Vasyl Ovsiyenko: On March 21, 2000, in the village of Pechenizhyn, Dmytro Demydіv tells his story.
Dmytro Demydіv: I, Dmytro Illich Demydіv, was born in the village of Pechenizhyn, Stanislav (now Ivano-Frankivsk) Oblast, Kolomyia Raion (at that time it was Pechenizhyn Raion) on November 3, 1948.
My parents were simple peasants. My father, Ilko Mykhailovych Demydіv, born in 1910, passed away in 1963 when I was fourteen. My mother, Olena Oleksiivna Demydіv, née Dedeliuk, was born in 1910 and died in 1970. I was the only son of my parents.
My parents did not participate in the liberation movement, but my uncle, my father's brother, was a partisan and served in the security service. In 1946, he was treacherously murdered in the village of Malyi Kliuchiv, not far from Pechenizhyn.
I started school, as usual, in 1955. I was a good student, with some aptitude for mathematics, physics, and especially the natural sciences. Immediately after school, in 1966, I enrolled in the Lviv Polytechnic Institute. I graduated in 1971, after my mother's death. I was left an orphan. I was assigned to a job in the North Caucasus, in the city of Georgiyevsk, Stavropol Krai. Gorbachev was just beginning his career there at that time. He was the “Chairman of the Georgiyevsk City Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.” I couldn’t work there. I worked there for three months, paid back my relocation allowance, and in October 1971, I returned. I couldn’t stand the drinking, the dormitory... No. My homeland was calling me; I couldn’t work in that environment. In November, I started working at the Kolomyia Building Materials Plant Administration. I worked there until my arrest in 1973—almost a year and a half.
There was still an echo of the 1960s. There was still some relative freedom of speech, as if the lid had been lifted, and you could communicate with people without being too secretive about your views. And at work, I didn't hide that I was nationally conscious. I had conversations with many people about Ukraine, about its fate. But when we created the organization, I fell silent, because we had to maintain secrecy and not draw attention to ourselves. There were disputes on national grounds, conversations. That was the time of the revival of Ukrainian song, Ukrainian pop music; Volodymyr Ivasyuk—it was so helpful, so captivating, so uplifting!
At that time, Ivan Dziuba's* article (Information on individuals mentioned in the interview and other realities is provided at the end in alphabetical order.—Ed.) *“Internationalism or Russification?”* was making a lot of noise. What a title! From the title alone, you could understand that under the guise of internationalism, a policy of Russification was being pursued, brazenly and stubbornly destroying everything Ukrainian, especially the language as the foundation of Ukrainian national identity. Also, Oles Honchar’s novel *“The Cathedral”* and the discussions around it. Of course, we only had the anti-“Cathedral” criticism from the official press, but that rage and abuse were perceived in the opposite way. So, official propaganda produced the opposite result. People knew how to read and understand the Soviet press! Not just the intelligentsia, but ordinary people too. Although for most, the Soviet press was the main source of information. Plus, Western radio. Samvydav did not reach us.
And then suddenly, they start arresting dissidents. It began with that tourist who came just before the New Year of 1972, what was his name...
V.O. That was Yaroslav Dobosh*, a member of SUM (Ukrainian Youth Association) from Denmark.
D.D. Dobosh. By the way, what happened to him? I heard he was released?
V.O. They held him for a few months, he made a penitent appearance on television with his eyes downcast. Sometime in June 1972, he was released, and then abroad, he denied it, saying he had been treated with something and didn't know what he was saying.
D.D. Wherever he went, whomever he met, they began to arrest those people. This infuriated us. As soon as any signs of revival appeared, they began to stamp them out, to cut them down—how much more could we take!
V.O. And how did you find out about this?
D.D. From Radio Liberty. People were talking about it; people were interested in it then—they aren't so interested now. Back then, ordinary people were interested; that was the environment we had. People have changed a lot since then. And at that time, information was passed by word of mouth. For example, I heard about the Kyiv arrests from someone I didn't even know. Just at a bus stop, people were saying that a lot of people had been arrested in Kyiv, including Ivan Svitlychnyi*, Yevhen Sverstiuk*, Vasyl Stus*, and also in Lviv, Viacheslav Chornovil*, Iryna and Ihor Kalynets*, and others.
I had a circle of trusted friends. These were childhood friends, the kind you could talk to openly, knowing they wouldn't betray you or tell anyone—this was the core of our group, which was later arrested and repressed: Dmytro Hrynkiv, Roman Chuprei, Vasyl Shovkovyi, Mykola Motriuk, and also Ivan Chuprei—Roman Chuprei’s cousin. One day, on January 31, 1972, we gathered at Shovkovyi’s house and, so to speak, officially declared the creation of our organization, the “Union of Liberation,” the “Union of Ukrainian Youth.”
V.O. Were those the initial name options? Was there a version called “Free Communists”?
D.D. That was my suggestion.
V.O. And how did the creation of the organization happen?
D.D. Hrynkiv told me, calling me at work, to come to Shovkovyi’s place on the evening of the 31st. It was a Monday. On the way, I met a friend and brought him to this gathering, Vasyl Volodymyrovych Mykhailyuk. He would later play a certain role in our group. He is no longer alive now; he was murdered on December 11, 1999.
V.O. Dmytro told me about this and asked me to inquire about the circumstances of his death.
D.D. So, I came to Shovkovyi’s with Mykhailyuk. It was evening, right after work. I had no one at home, I was still unmarried, all alone, so I could go wherever I wanted, like a cat. I took Mykhailyuk with me and went to Shovkovyi’s. This was our first gathering. Roman Chuprei was there, and of course, Dmytro Dmytrovych Hrynkiv, as it was his initiative; he was our generator and locomotive. Vasyl Vasylyovych Shovkovyi was there too, but on his passport, he is Ivan Vasylyovych Shovkovyi. I didn't even know his name was Ivan. When he was arrested, they said some Ivan Shovkovyi was in custody. Also at the meeting were Mykola Mykolayovych Motriuk, Fedir Vasylyovych Mykytyuk, and this Mykhailyuk. Hrynkiv asked me who he was. I said he was a decent guy, we could trust him.
We took an oath, swore allegiance to Ukraine and our organization—that’s how our gathering began. Then there were more gatherings. I don't remember the dates when they happened. At the first gathering, tasks were assigned, who should do what, what we could do, and what we couldn't: maintain secrecy, not tell anyone, and not recruit new members without the consent of the core group. At this meeting, the leadership was decided: Dmytro Hrynkiv was elected chairman, I was his deputy, and Shovkovyi was the deputy for security. Roman Vasylyovych Chuprei was then a student at the Lviv Polytechnic Institute, so he was also tasked with recruiting students for the Union. He found one person there. I don't know what became of him now, as he wasn't even at the trial. They say he is no longer alive. When the trial took place, he left and they couldn't find him. When Roman was arrested, he fled. Chuprei should tell you about him. He was the eleventh member of our group. I never saw him. (This was Bohdan Romanyshyn.—Ed.)
V.O. And was there a program developed?
D.D. The program had not yet been developed. That was my task—to develop a program, but what was there to develop? Programs had been developed long before us. So it wasn’t even necessary. The resistance movement never really stopped for us. In Western Ukraine, group after group emerged. We were doing what others had done. Until we stabilized and organized ourselves on a solid foundation, we would use the existing plans, adapting to the circumstances.
Generally speaking, I had a program. I was thinking through the main principles and provisions of the program, but I was in no hurry to put them on paper. Firstly, the final version had not yet matured. I had many ideas, because I was thinking about it day and night. To put it in modern terms, I had launched my computer. For example, to infiltrate the Party, into state structures. To make a “career,” so to speak, in government bodies, in Party structures, to bring our own people in, not necessarily members of our group, but like-minded people. This was an unlimited field of activity, because if we had our own people in the Party-state bodies, imagine what that would have meant under the current conditions, after Ukraine gained independence. But I understood well that this was work for the long term. Under the conditions of that time, it was unlikely that we could expect to live to see such times. We were young, hot-headed—not the right character, not the right psychophysics, not the right temperament! There were many other ideas: publishing a journal, leaflets, and other such things. We had capable guys with considerable literary talent: Hrynkiv, Motriuk. But the main thing was: how to avoid being exposed? As it is now known, the UNF-2 existed for 18 years! A different fate was destined for us. What does it matter now!
Meanwhile, our task was to obtain literature, equipment, radios to listen to foreign radio stations, and, if possible, anti-jamming devices, because the jamming was very strong back then. Shovkovyi was assigned this; he was our radio technician. And, if possible, to obtain weapons, just in case.
Since childhood, I knew where to get a weapon. Once, I mentioned it... Although I was against us taking that weapon, because it belonged to my friend, whom I couldn't recruit into the organization. I won't name him. I was “working on” him, and when I hinted... He understands everything, he is nationally conscious and perhaps knows much more than I do, but when I told him that something needed to be done, that we needed to fight, to create an organization (I didn't tell him the organization already existed)—then he said, “Are you crazy? They execute people for that, they give 25 years for that (though they weren't giving 25 years anymore, but how would he know?), psychiatric hospitals... Are you out of your mind, Dmytro? You can think about it, but to organize—God forbid!” So he didn't join our organization, that man.
We took a hunting rifle from a hiding place in August 1972. Later, in our case, these weapons constantly caused us trouble. Dmytro Hrynkiv got a small-caliber rifle from somewhere and some construction pistols. Well, he will tell you more about that himself. That was our arsenal. Later, it hurt us a lot. If we hadn't had weapons, they wouldn't have been able to pin extremism on us in the case. It would have just been Article 62, “anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda.” We tried to conduct only oral agitation, not to make leaflets for tactical reasons, because that’s a document. A spoken word isn’t recorded anywhere; it’s just testimony: one person said this, another said that, maybe someone was misunderstood, something was confused. The main focus was on oral conversation, oral propaganda, and talking to those with whom it was possible. If we previously allowed ourselves to talk even with opponents of Ukraine, to argue with them, now that was no longer permissible, as it could lead to exposure. To talk only with people who are interested and concerned about this. If possible, to recruit new members, create combat cells of five, while maintaining secrecy so they wouldn’t know each other, only through a network of contacts. But we didn’t develop this work, because our first core group didn’t have time to recruit new people. Because of our swift downfall. We recruited one unvetted man into our group, who later betrayed us.
V.O. Dmytro Hrynkiv named that man.
D.D. Taras Stadnychenko. He even pretended to be a national patriot, but immediately ran to the KGB. This was evident from the investigation materials. From the moment Stadnychenko appeared in the group, the GB knew what was happening. They used his denunciations (though they were not shown to us). We didn't keep a chronicle, but they recorded every event, every word he brought them. They knew better than we did what we were doing and when.
Ever since the informer appeared in our organization, we felt some obstacles: the GB gave instructions to the informer, and he influenced us, pushing us toward active measures. He was such a daredevil, such an activist! The GB wanted to provoke us through their agent to carry out some action: hang flags, issue leaflets, or something of that sort, to catch us red-handed in the act. Since they controlled the situation, this was the best option for them. For us, it would have been such a blow that we would have been completely stunned. It would have been a catastrophe for us. But they failed in this: we managed to detect the hand of the GB. So they were forced to arrest us according to a different scenario than they had planned.
This is very clear in my case. I had just gotten married then, in June 1972, and for, let’s say, domestic reasons, I wasn’t as actively involved in the organization's work, but I sometimes met with the guys to discuss matters and offer advice. This Stadnychenko barely knew me. We met somewhere in the summer; Hrynkiv introduced me to him, but he knew little about me, perhaps only from what others said. Therefore, the GB had no materials on me, only that I was Hrynkiv's deputy and nothing more. And that I had said where the rifle we took was—all this was from the words of others. Later, the investigation worked on me myself, and I, in fact, provided the materials on myself. I later analyzed the course of the investigation. They gave me a choice: either talk about myself or about the guys who were already in custody. And there were four of them. I was arrested on April 13, 1973.
V.O. Under what circumstances were you arrested?
D.D. I was arrested like this. Before that, they intensively summoned me to Frankivsk every day at nine o'clock. It was easier to travel then. By nine o'clock, I was already at the GB, giving testimony as a witness. Mostly about myself, and this testimony became the main material in my case. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday... On Thursday, I wasn't anywhere; I went to work.
After the interrogations, they would let me go into town for lunch. And one time (it was the last day of interrogations)—I was sitting in front of the post office, and suddenly, on a clear April day, it went dark for me: my vision completely failed for a few minutes. Such was the tension. I was sitting there on a bench when Fedir Mykytyuk approached. We started talking. He's a cheerful and carefree man. He said that he was also being dragged in and still is: “Don't worry, it'll blow over somehow, don't take it to heart, no one will think badly of you.” Something like that. So he got me talking a bit. After this conversation, I went to the GB. I returned home.
On Friday, April 13, I went to work. A call comes from the GB, saying something else needs to be clarified, the testimony needs to be finalized, there's something else, an investigator will come. I arrived at the Kolomyia GB and sat there. They gave me magazines to read, told me to wait, that the investigator wasn't there yet, but would be soon. A certain Honcharenko was talking to me. There was such a man, now deceased. He asked how my wife was, because my eldest son, Dmytro, had just been born. On March 15, the very day Hrynkiv, Shovkovyi, and Motriuk were arrested. I was still free, and the situation was so tense: the guys were arrested, and I was free... They spread a rumor and reported here that everyone had already been arrested, and no one else would be. I thought: what are the guys thinking about me? When I was talking, I understood that I was incriminating myself, that I could be arrested for it...
So, I waited until the investigator arrived, that Ivan Dmytrovych Rudyi. Rudyi arrived, and they finally “tied me up,” that is, arrested me, right there at the Kolomyia GB. They brought in witnesses—some people they grabbed off the street, a frightened man and woman. The GB had snatched them. They weren't told why, but when it was announced that I was the one to be arrested, not them, smiles bloomed on their faces, and they began to chat lively. I thought, you bastards, people—anything, as long as it's not me... Rudyi announced that they would be present during the detention to ensure there were no violations of the law. I've already forgotten the procedure, how it was. Well, in short, from that moment on, I was under arrest.
V.O. Did they present any charges?
D.D. I only asked them to let my wife know, so she wouldn’t worry that I had disappeared, that I had been killed or something. That I am in safe hands. And the baby wasn't even a month old. Well, I'm in safe hands—there with the guys. And so a weight was lifted from my shoulders, the moral torments were gone. Everything was fine. They arrested me. They took me to Frankivsk. They held me for three days in a KPZ (temporary detention cell). They even threw some informer in with me. I saw through him right away. He started jabbering at me, talking, but I didn't let on that I had figured him out. He stuck around me, pretending to be political too. A fifteen-dayer. I asked: “Why aren't you shaven?” “Oh,” he says, “I'm a political.” He said something about getting 15 days for that. I didn't say anything to him. Well, I told him who I was and what was what.
They transferred me to the prison, and for almost a month, they didn't take me for interrogations. Then they started taking me, to confirm this or that. At one point, I wanted to retract the testimony I had given, but that didn't work. They led me around a little more.
I managed to talk to my guys. The prison there isn't a GB prison like the one you were in in Kyiv. In Frankivsk, the GB didn't have its own prison. We were scattered among the criminal prisoners. So, through these criminals, we had more or less some contact. How are you feeling, how's your health—things like that. You can't say how you're holding up under investigation, how you're feeling. Sometimes I'd see someone through the peephole during the walk, so how could I not shout, “Hello!”? There wasn't such strict isolation there.
V.O. And in your cell during the investigation, were you alone or with other people?
D.D. I was alone. It was best for me to be alone for a while. They say it's very hard to be alone. It's hard for a terrorist, who has nothing but a black void in his soul. Then, for sure, a terrible person can't be with another terrible person. That is, alone with himself. That's the worst for him. But for me, it was nothing; I could have been alone for my whole sentence. There were times when conflicts arose in the cell. To see the same ugly face all the time... And physically, I couldn't really put up a fight... There were times I had to submit, and there were also scuffles.
My investigator was Ivan Dmytrovych Rudyi. He was mine, Shovkovyi's, and Hrynkiv's. The chief investigator. There were also two other investigators: Sanko and Andrusiv.
V.O. Did they use any violence against you during the investigation?
D.D. No, they did not. Only psychological pressure.
V.O. Did they threaten you with the psychiatric hospital? Almost all political prisoners were sent for psychiatric evaluation.
D.D. No, they didn't threaten me with the psychiatric hospital. It's even strange that they didn't take us for a psychiatric evaluation. They didn't even mention it. Later, in the camp, Semen Gluzman* was surprised that we hadn't had a psychiatric evaluation.
I recall an episode when the investigator, together with the prosecutor, was acquainting me with the charges. That I, so-and-so, was accused under Articles 56, points ‘a’ and ‘b,’ and Article 64 of the Criminal Code of the Ukrainian SSR. Point ‘a’ was “encroachment on territorial integrity,” and point ‘b’ was “conspiracy to seize power.” That I was facing from 15 years of imprisonment plus 5 years of exile, or execution and confiscation of property.
I replied that I categorically disagreed with such charges. Because, first of all, there was not a single word about any seizure of power at any of our gatherings. Secondly, according to the Constitution of the Ukrainian SSR, Ukraine has the right to self-determination up to and including secession. The prosecutor objected that secession is an encroachment on territorial integrity. I drew the conclusion: “So the Constitution is just a scrap of paper, a trap for the naive?” Neither of them gave me a concrete answer, but it infuriated them.
Then we were tried, from August 3 to 9, 1973. The trial was closed, no one was allowed in, only relatives for the reading of the verdict.
V.O. Do you remember the names of your judges?
D.D. The judge was Vasylenko, a woman. The prosecutor... some Russian name... Yegorov. My lawyer was Pospolitak.
The cassation court upheld the verdict. The responses were standard: “Convicted correctly, the appeal is unfounded.” After the trial, they prepared us for the transport. They took us on the transport, I think, on October 17 or 19. We arrived in Perm on November 3—I remember it well because it's my birthday. They held us in Perm, and somewhere in the second half of November, they brought us to Camp 35. VS-389/35, Vsekhsvyatskaya station, settlement Tsentralnyi. I was there for two years. During the 26th Congress of the CPSU, in February 1976—right during that congress, they transferred me to Camp 36, in Kuchino. About two months before that, they had brought Mykola Motriuk to our Camp 35, and then they transferred me to Camp 36. I served out the rest of my 5 years there.
What did we do in the camp? 1974 was particularly active, turbulent. Hunger strikes after hunger strikes, petitions after petitions. There was a protest action in Camp 35; we renounced our Soviet citizenship. We defended our rights—we protested against the cruel treatment in the punishment cell. Then there was a big hunger strike for Ihor Kalynets*. His relatives came for a visit, but he was denied it; they didn't let them see Ihor. So we held a mass hunger strike then. I went on a hunger strike for 10 days, and Kalynets, Gluzman*... No, not Gluzman—Leontovych. Four men declared an indefinite hunger strike.
V.O. And who were they? It would be good to name them.
D.D. Kalynets. Balakhonov. And, I think, Svitlychnyi* ... I don't recall. They were later force-fed.
V.O. Tell me, with whom were you in closer contact in Camp 35?
D.D. Volodymyr Bukovsky was there for a short time. Ivan Svitlychnyi* was there. There was a large group of Jews. They were wonderful people: Yosyp Mishener, Anatoliy Altman, Hillel Izrailevich Butman (a former police captain), Lev Yagman. Among the Jews, there was Haryk Superfin—a wonderful person. We were very close with the Jews.
V.O. Allies.
D.D. Yes, they were our best allies. There were a few Armenians. Among the older Ukrainians were Vasyl Pidhorodetskyi*, Dmytro Basarab*, Volodymyr Hnatiuk (Vasyl Hnatiuk was in Camp 36), and Taras Melnychuk*—the poet. They brought him to Camp 35 later. He blossomed there. He was taken under the wing of Svitlychnyi and Kalynets. They managed to pass some of Melnychuk's poems from there; those poems got out from behind the bars. The collection *Z-za grat* (*From Behind Bars*).
V.O. It was good company. No worse than on the outside?
D.D. I missed that company and still miss it. In Camp 36, there was Oles Serhiyenko*.
V.O. The conditions in Camp 36 were probably much worse?
D.D. Yes, a little worse. Not significantly, it was about the same, just a little worse. In general, during the period we were there, only 1974 was very hard, but the other years were... Later, after 1979, when we were released, they said they started tightening things in the camps. We had constant searches, shakedowns, but we managed to hide things so well that they could find almost nothing. Gluzman had a special talent for such clandestine work; he was very good at it.
V.O. Are you talking about the texts that were prepared to be sent to the outside world?
D.D. Yes, the texts. And storing the paper itself. We wrote on capacitor paper. So a sheet of paper from a school notebook could be rolled into a ball the size of a pea. They wrote in such tiny script. The guys had beautiful handwriting and had these Parker-type ballpoint pens. Parker brand. The ballpoint was so thin. You could draw a very thin line with it. You couldn't write like that with a regular pen. I didn't write because I couldn't do it. I stood guard. As for how it was smuggled out—I know one way, but who passed it... I even tried not to know. And I trained my memory so that I remember what was said, when it was said, how it was said, but who said it—as they say, it's blocked, I don't remember. That's how I trained my memory. Even if I wanted to say—I couldn't slip up. That's why I'm not naming names.
Oles Serhiyenko* was there. Myroslav Symchych* was also with us. There was also such a good man, he was released shortly after we arrived in the camp—Vasyl Pirus*.
V.O. Mykhailo Horyn* spoke fondly of him.
D.D. Oh, he was a wonderful person. I only knew him for a month, because he was released in December. He went somewhere to Chelyabinsk. He wrote a letter to someone, but then they blocked correspondence; it was impossible to write to the camp from any of the former prisoners.
I want to name a few names that don't appear anywhere. It's always the same ones. Stepan Mamchur*—a twenty-five-year prisoner. He was arrested in 1958. He was imprisoned in Mordovia with Josyf Slipyj* and was on friendly terms with him. It was said that Josyf Slipyj secretly ordained Mamchur as a priest. And indeed, it was as if waves of kindness, peace, and some spiritual tranquility emanated from this man. I don't know the year or date of his birth. He looked to be around 60. He suffered from hypertension, from which he died—a cerebral hemorrhage. He died suddenly in the arms of his friends in the camp. They didn't have time to get him to the infirmary. This happened after my transport to Camp 36, sometime in late 1976 or early 1977. Ivan Svitlychnyi dedicated a cycle of poems to him. Mr. Stepan taught me the basic principles of the Christian faith, the main prayers. Before that, I only knew the “Our Father” and the “Hail Mary,” which my mother had taught me in childhood. I have a memento from the late Mr. Stepan—he gave me a small cross to wear.
Vasyl Malozhenskyi. An older man, he was somewhere in his 60s. His sentence was 15 years. He was imprisoned in the late 1960s. He was a *stanychnyi*—something like a quartermaster-supplier, and also a scout. A pure underground fighter, he lived illegally. Then he had to go into hiding, and the GB didn't catch him. In the late 60s, he came out of the underground. He thought he wouldn't be imprisoned, as much time had passed, and he hadn't taken part in combat operations or other actions. But they rounded him up anyway. They had to show that the GB wasn't wasting its resources. In our camp, he hid all the information before it was sent to the outside world, as well as the supplies of paper. In all that time, he never once got caught, not even for little things. His experience from the underground came in handy. A true professional. An outsider would never have thought that all the camp's information passed through the hands of this old and not entirely healthy-looking man. If only we had had such a consultant when we were creating our “Union”! It would not have been so easy for the GB to expose us then.
Mykhailo Klymovych Slobodyan, born in November 1937 in the village of Trach, Kosiv Raion, in our oblast. Around 1971, he and his friends created an organization called the “Ukrainian National-Liberation Union ‘Homin.’” In 1972, they hung up flags in the village of Debeslavtsi in the Kolomyia Raion, and then again in 1974 in the city of Kosiv. He was arrested in 1975. He was the only one imprisoned, but they slapped him with 11 years in the camps and 5 years of exile. They charged him under a whole slew of articles, with the sentences partially combined, which resulted in 11 years. There were also ten men in their organization. Someone betrayed them and reported to the KGB. The traitor has not been identified to this day. Before his arrest, Mykhailo Slobodyan had worked as a local police officer, and at the time of his arrest, he was a club manager. An outsider was imprisoned for the flags in Debeslavtsi—some tractor driver named Tkach. He was terribly demoralized and depressed that his own government had imprisoned him for nothing and could not find the real culprit. He died of grief during his second year of punishment before finishing his sentence. Slobodyan, for his part, suffered from a stomach ulcer and underwent a serious operation in 1977 for gastric bleeding. He barely survived. He was released in 1986 after completing his term. We met occasionally, the last time in 1996. M. Slobodyan’s organization was the last of its kind. After him, no similar groups emerged: the resistance movement took on the character of a human rights movement.
The makeup of the prisoners in the camp was as follows: political anti-Soviets, soldiers who had crossed the border, and those who had unsuccessfully attempted to flee abroad. Our partisans, who were serving out those huge sentences of 25 years or more. Before every holiday, they tried to catch some unfortunate people who had collaborated with the Germans during the war, whether there was anything to it or not. There were Vlasovites. But this contingent was demoralized. As informers, they couldn't report anything because we wouldn't let them into our circle if they were sent in. As Shovkovyi later told me, the conspiracy in the camp was built in circles. At the center was a circle of the especially trusted, and no one could get in there.
V.O. And on the periphery, you can't learn much.
D.D. I was released in April 1978. It's true that they didn't release active prisoners like us from the camp but took us home by escorted transport, so we wouldn't head to Moscow or other centers along the way.
V.O. So that you wouldn't give interviews to foreign correspondents. And how were you released?
D.D. They took me about a month before the end of my term, in March. They took me along the same route, though we didn't go back to Sverdlovsk: Perm, Kazan, Kharkiv, Lviv, Frankivsk. In Frankivsk, they handed me over to my wife under arrest. They called my wife for the release. She already knew. And the guys had been released earlier, so she already knew how it would be. We came home together. And they immediately put me under surveillance. I was not to leave the village. And if you went somewhere, you needed permission. And I had to be at home from ten at night until six in the morning. Not to visit public places. And to travel to the militia every Saturday to sign in.
V.O. Did they immediately put you on administrative surveillance for a year? They didn't extend it?
D.D. They gave it for a year right away and didn't extend it. They extended Shovkovyi's for 3 years.
V.O. Did you manage to find a job right away? Were there any difficulties?
D.D. Yes, I couldn't find a job as an engineer. In July, I went to work as a metalworker at a furniture factory in Pechenizhyn. I rested for three months and then went to work.
V.O. Were there any dealings with the KGB, any persecution, or oppression?
D.D. There were recruitment attempts, for which they promised a job. They even gave me a job, but they started to mess with my mind so much that I spat on it and went back to being a worker. In the camp, I had learned to be a turner, so here I was a lathe operator too. It’s a job where you can make something for yourself and also communicate with people because one person needs this, another needs that. So it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t push it too much because, first of all, working as an engineer means having your own circle of people. And I had already lost all my old connections; people looked at me like I was a strange bird.
V.O. It’s interesting how people in your circle perceived those who returned from imprisonment.
D.D. We had no problems with people around us treating us negatively.
V.O. The traditions of resistance were still fresh here, so former political prisoners were perceived normally.
V.O. And who is this that just arrived, is it your son Dmytro?
D.D. No, that's not Dmytro. This is Petro, the youngest.
V.O. My name is Vasyl Ovsienko. And could you please state your date of birth?
Petro Demydiv: February 21, 1983.
V.O. And your daughter?
D.D. Oksana, born May 30, 1979. So when the economic crisis began, I had foreseen it all and went to a firm that I thought was more or less stable, one that would hold on until the very end—the road administration department. I made the right choice. It’s still working now, but there's a shortage of jobs. They couldn't catch me drinking... I'm not saying I never had a drink; I'm not a teetotaler, but I never lost control of myself. I came to work on time; a car would bring me. And they fired me—supposedly because of reorganization, the liquidation of the enterprise. Well, a layoff is a layoff, but how? I was the only lathe operator—how can you lay me off? It’s a necessary position. A while later, I come to get my final pay (they told me to come when they had the money)—and there’s already a new lathe operator! They had hired another one—the boss hired his crony... They laid me off, but you don't lay off a person, you eliminate a staff position. But I didn’t fight for anything, because in such an atmosphere...
V.O. Mrs. Mariia, was your husband’s arrest in 1973 unexpected for you?
Mariia Demydiv: It was like a bolt from the blue; it’s simply impossible to convey. I was still so young, 19 years old. Not even 19, two months shy. I was born on June 29, 1954, from Pechenizhyn. My husband and I had lived together for 10 months and 10 days. I was left with a child... When the KGB first took him on March 14 and didn't let him come home, my contractions started at night, and I went to give birth. I gave birth to my child without my husband. He came to me in the maternity hospital and said, “I was at the KGB.” And I didn’t even know what the KGB was. If he had said he was at the police station, I would have been scared, but the KGB—that’s the KGB, they probably called him for a work-related trip. Then my friends came to me and said, “You know, something terrible has happened, they've arrested our boys.” Then Dmytro came up to me, and I asked, “What happened?” And he said, “Yes, I was in the same group with them.”
I was in the maternity hospital for 4 days—and then went home. I wanted to know: For what? Why? For four weeks it was like this: to the investigation—from the investigation. He’d come home and then back to the investigation. Then on April 13, he went to work and never came back. So I was left with this small child. Back then, they only paid maternity benefits for two months after childbirth, and that was it. We lived with my mother; she received a pension of 12 rubles. And we had to live on that with a baby for a whole month! They paid 9 rubles for the child’s milk because my own milk dried up from all the stress, leaving us with 3 rubles for the month for everything else. That's how we lived.
I traveled for visits. The investigation lasted five months—April, May, June, July, August—so I went to Frankivsk, bringing parcels. I really wanted to see him, but it was impossible to see him before the trial.
V.O. And did they give you a visit right after the trial?
M.Demydiv: It’s just terrifying for me to remember. I know more now about what life is, what's what, but back then I was still a child, you could say, 19 years old. I went to Frankivsk, bringing parcels, begging, crying: please take this parcel, please take it... When the trial was happening—they didn't inform me when the trial was. The Shovkovyis somehow found out, I don’t know who told them. We went to the courthouse. We went inside. They said, “The trial will be in this hall.” We waited because we really wanted to see them. Eight-thirty came—and they kicked us out of the courtroom and onto the street. I’m standing at the very edge by the door and I look through the window, through the glass, and they are leading them through the back entrance, like terrible criminals... It’s just terrifying to think about! They were all so miserable, so young. In those five or six months (because some were under investigation for 5 months, and some for 6), they had become so thin, just bones, you could see their jawbones. We tried to get to the doors, but the soldiers didn't let us, so we couldn't even look through the crack in the door. Each of us wanted to see her son, her husband, but they didn’t give us a visit, nothing. While the trial was going on, we only saw them when they were being led into and out of the hall—that’s when we could see them, for, well, a minute. And after the trial, they gave a visit; I went with my baby.
V.O. That visit was probably across a table?
M.Demydiv: Across a table, yes.
V.O. For an hour or two?
M.Demydiv: What do you mean, an hour? Maybe 15 minutes, maybe half an hour. It was a very short visit.
V.O. And did you later travel to the Urals?
M.Demydiv: I went to the Urals every year for a visit. I would leave my child with my mother.
V.O. What an expense—to get there! That’s two or three thousand kilometers.
M.Demydiv: There was everything. I gave birth, then went to work. I earned 60 rubles—for the household, for the child, and I still saved every month because I had to go for the visit. You could send a parcel once a year...
V.O. And that only after half the term, up to 5 kilograms.
D.D. The first year was especially hard—it was terrible.
M.Demydiv: I'm telling you, it was terrible—like a bolt from the blue. And no one, not even the neighbors, asked about anything. It was as if he was already in the next world. I was left without firewood. There was wood by the house, but it needed to be chopped, to be split. I had never chopped wood myself—at home my father did it, and when I got married, my husband did it. I couldn't even hold an axe properly—I just kept hacking away at it, struggling. And the neighbor would watch from behind the fence—and say nothing. I’d be hacking away, but how much can I hack—just enough to start a fire, and that’s all. The trial ended, I took the axe and went back to hacking. I see the neighbor approaching: “Oh, Mariika, forgive me! I didn't come to help you because I was afraid they would pin on me what they did to Dmytro. And that’s why I didn't come to help you. But now I will chop this wood for you.” He’s dead now. May God grant him the Kingdom of Heaven for helping me. But people were so scared; they wanted to help but were afraid... They were afraid of that communist plague—because I can't say anything else about them. It's bitter and frustrating for me now because I'm left without a job, I haven't worked long enough for a pension, they didn’t give me my last paycheck from work because there's no money. It's very frustrating, but when I think about those communists, how they took the most precious thing from me back then—my youth, it went to waste... We had just gotten married—and they took him for 5 years. I cried that whole first year, and after that I thought of nothing but going for a visit, how to wait until my little child wouldn't say, “Mommy, I want a dad!” I’d tell him, “You have a dad.” “No, other children have one, but I don't.” I'd say, “You do.” And I'd point to a portrait, a photograph. He’d say, “I want a real daddy!” That’s how it was.
So five years passed. They would summon me to the KGB... I was young, I had nothing from anywhere.
D.D. But after that, there was help, parcels started to arrive a little.
M.Demydiv: It became easier for me after I went to visit Dmytro. He gave me an address in Moscow to go to a certain woman. I went to her. If she's alive, may God grant her health, and if she's passed away, then the Kingdom of Heaven...
V.O. What was her last name?
M.Demydiv: Flora Pavlovna Yasynovska. At first, I went to Tatyana Maksimovna Litvinova; she introduced me to her brother's wife, this Yasynovska. “Because,” she said, “I'm leaving for London and probably won't be here. But for as long as you travel for visits, Masha, go to Yasynovska.” They supported me a great deal. I would bring back clothes for the child, she tried to give me toys, she even sent a parcel with toys, children's clothes. They helped me so very, very much. Every year when I went for a visit, I would go there. I fell ill during the first year, and she took me to the Institute of Cardiology.
V.O. You know, the regime there in Moscow was a bit lighter than here in Ukraine.
M.Demydiv: Our Ukrainians were terribly frightened by that communist terror.
V.O. Who was left here? Everyone who was more or less active was imprisoned, and what remained were the wives of political prisoners, who themselves suffered terribly. And still, they organized help; there was some of our own, besides the Solzhenitsyn Fund.
M.Demydiv: From that Solzhenitsyn Fund, Pavlenkova would send me sometimes 100, sometimes 70 rubles a quarter—depending on the quarter. That was all the help there was. And that's how we got by. I tried to make sure I had money to go for a visit, because the Urals are not a short trip. I had to go, to ask for time off from work.
V.O. Where did you work?
M.Demydiv: I asked for a job at the Kolomyia timber factory. I took on the hardest labor, the grimiest, just to get a job, so there would be at least something—to be supplied with firewood, because where else was I going to get wood? It was terrible. It felt like it would never end. And then it became a little easier for me.
And what was it like at work? I’d come to work, and they’d tell me, “Listen, the secretary of the party organization, Demyanyuk, came by and was asking what your salary is, how much you earn.” I ask the girls why—they don't know. I come for the second shift, he calls me into his office and says, “What is your salary? Are you satisfied?” I say, “I'm satisfied. What, is someone going to give me more?” “You receive parcels.” “What parcels? It’s help once a year.” “No, you shouldn’t take them. You must refuse this help because you are provided for. What, do you have nothing to wear or nothing to eat?” “I have things to eat, but this help doesn’t hurt me. It helps me. Because these 60 rubles are enough for milk and such, but for me to be able to afford shoes for both the child and myself—it comes in very handy. I can't refuse it.” “You're not a Soviet person.” “I haven't been a Soviet person for a long time. Ever since they imprisoned my husband, I haven’t been a Soviet person.”
And that was it, he never called me in again, but at work they treated me with a certain reserve. The boss never said anything to me, only that secretary of the party organization.
And now that we have an independent Ukraine, he's a great nationalist! When I see him wearing a blue and yellow pin, I feel like I could just rip that pin off him myself!
V.O. The same party secretary?
Mariia Demydiv: The very same party secretary, Demyanyuk—he’s become a great nationalist.
Dmytro Demydiv: Or maybe he was one in his soul? They made him do it, Mariia, they forced him to have that conversation with you!
Information on persons mentioned in D. Demydiv’s interview
Basarab, Dmytro, insurgent, arrested in 1952, sentenced to 25 years, served his sentence, in particular, in the Perm camps.
Horyn, Mykhailo, b. June 17, 1930. One of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on Aug. 26, 1965, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 6 years; for a second time on Nov. 3, 1981, under Art. 62, p. 2 for 10 years and 5 years of exile, released on July 2, 1987. Member of the UHG, UHS, People’s Deputy of Ukraine of the 1st convocation, chairman of the URP in 1992-95, currently chairman of the Ukrainian World Coordination Council.
Hrynkiv, Dmytro Dmytrovych, leader of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia” (1972). B. June 11, 1949, in the village of Markivka, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Arr. March 15, 1973, in Kolomyia. Charged under Art. 62, p. 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”), 64 (“participation in an anti-Soviet organization”), 81 (“theft of state property”), 140 (“theft”), 223 (“theft of weapons and ammunition”) of the CC of the UkrSSR, he was sentenced to 7 years in strict-regime camps and 3 years of exile. He served his sentence in camp VS-389/36 in the village of Kuchino, Perm Oblast. Released in 1978. A writer. Lives in Kolomyia.
Gluzman, Semen, b. Sept. 30, 1946, imprisoned on May 11, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1, for 7 years of imprisonment and 3 years of exile. Currently the President of the Psychiatric Association of Ukraine.
Dziuba, Ivan – b. July 26, 1931, one of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Author of the book “Internationalism or Russification?” (1965). Arrested on April 18, 1972, sentenced under Art. 62 of the CC of the UkrSSR to 5 years in camps and 5 years of exile. In October 1973, he appealed to the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the UkrSSR with a request for a pardon. Released on Nov. 6, 1973. A literary critic, academician of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine, Minister of Culture of Ukraine in 1994-94, winner of the T. Shevchenko Prize in 1991, Hero of Ukraine.
Dobosh, Yaroslav. Member of the Union of Ukrainian Youth of Belgium. Came to Ukraine as a tourist just before the New Year of 1972. His arrest on Jan. 4, 1972, as an “emissary of foreign nationalist centers” marked the beginning of another wave of repression against the Ukrainian intelligentsia. Released on June 2, 1972, and expelled.
Kalynets, Ihor, b. July 9, 1939, imprisoned on Aug. 11, 1972, under Art. 62, p.1 for 6 years and 3 years of exile. A poet, winner of the Shevchenko Prize in 1991.
Kalynets, Iryna, b. Dec. 6, 1940, imprisoned on Jan. 12, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 6 years and 3 years of exile. A poet, People’s Deputy of Ukraine of the 1st convocation.
Mamchur, Stepan, had 5 years of imprisonment in a Polish prison (1934-39). A participant in propaganda groups that traveled to eastern Ukrainian lands. He was a stanitsa chief. In the 1950s, he settled in Irpin near Kyiv. Arrested in 1957, imprisoned for 25 years. Died on May 10, 1977, in camp VS-389/35 in Perm Oblast. Reburied in Irpin on July 26, 2001.
Malozhensky, Vasyl, insurgent. Was in hiding until the late 1960s. Sentenced to 15 years. Served time in the Perm camps. Smuggled information out of the zone.
Melnychuk, Taras (Aug. 20, 1938 – March 29, 1995. Imprisoned on Jan. 24, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 3 years, for a second time in January 1979 under Art. 207 (“hooliganism”) for 4 years, winner of the Shevchenko Prize in 1992).
Motriuk, Mykola Mykolayovych, b. Feb. 20, 1949, in the village of Kazaniv, Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Arr. March 15, 1973, sentenced under Art. 62, p. 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”) and 64 (“creation of an anti-Soviet organization”) to 4 years of imprisonment. Served his sentence in the camps of Perm Oblast.
Pidhorodetskyi, Vasyl, b. Oct. 19, 1925, insurgent, arrested in February 1953, imprisoned for 25 years of deprivation of liberty, 5 years of exile, and 5 years of deprivation of rights. For organizing strikes, he was re-sentenced to 25 years. Released on March 29, 1981, and tried two more times for “violating passport regulations.” In total, he spent 32 years in captivity.
Pirus, Vasyl, insurgent, a 25-year prisoner, served his sentence in the Perm camps in the 1970s. Currently lives in Kherson Oblast.
Sverstiuk, Yevhen, b. Dec. 13, 1928. A literary critic, publicist, one of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on Jan. 14, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 7 years and 5 years of exile. Served his sentence in the Perm camps and in Buryatia. Doctor of Philosophy, winner of the Shevchenko Prize in 1993.
Svitlychnyi, Ivan, Sept. 20, 1929 – Oct. 25, 1992. Recognized leader of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on Aug. 30, 1965, for 8 months without a trial; for a second time on Jan. 12, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 7 years and 5 years of exile. Winner of the Shevchenko Prize in 1994, posthumously.
Serhiyenko, Oles, b. June 25, 1932. Imprisoned on Jan. 12, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 7 years and 3 years of exile. Served his sentence in Perm Oblast and in Khabarovsk Krai.
Symchych, Myroslav, b. Jan. 5, 1923, commander of the Berezivska Company of the UPA. Imprisoned on Dec. 4, 1948, for 25 years, for participating in a strike re-sentenced to another 25. Released on Dec. 7, 1963. Without a trial on Jan. 28, 1968, he was imprisoned for another 15 years, and toward the end of his term for another 2.5 years. A total of 32 years, 6 months, and 3 days of captivity. Lives in Kolomyia.
Slipyi, Yosyf. B. Nov. 17, 1892, from 1944 – Metropolitan of the UGCC. On April 11, 1945, arrested by NKVD organs. Pardoned on Jan. 23, 1963, and released to the Vatican. In 1975, declared Patriarch of the UCC. Died on Sept. 7, 1984, in Rome.
“Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia” (SUMH) – an underground youth organization. It emerged in January-February 1972 in the village of Pechenizhyn, Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. The initiator of the Union's creation was metalworker Dmytro Hrynkiv. The SUMH considered itself the successor to the OUN under new conditions, and its goal was to create an independent Ukrainian socialist state (similar to Poland or Czechoslovakia). Hrynkiv and engineer Dmytro Demydov developed the statute and program for the SUMH but did not have time to adopt them. The group consisted of 12 people, and its members (workers and students) held meetings (a kind of seminar), obtained several rifles, learned to shoot, collected OUN literature, memoirs, and insurgent songs. The SUMH was uncovered by the KGB; in March-April 1973, the group's members were arrested, and five of them were convicted (Dmytro Hrynkiv, Dmytro Demydiv, Mykola Motriuk, Roman Chuprey, Vasyl-Ivan Shovkovyi).
Stus, Vasyl b. Jan. 7, 1938 – Sept. 4, 1985. Arrested on Jan. 12, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1, for 5 years of imprisonment and 3 years of exile (Mordovia, Magadan Oblast). For a second time on May 14, 1980, he died in a punishment cell of the special-regime camp VS-389/36 in Kuchino, Perm Oblast, on the night of September 4, 1985. A member of the UHG, a poet, T. Shevchenko Prize in 1993, posthumously. On Nov. 19, 1989, he was reburied at Baikove Cemetery along with Y. Lytvyn and O. Tykhyi.
Chornovil, Viacheslav, Dec. 24, 1937 – March 25, 1999. One of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on Aug. 3, 1967, under Art. 187-1 for 1.5 years; for a second time on Jan. 12, 1972, under Art. 62, p. 1 for 6 years and 5 years of exile; for a third time in April 1980 for 5 years, released in 1983. Returned to Ukraine in May 1985. Editor of the journal “Ukrainian Herald” (1970-72, 1987-90), member of the UHG, People's Deputy of Ukraine of the 1st–4th convocations, leader of the NRU, winner of the T. Shevchenko Prize (1996), Hero of Ukraine (posthumously).
Chuprey, Roman Vasylyovych, b. July 1, 1948, village of Pechenizhyn, now Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast, member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Arr. March 15, 1973, sentenced under Art. 62, p. 1 (anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda) and 64 (creation of an anti-Soviet organization) to 4 years of imprisonment. Served his sentence in the camps of Perm Oblast.
Shovkovyi, Vasyl-Ivan Vasylyovych, b. July 7, 1950, village of Pechenizhyn, now Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Charges against him included Art. 62, p. 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”), 64 (“creation of an anti-Soviet organization”), 140, p. 2 (“theft”), 222, p. 1 (“manufacturing and possession of weapons”), 223, p. 2 (“theft of weapons”). Sentenced to 5 years in strict-regime camps. Served his sentence in Perm Oblast.
Chuprey, Roman Vasylyovych, b. July 1, 1948, village of Pechenizhyn, now Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast, member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Arr. March 15, 1973, sentenced under Art. 62, p. 1 (anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda) and 64 (creation of an anti-Soviet organization) to 4 years of imprisonment. Served his sentence in the camps of Perm Oblast.
Photos by V. Ovsienko:
Demydiv Film roll 9629, frame 7A, March 21, 2002, Pechenizhyn settlement. Dmytro DEMYDIV.
Demydiv2 Film roll 9629, frame 6A, March 21, 2002, Pechenizhyn settlement. Dmytro DEMYDIV, his wife Mariia, grandson Dmytryk, son Petro.
Photo:
Demydiv1 Dmytro DEMYDIV in his youth.
