Imagine this; you are walking through the beautiful gardens in Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second biggest city, being awed into silence by the green spaces, exquisite landscaping, and carefully manicured hedgerows. Suddenly, you come across a monument which towers sixteen metres high, upon which is positioned a statue of Taras Shevchenko, a Ukrainian artist, writer and poet. Surrounded by sixteen smaller figures all dynamically rendered in dark bronze, he stands resolutely staring into the distance, as if surveying his beloved Ukraine. The effect is imposing; powerful; majestic. Were you to see this monument today, the impression would be entirely changed.
On March 26, 2022 Taras Shevchenko vanished from sight, swaddled in sandbags by Ukrainians to protect him from the ceaseless Russian attacks on the city. Draped in this hastily erected armoury, Shevchenko’s constant watch over Kharkiv was halted for the first time since the monument was built in 1935 and the lack of his presence is striking.
Since the current war in Ukraine began, Kharkiv has been the victim of relentless shelling by the Russians. According to president Volodymyr Zelensky these attacks should classify as war crimes and on Twitter he compared the events to the Holocaust, saying that it was history repeating itself – in particular drawing attention to an explosion which damaged the Babyn Yar ravine (Europe’s largest mass grave from the Holocaust).
The shocking brutality of the Ukrainian war has dominated the news since it began, rife with reports of appalling brutality and violence but underlying it is the incredible endurance of the Ukrainian people, and the fierce pride they possess for their country – a country, which is not just a victim, but also a home. This strong loyalty to homeland and resistant spirit are qualities shared with Shevchenko, which abound in his poetry and continue to shape the country today. It is for this reason that his statue is being so devoutly defended with physical reinforcements as well as the combined effort of the Ukrainian people.
Shevchenko’s biography tells an awe-inspiring tale about a man, born into serfdom in 1814, who bought freedom with his talent only to be exiled for the content of his poems. His childhood knew no reprieve from hardship, as he experienced the harshness of forced labour, lost his mother before the age of nine and his father soon after. He found refuge however in his art.
Shevchenko displayed great artistic skills from being young and eventually his master apprenticed him to a painter in St. Petersburg. From this position, he became acquainted with several prominent artists who bought his release from serfdom in 1838, granting him access to the Royal Academy of Art. The muse of poetry soon overcame Shevchenko however and became his primary love in life. It is his writing that has won him such an important legacy and made his statue worth protecting today, but it was also his downfall.
He returned home triumphantly in 1843, during the peak of his literary renown, strengthening the ties he felt to Ukraine as well as reinforcing his horror for the conditions of serfs. He became associated with a revolutionary secret society known as the ‘Brotherhood of Saints Cyril and Methodius’ dedicated to abolishing serfdom and autocracy (Franko 1924) and in 1847, the members were exposed and arrested, including Shevchenko. What followed was an exile of ten years in which the Tsar forbade him from writing or painting – both rules which Shevchenko broke.
Shevchenko died before he was ever able to return to his beloved homeland, yet he was buried in Ukraine according to the wishes expressed in the poem ‘Testament’, filled with yearning for home.
Shevchenko’s influence today is immense, and he is central to the development of Ukrainian consciousness. He demonstrated the power and beauty of the Ukrainian language, and his statue embodies both qualities. In protecting it, the people of Ukraine are also protecting the literature, heritage and soul of their country. Council worker Ilona Kalashnikova said that, ‘We can rebuild destroyed houses, but not historical monuments’ (France 24) and indeed, the monument to Shevchenko is more than a statue, but a symbol; a symbol of resistance through words not weapons.
In preserving the statue of Shevchenko, the strength of Ukraine persists, and the country’s resistance derives not from violence but from history, literature, and posterity. The sandbags covering the monument have therefore become almost as symbolic as the monument itself; they are a sign of Ukraine’s continued resistance in the face of atrocity. For this reason, the legacy of Shevchenko can fuel the fight for Ukraine, both within its borders and across the globe.