1986, and planned to enter the Taras Shevchenko National University of Kyiv. I wanted to move for school, but because of the Chornobyl disaster it was scary to move to Kyiv. At our graduation party, the school principal convinced my parents to give me the opportunity to study in Moscow.

As a state, the Soviet Union was extremely centralized, and I went to Moscow to study Romance and Germanic Philology with English as my major. I was aware of the prejudice that existed against people from Odesa, and even anti-Semitism to a certain extent. In Moscow, despite not coming from a Jewish family, I quickly found out what second-hand anti-Semitism was. However, the onset of perestroika brought a sense of objectivity to the exams.

Chytomo: Was it difficult to adapt? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: I was the first person from Odesa in 20 years to enter this major. Living in the heart of the empire made me a more conscious Ukrainian. That’s why I translated “The Moscoviad” by Yuri Andrukhovych into English — the experience of being a Ukrainian in Moscow during the collapse of the Soviet Union was very familiar to me.

I don’t want to be associated with Moscow now, but I studied there at the time. There was a group of poets, including the famous Dmitri Prigov and Lev Rubinstein, and only one woman among them. Nina Iskrenko was a wonderful Russophone poet and a physicist by training. Her public readings were a revelation to me. After that, I decided to pursue literature, particularly contemporary and innovative.

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Chytomo: Did you change your major? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: No, I didn’t. In Moscow, I remained officially a linguist and English specialist. I came to America as a result of an educational exchange program signed as part of the agreement between Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev in Geneva. The program lasted for three years, and I was brought to America during its second year. I didn’t get to choose which U.S. university I attended.

I later understood how lucky I was to be in a place where the most innovative and interesting developments in literary theory and cultural studies took place. Thanks to several renowned professors, especially Fredric Jameson who recently passed and was the most prominent Marxist literary theory professional in the West, I had a unique experience.

Chytomo: Was the shift from Soviet to Western Marxism unexpected? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: As a person from the Soviet Union, it was quite a shock to find myself in a setting where Westerners were discussing Marxism. I had to quickly catch up and learn about the history of independent Western intellectual thought. I discovered that the Soviet Union had censored even Western Marxism and these ideas were completely unknown to us. It was nothing like the material we had been studying from Lenin’s works for teachers.

At that university, there was a war going on inside the Slavic Departmen. Professors were divided into two camps, and each tried to attract me as their new student. This situation created an unpleasant tension.

Russocentrism dominated the department; nothing was related to Ukraine. Exciting things were happening only thanks to Jameson, who chaired the Literature Program. I had no desire to turn toward Slavic studies because of the old dogmatic approaches that were used there. Instead of studying things that were new and interesting, such as Western cultural theory or feminist thought, I would have had to sit in seminars on Old Church Slavonic.

I was interested in contemporary culture. As an exchange student, I came here for one year and was offered to apply for graduate school. This meant that in 1990, I had to return to the Soviet Union and legally leave on my own for the second time. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to arrange it as a business trip at the expense of the host country. So I spent several years on a business trip. Well, I am still on my business trip… 

Chytomo: Are you saying that since 1990 — for 34 years — you have been on the world’s longest business trip?

Vitaly Chernetsky: Something like that. I moved to the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia to study Slavic and Eastern European cultures. I started writing about postmodern literature and thinking more deeply about postcolonialism. My dissertation was half about Russian and half about Ukrainian literature in the context of postmodernism and postcolonialism. I defended my PhD in 1996.

That same year, I was appointed to a job at Columbia University in New York. It was a Ukrainian Studies position, but was a paradox because I had to create an entire program from scratch in the Slavic Department, which was heavily Russocentric. There were Polish, Czech, Serbian, and Croatian languages, which wasn’t so bad. But Ukrainian was relatively sidelined. Russian émigrés viewed me with suspicion due to my Odesa background.

My experience there was contradictory during all seven years. It wasn’t the Russian émigrés who supported me the most, but Mark von Hagen, the director of the Harriman Institute. Von Hagen was a renowned historian who introduced a serious conversation about Ukrainian history into mainstream American and world historical discourses. The  Slavic Review published his article with the provocative title “Does Ukraine Have a History?” Von Hagen has always supported me and helped me so much.

It was an interesting experience, but I had trouble with institutional development because of the marginalization of Ukrainian culture. Some diaspora institutions looked at me with caution, even suspecting that I was a spy.

Chytomo: What surprised you about diaspora life — what did you have to learn?

Vitaly Chernetsky: In New York, it was difficult to find a place where Ukrainians were not divided by religion. Even credit unions existed separately for Orthodox and Greek Catholics. Ukrainians were the only ones with divisions in the banking sector based on religious background. I had never seen this before.

Moreover, their children and grandchildren assimilated, spoke English, and showed less interest in preserving the traditions. Although there were Ukrainian professional organizations, they had largely transformed into English-speaking social clubs. It was more about keeping the community on a basic level with Ukrainian food and music. In calmer times, this was the only element that held the community together.

There was an attempt to create a new bohemia. There are Alex Motyl’s interesting memoirs on this topic, as well as the story of the New York Group [a group of Ukrainian poets who lived in exile]. When a young generation of people brought up in the 1960s came along, a new wave emerged. However, political differences remained, and their echoes continue to this day, although they are less important, especially now in the context of a full-scale invasion.

Chytomo: We see how Ukraine has emerged politically and culturally on the world map. Have we gained subjectivity in the academic world since the academy is a rather rigid structure?

Vitaly Chernetsky: In 2024, I became the president of the Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies. The association was founded in 1948 as an American-based organization but now has international status. I was the first Ukrainian and the first specialist in Ukrainian culture to serve as president of the organization during its history. Before me, about 20 years ago, Mark von Hagen was president. He was a historian and did not have Ukrainian origin, so the situation was different.

I realized the association recognized the need to nominate specialists in Ukrainian culture. It was a shame that for so many years there had been presidents who were experts in Romanian or Polish culture, but never in Ukrainian. Ukraine remained in the shadows. The selection process was competitive. Another Ukrainian studies colleague and I participated in the competition to ensure that someone would represent Ukraine.

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Chytomo: Are there many Ukrainian colleagues in Slavic studies? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: Anyone who managed to make their way in the American or Western Slavic world had to take into account the context of the Cold War, as it was all closely connected to Russian studies. Sometimes it was one hundred percent true and sometimes only partially true.

Ukrainian studies had two oases: the Ukrainian Research Institute at Harvard University and the Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies. Both were established in the early 1970s and became institutions that trained outstanding scholars. However, these scholars often had difficulties finding employment elsewhere, as there were no positions available for experts in Ukrainian studies, even in cities with big Ukrainian diaspora communities such as Chicago, Philadelphia, or New York.

The position I was invited to in 1996 was unique, but my experience there was unpleasant. After I left, the position wasn’t renewed. Now there is a lecturer position for the Ukrainian language and another one, of a coordinator of Ukrainian events and programs at the Harriman Institute, but no professor of Ukrainian studies.

Chytomo: Why does Ukraine remain in the shadows even though there are experts and attempts to establish a program?

Vitaly Chernetsky: My standard answer is about the structural approach. Westerners refused to see Russia as a colonial empire and did not recognize the voices of enslaved peoples. They did not see their agency and experience. Decolonization approaches related to indigenous peoples in North America or former colonies avoided these issues. A Russian-centric approach dominated, where everything interesting was associated only with Moscow, and the rest was considered primitive and provincial.

It took the shock and disaster of this terrible war for some people to finally realize this. For many, it was an existential crisis.

Chytomo: It seems like this is an ongoing existential crisis and collapse for many Russian studies professionals. How can they recognize that their career was built on false ideas? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: A close friend of mine is an expert on the works of Lev Tolstoy and Fiodor Dostoevsky. Although she has always been critical of these authors and their works, she became disgusted with teaching their works after Feb. 24, 2022. She found a way out by moving to an administrative position where she is engaged in reforming the university and no longer teaches. This was her ethical choice.

Her case shows that imperialism is deeply rooted, even among professionals. Not everyone can find a way out of the situation.

Chytomo: It seems that the fear of change is playing a big role. The world is terrified of the collapse of Russia, just as it was terrified of the collapse of the Soviet empire in 1990.

Vitaly Chernetsky: That’s correct. The unknown terrifies. I am very grateful to the activists who are trying to bring this voice of common sense. Botakoz Kassymbekova, a wonderful colleague, lives in Switzerland, where I spent some time in 2024. Kassymbekova is a historian from Kazakhstan, and is one of the biggest allies and most active voices in support of Ukraine and criticism of Russian imperialism.

Kassymbekova was one of the speakers at the Helsinki Commission hearings of the U.S. Congress alongside Timothy Snyder. A Buryat colleague, Maria Vyushkova, and Philip Obadji Jr., an African journalist actively investigating PMC Wagner, were testified with them.

It’s great that Americans listened not only to Snyder, whom I deeply respect, but also to these voices. They spoke very well and came from unexpected angles on what needed to be said.

Chytomo: You are often overseas, but you also spend time in Europe. Do you see differences in the way people abroad perceive Ukraine? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: From July to December this year, I was based in the University of Basel in Switzerland. The Swiss are very quiet and calm; after all, Switzerland is neutral. At the same time, they are active in helping Ukraine. They have a large Ukrainian community too. There is a great intellectual openness towards Ukraine, especially in the German-speaking part of Switzerland.

In the French-speaking part, there is more nostalgia for the great Russian culture, which is also typical of France. However, it’s nice to see how institutions are being reformed, although there is still a lot of outdated stuff. In the courtyard of the Slavic Studies Department, for instance, a bust of Alexander Pushkin hides behind of a large fig tree. It looks silly — a little Pushkin in the bushes.

Chytomo: How about the request to change the course in Slavic studies? Skeptics now say that the wave of great attention has passed, and demands are not significant or have been rolled back.

Vitaly Chernetsky: Processes are very inert in the academic world. Establishing a new position or program is difficult and time-consuming. Oxford originally refused to create a Ukrainian program, but Cambridge agreed. They hired Rory Finnin, my former graduate student at Columbia University. I supervised his master’s thesis and watched him develop as a scholar from his first steps in graduate school. Although he completed his PhD without me, I am extremely proud of his achievements. London has a program, and Oxford is considering it because of its history program.

A few new positions have opened since 2022. The University of California, Berkeley has announced a fundraiser for a professorship in Ukrainian literature. Many universities have included Ukrainian as a Slavic language in their programs. In the U.S., around five new positions were created this year. While there is some demand, it’s still limited and the situation largely depends on how long Ukraine remains in the spotlight. New conflicts and crises, like those in the Middle East and Sudan, shift focus away from Ukraine as they also require attention.

The cultural sector operates slower but is more stable. It takes time for publishing houses to prepare books and translations. There is a shortage of translators, but the situation is improving. Many translations of Ukrainian literature are being prepared for the English-speaking world, and art exhibitions are beginning to attract attention. Despite the tragedy of the war, it has helped Ukraine become more visible on the international stage, especially in the cultural and academic spheres.

Chytomo: What Ukrainian literary works should be translated for the American audience to attract readers and create a better understanding of Ukraine? 

Vitaly Chernetsky: It is difficult to break into the English-language book market with translated literature. Unlike continental Europe, where there are many translations, breakthroughs in America often happen by accident. It may not be a mass-market adventure text, but an interesting work of contemporary literature that turns out to be in demand.

My experience as a translator began in the mid-1990s with “The Moscoviad” by Yuri Andrukhovych. I recently finished translating “Felix Austria” by Sofia Andrukhovych. Books by both authors will be published by mainstream publishers. “Radio Night” and “Amadoka” are also being prepared for release by popular publishers.

Serhiy Zhadan’s books have made a certain breakthrough. Zhadan is read both as a poet and a prose writer. A translation of his new collection of short stories “Arabesques” is being prepared, which, in my opinion, is one of the strongest works about the full-scale invasion.

Interestingly, there are important developments in poetry as well. Arrowsmith and Lost Horse Press have made Ukrainian poetry visible in the English-speaking literary world. Books by Halyna Kruk and Ostap Slyvynsky have become finalists for prestigious awards. Unexpected paths can also open up through the classics.

Sometimes a breakthrough can happen unexpectedly. Markiyan Kamysh’s “Stalking the Atomic City: Life Among the Decadent and the Depraved of Chornobyl” became the first Ukrainian book published by Random House, a major English-language commercial publisher, thanks to its interest in the topic of Chornobyl and its success in Italy.

There are several parallel paths, and success can come from a completely unexpected direction.

Chytomo: Children’s literature has also played a significant role. The success of children’s books has helped promote Ukrainian literature abroad. “Loudly, Softly, in a Whisper” and “I See That” by Romana Romanyshyn and Andriy Lesiv have become very successful on the international market, without any direct link to Ukraine. 

Vitaly Chernetsky: I was happy to translate both books into English. Although there is very little text, it was a great experience. These books are incredible, and I’m happy they are so extensively present on the international market. Librarians recommend them to children. It is interesting that Ukrainian culture penetrates other countries through such books, even if not everyone realizes that these are works by Ukrainian authors. When readers look through the pages and see a bandura among the musical instruments, they may have a moment of realization. In this way, an understanding of Ukrainian culture and its peculiarities is gradually formed.

Chytomo: What do we need to do to preserve and strengthen Ukrainian cultural agency?

Vitaly Chernetsky: Ukraine is going through a tough time, but we have a well-developed civil society and volunteer activity. Ukraine has proved to the world that we are unique in this respect, and there are few countries that can compete with us in terms of civil organization. We finally have institutions like the Ukrainian Institute, the Ukrainian Book Institute, and the Ukrainian Cultural Foundation, and we need to preserve them. The Dovzhenko Center [the state film archive that preserves and popularizes Ukrainian film heritage] needs help.

World support can bring Ukrainian victory and future peace closer. The presence of Ukrainian culture is extremely important, and there should be gestures of aid and help. However, we also need institutions.

Chytomo: Is it possible to reverse the established Slavic Russian-centered approach and change the lens of belittlement toward Ukrainian culture?

Vitaly Chernetsky: We never know when the last straw will fall or when the rock we are all pounding will collapse. I am not only proud of my literary studies and translations, but that my words about epistemic injustice towards Ukraine have been heard. That is, finally, the lack of knowledge and interest in Ukraine was looked at through the prism of epistemic injustice. This is something that I started emphasizing in 2022 and have been talking about incessantly.

The idea is not mine. The discourse of epistemic injustice comes from the 1970s feminist revolution in philosophy. The question of “whose science, whose knowledge,” which was raised 50 years ago, remains important. And it helps us to see that we also have that knowledge, that experience, and that vision we can enrich the rest of the world with.

We need to build coalitions of like-minded people. This networking will always be dynamic because someone is tired of someone, someone has a fight with someone, or something else. But this is normal — it brings new blood and a fresh vision. Sometimes you need to change the interlocutor in order to refresh your own position.

I think this is exactly what Ukraine can offer the world. We can be fresh and powerful collocutors with a unique expertise that European countries fortunately have not had to experience.

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Translation: Iryna Savyuk

Copy editing: Terra Friedman King