Vasyl Ovsienko: On March 21, 2000, in the city of Kolomyia, at the home of Mr. Myroslav Symchych* (*Information about political prisoners and certain realities has been moved to the end and arranged in alphabetical order. – Ed.), we are speaking with Mr. Roman Chuprei.
Roman Chuprei: I am Roman Vasylovych Chuprei, born on July 1, 1948. I was born in the village of Pechenizhyn, Kolomyia Raion. At that time, it was the Pechenizhyn Raion, which was the raion center. I went to school there and in my upper-grade years, I met Dmytro Hrynkiv. He was a native of the village of Markivka. Sometimes we would meet, and we would gather at my place for discussions. For some reason, we were always interested in questions of a national character. Why do we live like this? Why can’t we go to church, why is everything forbidden?
And my late mother studied at a seminary in Kolomyia back when this was Poland and completed a teacher's course. In her youth, she worked in Bereziv at the “Ridna Shkola” (Native School). As far as I know, she taught various subjects, but her main specialty was history.
V.O. Please, tell me more about your mother.
R.Ch. Her maiden name was Lutsak, Hafia Vasylivna. She was born in 1906 and died in 1983. When I was already in the camp, I met Mykola Henyk* from Bereziv—he had been her student. Both he and my mother herself told me how the national spirit was raised in the “Ridna Shkola.” Because the “Ridna Shkola” was not state-run, but national. At that time, here in the western territories, it was permitted to organize “Ridna Shkolas.” When Carpatho-Ukraine came into being, all the boys from the upper grades went to its aid. All the boys, the young men—such was the high national spirit in our “Ridna Shkola”! Unfortunately, that is not the case today.
My mother had a very good memory. She was an old, refined intellectual. We still have a long way to go to reach that level. She would give lectures, of a sort, to us young boys. We were still schoolchildren—ninth grade, tenth, then we finished 11th grade. Those discussions prompted us to think, and an idea began to form in our heads.
The first summer after school, in 1966, Hrynkiv and I applied to the Lviv Polytechnic Institute together. We didn't pass the competitive entrance exams.
V.O. That year there were two graduating classes: the 10th and 11th grades. There were an enormous number of graduates, so it was difficult to get in. I also finished 10th grade then.
R.Ch. Those born in 1948 and 1949 finished school at the same time; we were the children of the post-war baby boom: the nation was renewing itself. Afterward, Hrynkiv and I worked together in Dnipropetrovsk. We applied again there and again failed the competitive exams. Dmytro stayed there to work, and I returned home. He went into the army from there, and I applied again and finally got into the Lviv Polytechnic, in the faculty of automation. That was in 1969.
After the army, Hrynkiv returned to Kolomyia, and I was in Lviv. We would meet, and during our meetings, we discussed how to organize our activities to raise the national spirit, at least within our circle of old friends. Because it was difficult in society as a whole, so at least among our closer friends.
V.O. Did any samvydav literature reach you?
R.Ch. No. It didn’t reach us.
V.O. But you probably listened to broadcasts from Radio Liberty, Voice of America?
R.Ch. That we did. We had some access to old publications. I personally had a “Chervona Kalyna” calendar from 1936 and 1939. It was so worn out by the years, because it had survived the war. We would somehow get things from people and read them aloud. These were old things, but they were still interesting because they were forbidden at the time. We would read them aloud and discuss them.
V.O. There were probably national symbols in them?
R.Ch. Yes, of course. The thing is, what is forbidden is tempting. Now you don't pay any attention to it, but back then, to see a Tryzub, a little blue-and-yellow flag—that was something!
V.O. The guys mentioned that you were very alarmed by the arrests of the intelligentsia. Specifically, the arrest of Valentyn Moroz on June 1, 1970*. And then the wave of arrests that began on January 12, 1972*.
R.Ch. Even before that, I had heard about Levko Lukianenko*, about the “Ukrainian National Front”*. We discussed this. And what was Lukianenko’s organization called?
V.O. The Ukrainian Workers’ and Peasants’ Union. Information about it came out around 1966. I remember there was a radio broadcast in 1969. Because right after they were imprisoned in 1961, almost no one heard anything about them.
R.Ch. In 1961 it was brief. I remember that—it was on “Radio Liberty.” We were already deeply affected by it then. At that time, the vast majority of older people were nationally conscious, because they were a people who lived under oppression, so they had resistance. It's a natural reaction. Everyone was united. So we hoped for support. When we created the organization, we took this into account.
V.O. The guys say that you first gathered on January 31, 1972, at Vasyl Shovkovy’s place.
R.Ch. Yes. It was at Shovkovy's home. That's when we adopted pseudonyms.
V.O. What was your pseudonym? Did you make them up yourselves, or did someone give them to you?
R.Ch. Some were made up for us, others we chose for ourselves. No one imposed them. My pseudonym was “Khmil” (Hop), Demydov's was “Voron” (Raven), Hrynkiv's was “Hrim-Hora” (Thunder-Mountain), Shovkovy's was “Klym,” and Motriuk's was “Lisovyk” (Forest Spirit).
V.O. Are they in the verdict?
R.Ch. Everything is recorded there. Motriuk has the verdict, but mine was confiscated during transit because it was classified as “secret.”
We then established who was responsible for what. Hrynkiv was recognized as the head of the organization.
V.O. And who came up with the name?
R.Ch. We all discussed it and didn't immediately arrive at the final name, “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” We added “of Galicia” later. At first, there were some slightly unsuccessful variations.
What were our tasks? To obtain literature, familiarize ourselves with it, recruit people, expand to other territories, and establish contacts with other organizations, if any existed. Even, if possible, with those abroad. I was a student, so my job was to recruit students. But this had to be done very carefully. I recruited a fellow student, Romanyshyn, into the organization.
V.O. What's his first name? In Anatoliy Rusnachenko's book, it is written as “B.”* (* National Liberation Movement in Ukraine. Mid-1950s – Early 1990s. Kyiv: Olena Teliha Publishing House, 1998, p. 207).
R.Ch. Bohdan. The thing is, after our arrest, there was no information about Romanyshyn. He didn't even appear at the trial. It's unknown where this person is. He's from Kalush Raion. He wasn't a witness of any kind. Later, we wanted to make some inquiries about him. Maybe he moved far away.
Since I was studying in Lviv, I was rarely in Kolomyia, maybe once a month, so I couldn't be at every meeting. I missed many meetings and knew fewer details about the course of events.
V.O. But you were at that meeting on January 31 at Vasyl Shovkovy's. How did it happen? Who called it? What was said? I'm interrogating you like an investigator. But I'd like to know the circumstances. Let's imagine that someday someone will want to recreate that scene, to write, say, a drama, a screenplay, to act out that event. But we don't know how it was. The living details would be very important.
R.Ch. As far as I remember, no one could give an order, because we were all people of one mind. Well, who could have said: let's meet then and then? It could have been Hrynkiv. The idea to gather and discuss the creation of an organization arose on its own. It was spontaneous. We had already been meeting and discussing such things, so we concluded that it was time to somehow show ourselves. Hrynkiv was the most active. He showed the most initiative. Those were the years of our youth, a kind of romanticism and enthusiasm.
V.O. He told me how you took an oath: he stuck a knife into the table, and everyone placed their hands on the hilt. Did that happen?
R.Ch. Something romantic like that did happen. But it was serious. Truly: the organization adopting a name, the distribution of tasks—that was the main work.
V.O. There were indeed signs of an organization, although no papers were written. Was a program text or charter developed?
R.Ch. No. We didn't have a charter or a program as such yet. We wrote down some things about the organization's affairs. But since it was an underground activity, we tried to leave as few documents about ourselves as possible. In fact, we didn't do anything so seditious. Well, a word—that was already sedition.
V.O. Did you understand that by creating an organization, you would face consequences? Or was that pushed so far into the future that you thought maybe it wouldn't happen?
R.Ch. On the one hand, we understood, but on the other, we didn't think the danger was so close. There was fear, because we lived under the press, under the oppression of that great black state. But in one's youth, danger is perceived completely differently. You understand, it's youth.
V.O. I understand you, because I was also doing risky things at the very same time.
R.Ch. I couldn't even imagine that it would turn out this way. We thought it would be wonderful if we had our own state, if our people could live freely, to give them freedom. After all, this is natural. A person is born free, and we were born into bondage. We longed for freedom. And here was such oppression, living under the fear of judgment. And the stories of older people, how the KGB, the Chekists, persecuted them... This left an imprint on the psyche. But there was a yearning for freedom.
Well, I was studying in Lviv, I came home sometimes, but I don't remember the dates. It's recorded in the case file when I was present at the meetings.
The guys got a carbine somewhere in the summer. We were heavily accused because of the weapon.
V.O. And you had nothing to do with the weapon and weren't incriminated with anything other than anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda and creating an organization?
R.Ch. Basically, no. I only had Articles 62 and 64.
A friend of mine, a Lviv student of Russian nationality, appears in my case. He once confided in me that his father was in the military and had two personalized pistols. He boasted that he could shoot. I told Hrynkiv about this, and he was interested in weapons. He says: “Let's arrange to take those pistols.” I wasn't very eager to seize these pistols and shoot them. As it later became known from the case file, there was a German “Walther” there. The KGB did find those pistols that we didn't take.
V.O. Aha, so you only had the intention, but didn't take them, and the KGB found and confiscated them?
R.Ch. Yes, they confiscated them. Hrynkiv says: “You prepare the ground, and we'll come and get them.” How? There was a discussion, but it wasn't final. And then one day, he sends me a letter where he writes about “Operation Lotus,” even though we had absolutely not agreed on anything like that. And the thing is, this colleague, a Russian, had the last name Lotov. Hrynkiv hinted in this way: “Operation Lotus”—so I understood what he was talking about. I didn't burn this letter, and they found it during the search and arrest. And then: “What's this ‘Operation Lotus’?” They uncovered this “operation,” even though nothing had been arranged for it. It was Hrynkiv's poetic imagery.
V.O. He's a poet. Inspiration struck him and he called it an operation, and then you had to take the rap for it... (They laugh).
R.Ch. And for the KGB, it was a terrifying operation!
V.O. And so, you had to explain to them what “Operation Lotus” was?
R.Ch. I explained it to them, but they didn't believe me. In practice, there was no operation. They themselves seized those pistols from Lotov.
V.O. We've somehow automatically moved on to the investigation. But I wanted to hear how you were arrested. Under what circumstances were you taken?
R.Ch. There were some interesting nuances. Before that, I lived in a dormitory, but in 1972 I went with a student construction brigade to Tyumen to earn some money. I had to pass my exams early to leave sooner. I passed the main exams, but didn't manage to get credit for physical education, so things got so complicated that I had to move into a private apartment.
At that time, I was the group's elder. About a month before my arrest, the dean of the faculty summoned me and said that we weren't conducting agitational work, political events. I didn't understand what he was getting at. I didn't suspect that the sword of Damocles was already hanging over us. Maybe here in Kolomyia, they knew something...
There was a trade union organizer in my year, he seemed to be from Kolomyia. He says: “Watch what you say...”
Only after my arrest did I understand that they were warning me, that there were some signals from the KGB to the institute.
I was living in an apartment then in the Kultparkivska area, near the psychiatric hospital, on Lystova Street, 12. It's across the railway, towards the airport, on the outskirts of the city, with some landlords. Such fine landlords, Ukrainians, nationally conscious people. And they had a son. He tells me that some people approached him and said they would install microphones or sensors because they had the right to monitor or eavesdrop for drugs. Later I realized that they were preparing to listen to me. But at the time, I didn't even think about it.
One day, at dawn on March 15, 1973, around five or six in the morning, they came, knocking. Witnesses, a search. They immediately read to me that it was in connection with the Hrynkiv case. There's a warrant, there's a prosecutor's sanction for the search. Well, and they found that letter on me.
V.O. You occupied one room there, so did they search only that room or the whole apartment?
R.Ch. No, only my room. Another student lived in that room with me, but he wasn't there at the time. He was somewhat unreliable, I didn't trust him.
What's interesting? We had a rule at the institute that you could attend or not attend lectures, but if you missed the military department classes three times, you were immediately expelled from the institute. I had already been under investigation for six months (my mother told me this later) when a letter came home from the military department: where am I, why am I not coming to classes?
V.O. Strange that they weren't informed of your arrest. So they took you with them on the morning of March 15?
R.Ch. Yes, they took me. In Lviv, there's 1 Myr Street, the KGB... It was unexpected for me.
V.O. But the guys said that they knew something, that there were some signals of danger. Hrynkiv even gave the command to destroy anything suspicious people might have.
R.Ch. But for me, it was like a bolt from the blue. We hadn't been exposed anywhere, it seemed. Unless Hrynkiv slipped up with the seal.
V.O. It wasn't even a seal yet, but a blank for a seal.
R.Ch. It still needed to be engraved. This engraver, Stadnychenko, was the one who informed on us, that was clarified. Although we were held under arrest separately, each of us understood in our own way where the information was coming from. You didn't have to be very smart to figure it out. The case was crudely fabricated. But I didn't know that at the time.
They took me, drove me to the city center, to the KGB on 1 Myr Street, and interrogated me. I say, “I don't know anything. Ah, Hrynkiv? I know him. He was a classmate, we went to Dnipropetrovsk together.” I wasn't going to say I didn't know him, since we spent our youth together, went to school together. In fact, they knew almost everything.
That same evening, they put me in a “Volga,” two more KGB officers and operatives get in, and we drive to Ivano-Frankivsk. In Frankivsk, they interrogate me again. I say I don't know anything. They give me a hotel room because for now, I'm being treated as a witness. They still have little information about me. They don't know what I was doing in Lviv. I understand that there are observers watching me in the hotel. And during the day, they let me go for lunch. And what's lunch for a student? I walked around the city, but I saw someone watching me. They knew I had a colleague in Frankivsk. But I didn't make a move, I just went to the hotel. I was free for another two days. But it wasn't freedom anymore, I was already “under surveillance.” They probably wanted me to contact someone, to call someone, to let them know. I felt it. I spent the night in the hotel, and on March 17, they presented me with an arrest warrant. Then they showed me their cards. Because until then, they just kept asking what was what. But when they put me in a cell, they already told me that they knew about our organization, about the weapons. Then the interrogations begin. I don't know who was arrested. I only know that it's in connection with the Hrynkiv case. But who else from our colleagues—I don't know. The situation is so uncertain... How to behave during interrogations, who to protect? So I go with the line that I don't know anything, except what they present to me. I'm already following their words and more or less orienting myself on what I can answer and what I should keep silent about. On about the second day, I heard Hrynkiv's voice from a cell. Then we called out to each other. He told me who was arrested, who was sitting here: Motriuk, Shovkovy... And Demydov was arrested later, on April 13.
V.O. During the investigation, were any means of physical or psychological pressure used? Did they conduct a psychiatric evaluation on you? Because they did it for almost all political prisoners.
R.Ch. No, they didn't conduct a psychiatric evaluation on us. What they used against us as blackmail was Article 56—“treason against the Motherland.” It hung over us for more than two months. They scared us with 15 years or the death penalty. That was probably psychological pressure. But as for physical—no.
V.O. And was there no in-cell terror? Through cellmates?
R.Ch. No, not against me. It seems they put someone in with Demydov.
V.O. And Shovkovy said he had to slam one guy against the door, and then they took him away.
R.Ch. It didn't happen to me. There was some snitch near me, a common criminal. An older man. It was unavoidable.
After the trial, while waiting for transit, they tried to recruit me for collaboration. One of them called me in for an interview. Later he would come to the zone as a curator from the regional KGB.
I don't remember exactly how long the trial lasted—about a week, well, up to ten days. But the trial was closed, it's even written in the verdict. There were no relatives in the courtroom, but they let relatives in for the final word. My mother was there.
V.O. How did you endure the arrest, investigation, and trial?
R.Ch. To answer that, one would have to live through it all again. It was a blow. If I had been given time to prepare psychologically for it, I would have perceived it completely differently. But I actually didn't feel any threat. If I had at least destroyed that letter, there would have been no compromising facts, no documents against me.
V.O. It shatters one's destiny, one's education is lost...
R.Ch. Of course, yes. A young age—and such a heavy, unexpected blow. Very painful. They gave me 4 years, and the guys got 5 each. Hrynkiv got 7 by verdict and 3 of exile.
V.O. After that, the transit. Transit is a very interesting event, especially the first time. You see so many wonders!
R.Ch. And they transported us together.
V.O. It's a great miracle that you, co-defendants, were transported together.
R.Ch. And on the way, in Kharkiv, we met Zorian Popadiuk*, Yaromyr Mykytko*, and Liubomyr Starosolsky*. They were left in Mordovia. They took them away sometime during the night. They didn't even let us say goodbye, because they had scattered us a bit at the transit prison. I didn't think that in Kharkiv I would suddenly meet my own guys, under the same article. We talked our fill. And then they separated us. After that, we didn't see each other for years.
But the zone is a kind of school. I ended up in the 36th. That's Kuchyno in Perm Oblast, strict regime. There I met Levko Lukianenko*, Ivan Pokrovsky*, Oleksa Riznykiv*, Yevhen Sverstiuk*. Among the young ones (from the Ternopil group) were Stepan Sapeliak*, Volodia Senkiv*. Other Ukrainians—Bohdan Chornomaz*. From the old insurgents—Mykola Kurchyk*, Turyk* (Turyk seems to have died, but Kurchyk—I don't know), Viktor Solodky*. Hnot*—he wasn't an insurgent, a guy from Lviv. I think he was in the 35th. I don't remember his co-defendant. I don't remember the last names of many of the older men. There was Mykola Henyk* from our area (he seems to have died), from Bereziv. From Kosmach, there was Paliychuk*. These were from the older guys.
V.O. And what kind of work were you forced to do there?
R.Ch. They produced clothes irons there. There was no assembly, but we made the heating elements—those elements that heat up. We made the contacts—the small panels where the light bulb is screwed in and lights up. We made plastic handles for the irons. But the main thing was the heating elements. That's the part that makes the iron function.
V.O. Do you remember the administration of that zone?
R.Ch. At first, the zone warden was Major Kotov, and the head of the regime was Major Fyodorov.
V.O. I know Fyodorov too. He was a scoundrel. He now heads the organization of veterans of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Perm Oblast.
R.Ch. Those whitish-gray eyes... I wonder how he sees it all now? But what could he see? Was he even a person? It's hard to say he was a person. There was nothing sacred in his soul.
Then Kotov seemed to have been promoted. There was also Nelipovych, supposedly a Belarusian. From the lower ranks, one could name Captain Rak. There was such a Rak.
V.O. I knew him when he was already a major.
R.Ch. Really? He was quite an interesting type. Sometimes it was hard to understand him. We had arguments. Hrynkiv and I, often on the second shift when he was on duty, would say: “Well, you, Rak—you're a Ukrainian. How can you, a Ukrainian, guard a Ukrainian who was oppressed for fighting for the freedom of his people?” We always tried to draw him into conversation, but he would evade with such cunning excuses. Sometimes he behaved very suspiciously. We celebrated Easter in the zone. There was a man there, Semen Kifiak*, from Chernivtsi Oblast. He organized everything. He could make such a cake out of nothing! Beautiful, with an inscription. We would all sit in the yard to drink tea. Spring, the sun was warming us. Well, there were no Easter eggs or sausage, but—it was Easter. We prayed. Ivan Pokrovsky* had something from the church. I don't know if his father was a priest or not, but there was something. So he gave us a parting word. And this Captain Rak loved to come into the zone with a camera and take pictures. I thought: what does he need these photos for? Could he really be passing them on somewhere?
V.O. But he couldn't have taken photos on his own initiative. He must have had permission for that. After all, photographing prisoners was officially forbidden, except for documents.
R.Ch. Well, that's clear, but no one else did it, only Rak. So Hrynkiv and I thought to ourselves: what kind of man is he? There were such interesting moments.
V.O. Did you serve your entire term in this 36th zone, in Kuchyno? There were protests, hunger strikes, statements, the struggle for the status of a political prisoner*, renunciations of citizenship. The sending of information outside the zone was well-organized there—were you also boiling in that cauldron?
R.Ch. It happened, it happened, and more than once. There were statements, and hunger strikes—everything. But the transfer of information was better organized in the 35th zone. We had failures. I don't know why. I participated not directly, only in some links. We had failures. Someone would be writing somewhere outside. And—immediately they'd surround him from all sides... But such work was being done.
Who else do I know? Pavlo Kampov*—a colorful figure, to some extent even a comedic character. The thing is, in the early days, he suffered a lot. He took imprisonment very hard because he was a sort of pampered person. I don't know, maybe he hardened up later. But at first, he was so tearful.
V.O. As Lenin said, “the rotten intelligentsia.” They say that the poet Osip Mandelstam would walk up to the cell door, tap delicately with his finger, and ask the guard: “Please, let me go home. I was not made for prison.” Was it something like that?
R.Ch. Even before we arrived, Kampov had sat in the ShIZO (punishment cell) for two or three days and said: “No idea is worth torturing a person like this!” He said this in such a pathetic voice! Or: “Mr. Semen, I am so sick!” Well, that was his psychology! There's no reason to blame the man, but everyone there would imitate him: “Mr. Semen, I'm so sick, so sick!” It was on everyone's lips. What can you do, not everyone can endure such troubles, either psychologically or physically. We sometimes laughed at him, but now when I remember, I feel kind of sorry for him. He remained there after us.
V.O. He served another sentence and was released right around the time of the Constituent Congress of the People's Movement of Ukraine, so around September 8-10, 1989. Now he heads the Transcarpathian regional organization of the All-Ukrainian Society of Political Prisoners and Repressed Persons. And he's very feisty! He managed to get the Uzhhorod city authorities to allocate money for the Society, at least to hold a funeral for the next political prisoner who dies. And for the salary of at least one person who handles the Society's correspondence and documentation. He writes a lot to newspapers about the repressions. He's a very respected man in Uzhhorod.
R.Ch. That's why he was imprisoned, for running in an election.
V.O. And he got 38,000 votes! That was under Soviet rule, in 1970!
R.Ch. As a counterbalance to some communist who was supposed to get one hundred percent of the votes.
V.O. And how was your health there? How did the food affect you? Did you suffer much physically?
R.Ch. No. I can live on bread alone... In that regard, I didn't suffer.
V.O. And how were you released?
R.Ch. I was released like everyone else. From around 1974-75, only old people and those who were in their service were released directly from the zone. But all the active ones, whom they suspected could pass on fresh information, were transported to their home oblasts. To prevent them from going to Moscow. Because the Moscow Helsinki Group* was already active then, the journal “Chronicle of Current Events”* was being published, whoever was running it at that time... Aleksandr Lavut* was in Moscow then. About a month before the end of my term, at the beginning of February 1977, they took me and Dmytro Demydov to the 35th, to the hospital. They kept us there for two or three weeks. They gave us some drops—zamanykha. It's vitamins, to raise your tone. And they gave Demydov some other injections, vitamins. He was so thin, he looked like he needed it. I joked: “They're probably going to trade you to the Americans for a Soviet spy.” (They laugh).
R.Ch. They put someone in the cell with us. After that, I traveled alone to Ivano-Frankivsk. There were some incidents with the convoy. They brought me to Frankivsk, I sat there for a bit, they called me into the KGB, explained how to behave. They put me under administrative supervision.
V.O. And where did they place you under supervision? You were arrested in Lviv, but where did they bring you?
R.Ch. The thing is, I was actually arrested in Frankivsk. They took me in Lviv as a witness, I was there for another two days. And on that basis, they returned me to Ivano-Frankivsk. They released me there. They registered me and put me under supervision for a year in Pechenizhyn. My parents were still alive. Standard supervision. I had to be home from ten at night until six in the morning, and not leave the raion. I had to sign in every Saturday.
V.O. Did you manage to get a job?
R.Ch. The thing is, I didn't really want to go to work, because I knew what it smelled like. You understand, I returned from the zone... Here the local population was already scared to death by those searches, by the KGB. They had already made us out to be spies and who knows what else! The local party hacks said we were enemies of the people. And to go to work somewhere? It wasn't very pleasant for me, but I had to go. I go, say, to any enterprise in Kolomyia. We have a woodworking plant. I go to the personnel department, ask: “Do you need anyone?” – “We do.” It was very easy to get a job then. I bring my documents. He writes things down, looks at my work record book: “And what's this here?” he asks. – “Oh, I was studying.” – “And here?” – “That's when I was in prison. I was recently released.” – “Where were you imprisoned?” – “For a political article, as a particularly dangerous state criminal.” Straight to his face like that. He says: “I'll make a call right now.” This and that: “Sorry, come back tomorrow.” And that's exactly what I needed. I spent about six months trying to get a job. Because I didn't need one.
V.O. But in the meantime, they probably threatened to imprison you as a “parasite”?
R.Ch. It was like this for me. The KGB guys would ask: “Have you found a job yet?” I would say: “You know, as soon as I tell the personnel department that I've had dealings with you, they're afraid of me. I don't know if you're that scary, or if I am.” Just like that. The thing is, I'm also a bit of a musician. There was this situation. My musician colleagues got a gig playing in a restaurant. They say: “Come play with us!” I go to the police station for my second Saturday check-in. I ask: “It seems I'm allowed to work. Are there any restrictions on work?” – “No, none!” – this was at the KGB. I say: “Good!” I approach the restaurant administrator. She was this old woman who didn't care about the KGB. I tell her straight: “Iryna,” – I don't remember her patronymic – “I was recently released. I was imprisoned on a political charge. Does that bother you?” – “Ah,” she says, “guys, as long as I have music and clients, everything's fine!” And I was still under supervision, I had to be home by 10 p.m., and there you had to play until 11, and sometimes longer. No problem. She signs my application, takes my work record book. We worked for a week, and on Saturday they ask me again: “Well, Roman, have you found a job?” – “I have.” – “That can't be? Where? What are you doing?” – “I'm playing in a restaurant.” He stared at me with wide eyes: “Roman, that's not respectable.” In short, it turned out that they raked all the guys over the coals because of me, and I was weeded out. I didn't even work there for a month—it wasn't convenient for them. Then I went to work for the municipal services in Pechenizhyn, worked as an electrician. Then I started building a house.
V.O. I was told that you didn't manage to finish building the house. Because it's well-known how construction was done in Soviet times. You didn't so much buy materials as “get” them. And to “get” them, you had to be loyal to the authorities. Because if you started to “get” them, they would have quickly gotten you...
R.Ch. That's not the issue. I wasn't even “getting” them. I paid money to a municipal organization, and it handled the entire construction completely legally. I also had some privileges, I could buy some materials at state prices. But that didn't work out. They wanted me to sign some article in the newspaper where Lukianenko* was mentioned. They didn't even show me the article. They just said: “You'll have to sign it. A comrade wrote it... You have to agree, because those people drew you in, agitated you, and you went down the wrong path.” Something along those lines*. (*Note by D. Hrynkiv. That article was published in the district newspaper “Chervonyi Prapor” (Red Banner), I think, in 1979. It was about the guys with whom R. Chuprei was imprisoned, and it condemned my position). It was a trade-off for them to allow me to build a residential house. Since I refused, the construction stopped.
V.O. And you wanted to build a house in Pechenizhyn?
R.Ch. Yes, I was living with my parents, I got married. And my older sister lived with my parents, she has three children. And Vasyl lived in my wife's house. He still lives there—where you were.
V.O. So you married Vasyl Shovkovy’s sister, Liuba? And when did you do this deed?
R.Ch. On the same day as Vasyl Shovkovy. We had a joint wedding. It was so long ago...
V.O. If you've forgotten when you got married, maybe you should get married again!
R.Ch. Mr. Vasyl, no! No need, it is what it is. I got married at thirty-five. It was in the fall, around the sixth or seventh of November. 48 plus 35—how much is that? – 83. The year 1983.
V.O. So you have a “shovkova” (silken) wife and kids to match?
R.Ch. I have two children. The older one is Khrystynka. Is it necessary to say this?
V.O. Let it be recorded. Someday, maybe in a hundred years, when we're gone, someone will be looking: “Ah, his children still exist!” So, Khrystynka is the oldest. What grade is she in?
R.Ch. Ninth grade, born in 1985. And Taras is in sixth grade, he's 12 years old.
V.O. Thank you. And since when have you been here in Kolomyia and under what conditions? Do you work somewhere here?
R.Ch. I work at the cheese factory now. We've been renting an apartment here since 1992. But the situation here is so uncertain that it's better to send letters to me at Hrynkiv's address.
V.O. Understood. And when “perestroika” came, I am absolutely sure that it inspired you to new feats and you took part in public organizations?
R.Ch. Of course, all of that happened. But I didn't hold any positions. I was a member of the Ukrainian Helsinki Union*, the Ukrainian Republican Party*, the Union of Political Prisoners*, “Memorial”*, and the Ukrainian Language Society*.
V.O. We've all been through that. Did you run as a candidate for deputy?
R.Ch. No. I couldn't register as a candidate because of my residency permit.
V.O. I know of publications about the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia” by Anatoliy Rusnachenko, Heorhiy Kasyanov* (See: Anatoliy Rusnachenko. National Liberation Movement in Ukraine. Mid-1950s — Early 1990s.— Kyiv: Olena Teliha Publishing House, 1998.— pp. 206-208; Heorhiy Kasyanov. Dissenters: The Ukrainian Intelligentsia in the Resistance Movement of the 1960s-1980s.— Kyiv: Lybid, 1995.— p. 143. Maybe you know of other publications, maybe you wrote something?
R.Ch. No, I didn't write anything. I only read two articles with Hrynkiv in the local press, but they were quite superficial, and with factual errors. It's not worth citing these sources.
V.O. Thank you for an objective and substantive account. It's already approaching midnight. By the time you get home... Wait! I'll take a picture of you as a memento...
Information about persons and realities mentioned in Roman Chuprei’s interview.
Arrests of January 12, 1972 – a KGB operation aimed against Ukrainian samvydav, as a result of which its main authors and organizers were imprisoned.
All-Ukrainian Society of Political Prisoners and Repressed Persons was established on June 3, 1989, in Kyiv on Lvivska Square. The permanent chairman is Yevhen Proniuk.
Hrynkiv, Dmytro Dmytrovych, leader of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia” (1972). B. 11.06.1949 in the village of Markivka, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Arrested 15.03.1973 in Kolomyia. Convicted under Art. 62, Part 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”), 64 (“participation in an anti-Soviet organization”), 81 (“theft of state property”), 140 (“theft”), and 223 (“theft of weapons and ammunition”) of the Criminal Code of the UkrSSR and sentenced to 7 years in strict-regime camps and 3 years of exile. Served his sentence in camp VS-389/36 in the village of Kuchyno, Perm Oblast. Released in 1978. A writer. Lives in Kolomyia.
Henyk, Mykola, an insurgent, originally from Bereziv in the Kolomyia region, was imprisoned in the Perm camps in the 1970s.
Hnot – a political prisoner from Lviv. Was imprisoned in the 35th zone of Perm Oblast.
Demydov, Dmytro Illich, b. 03.12.1948 in the village of Pechenizhyn, Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia” (1972). Arrested 4.04.1973. Under Art. 62, Part 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”), 64 (“participation in an anti-Soviet organization”), and 223, Part 2 of the Criminal Code of the UkrSSR (“theft of weapons”), sentenced to 5 years in strict-regime camps. Served his sentence in the Perm camp VS-389/36.
Kampov, Pavlo, b. 21.09.1929 in Transcarpathia. Imprisoned in 1970 for 6 years in the camps of Mordovia, Perm Oblast, and 5 years of exile in Tomsk Oblast. A second time – on 22.04.81 for 10 years in the strict-regime camps of Kuybyshev, Kirov. Released on 30.08.89.
Kifiak, Semen, an insurgent from Chernivtsi Oblast, was imprisoned in the Perm camps in the 1970s.
Kurchyk, Mykola, b. 1927, insurgent, arrested in 1946, 1954.
Lavut, Aleksandr, member of the “Initiative Group for the Defense of Human Rights in the USSR” (1969). Arrested in April 1980 for helping Crimean Tatars.
Lukianenko, Levko, b. 24.08.1928, imprisoned on 20.01.1961 for 15 years under Art. 56 and 62, Part 1 for creating the Ukrainian Workers' and Peasants' Union, a second time ─ on 12.12.1977 under Art. 62, Part 2 for 10 years and 5 of exile as a founding member of the Ukrainian Helsinki Group. Released in December 1988. Chairman of the UHU, URP, Ambassador of Ukraine to Canada, People's Deputy of the I-IV convocations.
”Memorial” – the All-Ukrainian Society “Memorial” named after V. Stus was created in March 1989 in Kyiv.
Moroz, Valentyn Yakovych, b. 15.04.1936, historian. Arrested in September 1965, 4 years under Art. 62, Part 1; a second time – 1.06.1970, under Part 2 of Art. 62 for 9 years in special-regime camps and 5 years of exile. On 29.04.1979, he was released and expelled to the USA. Currently a lecturer at Lviv University.
Motriuk, Mykola Mykolaiovych, b. 20.02.1949 in the village of Kazaniv, Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Arrested 15.03.1973, sentenced under Art. 62, Part 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.
Paliychuk, Dmytro from Kosmach, insurgent, a 25-year termer, was imprisoned in the Perm camps in the 1970s.
Pidhorodetsky, Vasyl, b. 19.10.1925, insurgent, arrested in February 1953, imprisoned for 25 years, 5 years of exile, and 5 years of disenfranchisement. For organizing strikes, he was re-sentenced to 25 years. Released on 29.03.1981, tried twice more “for violating the passport regime.” In total, he spent 32 years in captivity.
Riznykiv, Oleksa, b. 24.02.1937, imprisoned on 1.10.1959 under Art. 7 of the Law on Criminal Liability for State Crimes for 1.5 years, a second time ─ on 11.10.1971 under Art. 62, Part 1 for 5.5 years. A writer.
Sapeliak, Stepan, b. 26.03.1952. Member of the Rosokha group, arrested on 19.02.1973, 5 years imprisonment and 3 years of exile. Served his sentence in the Perm camps and in Khabarovsk Krai. A poet, laureate of the T. Shevchenko National Prize in 1993.
Sverstiuk, Yevhen, b. 13.12.1928. Literary critic, publicist, one of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on 14.01.1972 under Art. 62, Part 1 for 7 years and 5 of exile. Served his sentence in the Perm camps and in Buryatia. Doctor of Philosophy, Laureate of the Shevchenko Prize in 1993.
Senkiv, Volodymyr, b. 24.06.1954. Member of the Rosokha group. Arrested on 28.06.1973 under Art. 62, Part 2 and 64, 4 years imprisonment and 3 years of exile. Served his sentence in camp VS-389/36 in the village of Kuchyno, Perm Oblast, and in Tomsk Oblast.
Symchych, Myroslav, b. 5.01.1923, commander of the Bereziv company of the UPA. Imprisoned on 4.12.1948 for 25 years, re-sentenced to 25 for participating in a strike. Released on 7.12.1963. Without a trial, on 28.01.1968, he was imprisoned for another 15 years, and towards the end of his term, for 2.5 years. A total of 32 years, 6 months, and 3 days of captivity. Lives in Kolomyia.
Solodky, Viktor, insurgent, political prisoner, served his sentence in the Perm camps in the 1970s.
“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 the locksmith Dmytro Hrynkiv. The SUMH considered itself the successor of the OUN in new conditions, its goal was the creation of an independent Ukrainian socialist state (like Poland or Czechoslovakia). Hrynkiv and the engineer Dmytro Demydov developed the charter and program of the SUMH, but did not have time to adopt it. The group consisted of 12 people, 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, and in March-April 1973, the group's members were arrested, five of them were convicted (Dmytro Hrynkiv, Dmytro Demydov, Mykola Motriuk, Roman Chuprei, Vasyl-Ivan Shovkovy).
Status of a political prisoner. The idea of the status of a political prisoner arose in political camps in the mid-1970s. Since the authorities considered “particularly dangerous state criminals” as ordinary criminals, the prisoners adopted a self-developed status by de facto means: they refused to wear prison uniforms, name tags, demanded work according to their specialty, unlimited correspondence, normal medical care, and other things. This resulted in additional punishments.
Turyk, Andriy, b. 14.10.1927, insurgent, arrested in 1958, 25 years imprisonment. Died in 1975 (?)
Ukrainian Helsinki Group – The Ukrainian Public Group to Promote the Implementation of the Helsinki Accords was created on 9.11.1976 with the aim of disseminating in Ukraine the ideas of the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 10.12.1948, the free exchange of information and ideas, promoting the implementation of the humanitarian articles of the Final Act of the CSCE, and demanding the direct participation of the UkrSSR in the Helsinki process. Founding members: Mykola Rudenko, Petro Grigorenko, Oksana Meshko, Oles Berdnyk, Levko Lukianenko, Mykola Matusevych, Myroslav Marynovych, Nina Strokata, Oleksa Tykhy, Ivan Kandyba. 39 of the 41 UHG members were imprisoned. On 7.07.1988, it was transformed into the Ukrainian Helsinki Union, and on 29.04.1990, at its Constituent Congress, the main body of its membership created the Ukrainian Republican Party on its basis.
“Ukrainian National Front” – an underground organization founded in 1964 in Galicia (main figures D. Kvetsko, Z. Krasivskyi). Published 16 issues of the journal “Volia i Batkivshchyna” (Will and Fatherland). Arrests in March 1967.
“Chronicle of Current Events” began publication on April 30, 1968. The first editor was Tatiana Gorbanevskaya (until her arrest in December 1969), until 1972 – Anatoly Yakobson, then the editors changed due to arrests.
Chornovil, Viacheslav, 24.12.1937 – 25.03.1999. One of the leaders of the Sixtiers movement. Imprisoned on 3.08.1967 under Art. 187-1 for 1.5 years, a second time – 12.01.1972 under Art. 62, Part 1 for 6 years and 5 of exile, 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 I-IV convocations, leader of the NRU, laureate of the T. Shevchenko Prize (1996), Hero of Ukraine (posthumously).
ShIZO – shtrafnoy izolyator, punishment cell. Punishment was up to 15 days.
Shovkovy, Vasyl-Ivan Vasylovych, b. 7.07.1950, village of Pechenizhyn, now Kolomyia Raion, Ivano-Frankivsk Oblast. Member of the “Union of Ukrainian Youth of Galicia.” Incriminated under Art. 62, Part 1 (“anti-Soviet agitation and propaganda”), 64 (“creation of an anti-Soviet organization”), 140, Part 2 (“theft”), 222, Part 1 (“manufacture and storage of weapons”), 223, Part 2 (“theft of weapons”). Sentenced to 5 years in strict-regime camps. Served his sentence in Perm Oblast.
Photo by V. Ovsienko:
Chuprej Film 9629, frame 20A. 03.21.2000, Kolomyia. Roman CHUPREI at the home of M. Symchych.