Note
My first attempt to confront the question of our nation's future was the three-part collection of disjointed essays that became Sovereignty. The second was The New Rusyn Decade, a pamphlet on the possibility of a systematic evolution of our condition. This text is the product of the realization of the great many errors that both contained, and the desire to fix them.
I.
Before you is a declaration of ambition for the Rusyn nation. A vision for an evolution of our people that transcends all that has come before it. An outline for the construction of a national foundation so monumental and sovereign, that in the years after our passing monuments will be built in our name. I desire for their inscriptions to read that this nation is the Rus of the Carpathians, the descendants of a civilization that began over a millennium ago. We are the entanglement of Latin and Rus, the border between the steppe of Eastern Europe and Mitteleuropa, between the foothills of the Tatras and Mount Hoverla. Our people will not be lost to history, for we have taken our place as a nation among others.
For now this future remains only possible in words. We cannot embody its spirit nor understand how it would be accomplished. It is not us who create the future, for that is not what the good people of the world do. We are Rusyns after all, eternally imprisoned by a slavish mentality where there is no escape from our fate and no mistake that is not entertained. This is so true of our society today that a fable has taken precedence over reality. It is a story about a new golden age of progress that has long left us so enamored with its fruits that we do not realize that the transition from destitution to poverty does not change the fact that both lead to our demise. We continue in our failure to understand that beyond minor victories of recognition and temporary cultural rejuvenation, there has been a decline of our society stemming from a national revival that has been inarticulate in its explanation of the world and inadequate in its ability to lead. The past thirty years represent not an era of unbound progress, but of wasted potential.
Such claims cannot be taken at face value, and I have no intention to leave the arguments for them absent. To break free from the illusions of the present moment requires analysis of our deficiencies outside their familiar evaluation. We must judge success and failure in comparison to standards set by other nations in Europe. Whether wanted or not, the Rusyn is playing the game of nations and must act like it. A complete dismantlement of falsehoods and errors, particularly those originating from the current intelligentsia, is in order. Their absence will give space for what is to come. The explanation of, and argument for, national evolution will be laid out in its complete form.
Doing so with a people so chronically underachieving will inevitably lead to many conclusions that feel acidic in their lack of leniency. Concerns that develop as a consequence can be left for the historians and propagandists to answer. There is a way to conjure up a narrative of systems and environmental conditions alone that have produced the results of the present, but I refuse to absolve ourselves of agency by doing this. My intention is not to describe history for its own sake, but to reflect on the results of said history so that the path of the future can be altered. At some point when the time to act is near, and those in charge have refused all chances for change, the option to play nice has ceased to exist. On the whole one has either acted competently or not, with the results speaking for themselves. Because I am primarily focused on the last thirty years of our development I have withheld names unless absolutely necessary. To do otherwise when the descriptions of their actions prove sufficient will only serve to detract from the message of this text, and for many there is still time to change. Let the individual make themself an enemy of the future.
To my dismay, many of our oppressors are wiser to the necessity of radical change than our own community. There is concern regarding “Political Rusynism”, or more simply, the efforts at stopping a Rusyn extinction that will only grow from the publication of this work. They worry about our entry into the world of nationhood and abandonment as a politically illiterate minority that can be abused. Entire groups of police and intelligence services are focused on this very issue with great concern. I would know, for my books have already been pulled from shelves and compatriots interrogated. To these folk, and those who claim to be leaders of our nation but reject the necessity of our evolution, I do not require your permission or ask for your acceptance. The evolution of the Rusyn spirit has begun, and it will not be stopped.
II.
Why did I quit my board position at the Carpatho-Rusyn Society and leave the Carpatho-Rusyn Consortium of North America? The answer is simple, it had become clear that neither organization had any interest in taking the necessary steps to ensure the survival of Rusynness in the diaspora, and there was no ability for me to change this.
I was an active member of C-RS from 2020 to 2022, and had served as a committee and board member at various times in this period as the youngest person by over twenty years. It remains the largest Rusyn organization in North America with thousands of members, and I had expected to help contribute to an organization that had been essential to the resurrection of Rusynness in the United States. This mission failed and was perhaps doomed from my very conception of it, because I had misjudged the situation in North America. When I entered into the fray it was well known the glory days of the organization had long passed, but the extent of its decay when looking from the inside was astounding. Ostensibly its purpose was to manifest and preserve Rusyn culture, but in actuality it was closer to an excuse to reminisce about family stories and a time when the diaspora was actually growing. Its leadership consisted of an old guard led by Maryann Sivak, who had no visible ambition to change the organization for the better. Committees were rendered completely useless due to being hamstrung on all levels of operation. Each one was considerable in size, sometimes over ten people for even small operational areas like digital media. Agenda items were often deliberated on for months at a time, with even actions of the most mundane quality necessitating further clearance by filling out a form and some higher-positioned individual’s approval. Unsurprisingly, the total output of the organization was absurdly low during this period.
While this is normal for an aging institution infested with a case of sclerotic bureaucracy, it also illustrates the reality of the diaspora in general. I would come to find that the revival one often hears about now bore little resemblance to its public image. Instead of an evolving community, it has long been a relic of a movement dominated by those who were already approaching middle age by the time the Iron Curtain had collapsed. The basis of activism work for the vast majority of diasporan organizations and clubs is closer to the activity list for a community in the Villages than a living society. On the whole there was (and still is) no youth culture and no effort to attract them. In my time, the total number of people below the age of 30 amounted to no more than a few hundred, of which a large share were effectively categorized under “gift” memberships (I was briefly in charge of memberships at C-RS, which made this number knowable). Of those actually involved, less than ten youth qualify as “intelligentsia” in any particular sense. Close to zero share any familial connection with the older activist generation—instead often the products of becoming interested through personal discovery.
This is not the entirety of the story, however. My time in this disaster covered the end of one particularly incompetent board and the start of another. The new leadership, which I had been asked to be a part of just like the previous one, was headed by the organization’s original founder John Righetti. He was also qualifying as part of the “old-guard” who were Rusyn activists even before the 1990s, but his board was to be filled with members of the Carpatho-Rusyn Consortium of North America. The organization had organized the new roster fit with those in a far younger age bracket and competency level, and had asked me to join in their efforts. Their message was simple: we would undue the decay that had taken over the organization and actually manifest Rusyn culture in the diaspora. One would imagine that if there were to be a reformation then they sounded like the people to usher it in. Due in part to almost no other candidates running, the entire board was elected except for one individual who had forgotten to submit their application in time.
This newly elected board turned out to do little to evolve C-RS into an organization of serious activism. No reorganization on any meaningful scale occurred despite multiple efforts by a select few who advocated for a revamping of the regional membership system and creating a youth wing. The totality of our output over the span of the first year would come to be a handful of poorly created videos recorded long before we had been voted in, rare online genealogy seminars, and a re-energization of its online store selling shirts and candles. It had gone from catastrophe to an older business as usual with the decay of the diaspora continuing in the background. In the time since the organization has further regained a sense of respectability without greatly changing this model. There is now a third new president in four years and most of the oldest board members have been replaced. A restoration has begun on the church headquarters in addition to more irregular meetings on genealogy and various local events. There is even a revamped website with columnists! A stunning turnaround for the largest and greatest Rusyn organization in North America, if only amounting to the same generational ethnic fascination at a more energetic level.
This continuation of past failures, albeit a better job at minimizing the worst of their effects, had not surprised me despite my attempts at denial. I had been a youth member of the consortium and privy to some of its inner workings for over a year by that time. It was not lost on me the political gravity of the group or what it could mean for the diaspora as a whole. The organization has represented the diaspora at the World Congress for many years now, and is made up of almost all of those in North America who have any real influence and power, making them effectively the leadership of the diaspora and as such has its hand in almost every organization within its boundaries. Paul Robert Magocsi had long served as its head; leaders of the Rusin Association, the Lemko Association, and other activists and academics of influence were full-time members. If there was any power left in the community it was not with the retirees bored to death in committee meetings and board arguments, but here. The knowledge of events and various situations across the Rusyn world by the group’s participants was detailed. Major players in our societies were often discussed, and enemies to the Rusyn cause even more so. It was joked by us youth advisors that we had joined some type of secret organization akin to the illuminati. This was somewhat true, to which I had no complaint, for all people are guided by a leading minority. At the same time, what they did with this information and leverage did not hold up to their aura.
What occurred during this period was almost as forgettable as what had happened at C-RS. Despite the impressive nature of the consortium's resume, meetings always held a certain quality akin to a monthly department meeting at a university. There was a persistent need to play within severely limiting ideological guidelines, or what could be called a certain “rulebook” that did not account for the reality of Rusyn society or the actions needed to be taken on the ground. In the views of most of the committee, the way to change the diaspora was to continue broken existing structures with better management and fervor, and for the problems in Europe, a fundamental belief in the EU and its partners to do the work necessary. Perhaps there would need to be nudges along the way, but cooperation and boilerplate activism were to rule above all else. As you might expect Our Vision was not well received. Any discussion of nationalism as a platform, or the introduction of Rusyns themselves into politics as a united force was thoroughly rejected. The time I had been part of the organization amounted to attempts at lobbying on the matter of the Mukachovo Eparchy in Subcarpathia, organizing communications regarding censuses in Europe, collecting emails of Ukrainian parliament members, discussion on EU integration of Ukraine, and book releases.
If just reserved to their official jurisdiction of North America, it should be questioned what was actually accomplished aside from putting C-RS back on life support. One could attempt to make the case that perhaps things were going on behind the scenes that I had no knowledge of, and that the pandemic could have interfered, but then where are the results now? Unless you wish to use the Studium (an event already going on for many years) or more releases by the Carpatho-Rusyn Research Center that tell a tale of victory, you will find almost nothing of note from then to the present day in North America. If the internal meetings do not show it, and the public results are absent, it does not exist. Now some of this crowd have their hands in funding projects like the impressive Otsyuznyny magazine in Subcarpathia, but true to their doctrine, they remain only in the vector of culture.
None of what has been described sounds particularly horrible. If anything, it should be more properly described as forgettable on nearly every level. To me however, this is precisely the issue. The organizations that I have criticized here are part of an ideological project unwilling to confront the decay of our society and the reasons why this has occurred. This is a group of people that do not value independent Rusyn political thought to the extent that they cannot uphold our interests when it matters most. Continuing as we have in North America means eventual extinction as a minority. The history of a diaspora who helped decide the fate of Rusynia after the Great War and who were instrumental in bringing new ideas and culture back to the homeland both before the great wars and after the collapse of communism reaches its final chapter. This legacy is real even if mummified underneath layers of assimilation, and is the prism through which I look. Either we truly value to be Rusyn and bear the responsibility of this legacy, like our Galician neighbors who ensure their youth in the Americas remain Ukrainian and connected to their homeland, or allow this legacy to finally die.
My denial regarding the impossibility of the situation gave way when after months of being strung along as a near-certain candidate for the CRRC workshop in Toronto, I became the sole notable young diasporan to be rejected. When the Consortium sent a letter scolding the wording of the World Congress’ condemnation of the Russo-Ukraine war, which included a line referring to the fact that Rusyns are not recognized and should be, making it seem like stating the reality Rusyn oppression is an unneeded antagonism, I knew I was done with them. Electing a professor employed by the American military and married to a Ukrainian journalist to represent the diaspora solidified this position after the fact. With a level of ineptitude and an ideology so significantly different from my own, there was no point in attempting to influence things from within.
In the aftermath of my resignation, when I crossed the Atlantic and met with Rusyns in Slovakia, Hungary, and Subcarpathian Rus, similar patterns became apparent. These regions were far from exact copies of each other, yet a story of revival enmeshed with stagnation was pervasive. It was not just the diaspora but the nation as a whole. From these experiences my idea to describe this phenomenon, and its possible solution, was born.
III.
But when, after the fall of Austro-Hungary, the leaders of other nationalities in this multinational state already knew what they wanted, already had worked out programs with their national organizations and knew everything about their own people, our people during the course of a long bondage had been deprived of its leaders who had crossed over to the camp of the ruling nations. And, when the time came to step out in the name of the Carpatho-Russian people, those who wanted to lead did not know whom to guide, did not know what country, what land, what people they were supposed to champion.
—Simeon Pyzh
Our recent history has been intertwined with the narrative of revival for so long that we rarely question its validity. It is a story that begins with the hope that the governments which had attempted to erase Rusynness for half a century would fall, and from their ashes would be a new era of peace and recognition. This was proven to have a foundation, for when the Iron Curtain collapsed it was as if a dam had ruptured. Cultural institutions, music groups, festivals, and individuals themselves openly re-orientated toward their true identity by the thousands. Most importantly, organizations arose in every region to form a new movement that aimed to tackle a fundamental dilemma: what are we to do now?
Was our purpose to develop the attributes of nationality; to recreate the culture of old and expand upon it; to fight for the rights we so desperately needed? There were no politicians, political parties or governments that represented Rusyn interests. The repression of the Decades of Silence had long dissolved all institutional traditions of governance and knowledge that would have helped formulate a coherent response. One could now be openly Rusyn, but even this still retained a feeling of radicality. At the same time, the situation allowed for what seemed like an opportunity of almost limitless potential to choose a new national course.
The people who were to decide the future were to be the activists, clergymen, and academics who had begun in secret to breathe life into Rusynness in the years before the collapse. Their philosophy was formed in allegiance to the new cultural energy of the post-Cold War era. Liberal democracy hand-in-hand with the globalization of the world was on the table, and the values that represented it became those to aspire to. As stated in a defining letter written and signed in Medzilaborce in 1991 by representatives of the Rusyn communities “Freedom and democracy have become the basis of the political and social life of Eastern Europe and have provided an opportunity for self-determination and a worthy life for our people who live in the East Carpathian region and in other countries of the world.” What this meant in practice was something that would have surprised our predecessors. Politically, the formation of a state was inconceivable to this new group, and there was no real belief that it would ever be possible. Even at the opening of the most unifying international political institution in Rusyn history in the World Congress, only a single speaker out of dozens even mentioned any ambition for political power1. Professor Magocsi, a man considered one of the great (if not the greatest) revivalists, provides an illumination of the event and following years in his memoir.
To my mind, the most impressive speech at the First Congress was delivered by Natalia Dudash. This small-statured poet was from the Vojvodina region in Yugoslavia and, therefore, delivered her remarks in what was the only form of the Rusyn language officially recognized by any state in the post-World War II Communist era Vojvodinian-Bachka Rusyn. In measured, thoughtful cadences Dudash inspired Carpatho-Rusyns in other countries to follow the example of her small diasporan group who successfully created a standard literary language taught in a school system from elementary to university level. Education, not political activity, was the only means to guarantee the future survival of Carpatho-Rusyns as a distinct people.
Dudash's words touched on two phenomena that were to characterize what I began to call “the third Carpatho-Rusyn national revival.” One of those phenomena concerned a strategic matter: how best to secure the success of the national movement. Should this be done through political or cultural activity? In other words, should Carpatho-Rusyns press for some kind of autonomy in the countries where they live, after which rights like Rusyn-language education, funding for cultural and civic organizations, and recognition as a distinct nationality would all flow? Or, should the emphasis be first on cultural and educational activity, in order to create a significant number of conscious Carpatho-Rusyns who, through existing political channels, would be able to achieve cultural and perhaps political autonomy in the various states where they lived?
FROM NOWHERE TO SOMEWHERE — The Carpatho-Rusyn Movement, pg. 129-130
Paul Robert Magocsi
The answer from the perspective of this new international intelligentsia eventually became clear along three central pillars: to raise the national consciousness of the Rusyn people through education and activism, to be recognized as a unique nation in every country in which they resided, and to fight for their civil rights as an ethnic minority. In other words, a turn toward the cultural option. There would be a need for activism and political negotiation within the institutional framework of the newly-democratic governments of Eastern Europe in coordination with the established West, but no matter the action taken, it would be held within certain boundaries. There would be no alliance with Russia or any other nation in an attempt to gain political power. More importantly, there would be no attempt at the creation of a state or an autonomous region outside a collection of outspoken activists from Subcarpathian Rus. One could phrase it as an unspoken strategy of minority “respectability”. It was a philosophy so believing in the future of this new world, that it held with certainty that even Ukraine would eventually fall to the influence of western values.
In light of three decades of evidence, it is difficult to deny that the world of today bears the successes of this movement. By the late 2000s, the Rusyn people had been recognized as a distinct nation in all but one country in Europe. The total population of self-identifying Rusyns has increased in every new census of every main country they inhabit, and national funding in multiple regions has been allocated to help organizations dedicated to the preservation of culture. In other words, a future secured in the form of being a stateless minority with all the rights of identity and cultural expression that had been once confiscated, and the resources to maintain their way of life through transfers of capital from the state. From the depths of despair there has been a transformation unthinkable only decades earlier. And understandably, from this process a story of a successful revival and ever-growing Rusyn nation emerged as historical doctrine.
But is this story complete? The above statements regarding our progress are true in the sense of stated facts, but their real value rests in combination with what is often hidden from the public conversation and in comparison with those who went off a different path. If we look at the dire situation in the unfree land of Subcarpathia we might conclude such a foundation for a Rusyn movement was a sound idea. Volodymyr Fedynysynec, a leading representative from The Society of Carpatho-Rusyns stated plainly in a 1990 interview with Smena na nedel’u that “We are for the autonomy of Subcarpathian Rus’. Striving for autonomy ought to be the first step, and in time we could become an independent Slavic state—with the understanding that we would be good neighbors to Slovaks, Ukrainians, and Poles.” Of course as we can see with our own eyes, this has not come to fruition. Despite over thirty years of attempts to promote Rusynness, this territory has retained the status of holding the worst ethnopolitical disaster of the homeland. Hundreds of thousands live in Rusyn culture every day, and at the same time Rusynism has languished. The single greatest political success that can be awarded to Pryashivians and Lemkos in their national recognition cannot be done so here. In fact, since 1991 there has been effectively no political progress made that did not eventually become invalidated.
Over the years we have often heard instead of the drama created by various cliques that ultimately means little in consequence. These are generally not conflicts equal in magnitude to the struggles between Bolshevisks and Mensheviks, but rather factions bickering over local drama that is of little concern to anyone. If accounts (and our own eyes) are to be taken seriously, those of a type of hardened soviet-folk persona who boasted much about their plans with no means to achieve them, and who led organizations built on bullying rivals and gaining local power, have historically dominated the activist landscape. While some of this type remain, things have begun to change in a re-alignment closer to the revivalists in western regions. Nevertheless, should you ask the activists of today, you will see that while they are different, not a single group has any discernible program regarding even the recognition of Rusyns. The majority of their organizations, regardless of their true desires, act as cultural outlets or platforms for power plays for personal prestige. Even the best individuals have retreated to the realm of entertainment in the form of video content and magazine articles.
They are not helped by the fact that after the Euromaidan—a “velvet” revolution—the country is now led by a political class more opposed to Rusyn recognition than any of the post-soviet administrations that came before. They understand better than our own that irrespective of advances in democracy and freedom of speech, of the rule of law and respect for minorities, the Rusyn people must be regarded as without legitimacy as an independent nation if Ukraine is to remain in its present form. Constant surveillance extended against activists across the region has now created an environment of panic with hushed rumors of certain individuals being informants and plants swirling. For native activists, their experiences with the state involving outright intimidation or “chats” at a local shop serve as a reminder that they are always watched. And in war, a more sinister version appeared with those too ambitious in their advocacy being threatened with mobilization to the front.
Those engaged in Rusyn activism over the past thirty years have not held back their theories for this disaster, and would likely attempt to distance a great many actions of Subcarpathians from their “revival” if given a chance. An amalgamation of their views would likely follow along the lines that Subcarpathians should not have strayed from the emerging orthodoxy of Rusyn revivalism by calling for a referendum on autonomy or attempting to capture political power early on. Furthermore, their approach to the development of activist organizations was poor, and their selection of leaders worse. Even if it weren’t, the situation was an impossible task because they did not have the support of the greater public. All of these things can be said in confidence, because after all, look and see that the most prosperous Rusyn communities are those which have embraced this philosophy of political rejection the most.
On the surface things might be looking good for our leading philosophers and their predictions. Parts of this conclusion are certainly true, but to agree wholeheartedly would mean that one is willfully blind to the complete reality of the situation. How can we forget the belief of a democratic Ukraine being a positive for our people, as so many prominent activists and writers of this ilk predicted, has been discredited by the actions of Kiev over the past decade? Whether some mythical induction into the European Union a decade from now changes this, the supposed integration of western values and institutions has certainly not brought us closer to peaceful coexistence. Furthermore, arguably now more than any other time in modern Subcarpathian history the activists of this era are more aligned with their western counterparts, yet where is the plan or progress on the most basic goals that even other regions desired to achieve? It seems as if the “political” path has failed, and the “cultural” path is absent of any direction at all.
The story of Subcarpathia will be returned to soon enough, but if we wish to truly challenge the ideological regime of our era we would be best served by attacking it at its strongest—where its principles are not just followed but engraved as untouchable truths. This provides a wealth to work with in our case, because Western Carpathian Rus and the diaspora are a showcase in the fundamental inadequacy of the movement as a whole. For a people so geopolitically disadvantaged and depleted by decades of oppression this bargain for political rejection has brought great stability. But if you mold yourself into the role of the orphaned puppy in the hope of being tossed a treat, you may get what you desire while also having your body and soul atrophy in the process. A class of leaders do not develop because there are no positions to fill except in powerless organizations mired in incompetency. The society, which has no ability to regulate or advance its economic status, is vulnerable to great upheavals like those caused by the privatization and reforms of the last thirty years without any tools to manage their response. Politically, they become completely helpless to the whims of an ethnically foreign elite, who would often like nothing better than to assimilate them. The most productive members, having nothing to do within a homeland that has not attempted to remake itself, leave for ethnically foreign cities where the most prestigious jobs are located. The language of the people without any institutionalized basis for its existence may be codified, but continues to be hampered as a rural land low status artifact compared to the state language. As this process occurs the division between the outsider and insider are broken down, this nation’s identity becomes nothing more than a regional folk variation frozen in a position of the antique. Its intelligentsia, if not viewed with hostility by the state, is a fraction of the larger national substrate.
These are not words of opinion on my part, but descriptions of our most “vibrant” communities. Across the national region of Pryashiv the theme is not one of growth, but decline. In its countryside lay towns dying through depopulation and deindustrialization that has not stopped since the end of the Communist era. The opening of Rusyn schools and in effect the growth of Rusynized education has effectively ended at the same time the community itself has contracted. This can be seen most clearly in the census, which provided a type of fool's gold. While the number of total Rusyns increased, those of first identity shrank, and the decrease in native speakers was as depressing of a decline (from 55,469 to 38,679 in a single decade). Worse still, what response there has been to these trends is formed on the basis of reactionary immobility where activists propose cultural projects without ambition to change the root of their predicament. The matured cultural institutions that are supposed to uphold this community continue to grow older in their leadership and have become unambitious in their agenda to the point that autonomy or the creation of a Rusyn city to rival regional equivalents are unconscionable ideas. Organizations dedicated to the young like Molody Rusyny have relegated themselves to the invisible hand of fate as they aim merely to instill Rusynness in kids in Slovak cities who will never move back to the homeland.
The inadequate response to the above is not only the result of individual incompetent components, but rather the resulting effects of an environment that has helped to eliminate the possibility of committing to any serious activism. The structures of support by an independent set of organizations and actors needed to counteract the dire situation now facing Pryashivians are nowhere to be found. In the most free Rusyn society on the European continent, there are no political parties, no major corporations, and in reality, no real modernized economy within the boundaries of this society. For years Pryashivians have instead leaned on organizations propped up by funds that have flowed from the central government to minority groups. Even the first World Congress was funded through the Slovak Ministry of Culture and discretionary funds from the Czech government in Prague (if you had any questions on the external influence behind this event). As a result the structures of organized Rusynness have calcified primarily on this basis, and with it their expectations set out by the conditions of the aid they receive.
The Fund for the Support of Minority Culture in Slovakia has consistently averaged in the range of a few million euros in total allowance, only passing 8 million by the end of 2020. Throughout the 2010s Rusyns received on average only around 7% of the total of distributed funds2. With some rough calculations, we get a total—likely on the higher end—amount to 560,000 euros per year. If we added in another 400,000 to be charitable of other potential sources, a single million euros is still so horribly insufficient that while being enough to sustain a small class of cultural activists, to only have this amount means in reality there can be no real network of institutions that function at the institutional level. Who sets the rules of what is acceptable is obvious, and if this has not been used in an outwardly corrupt way, then at least the structure of power still remains. One would be extraordinarily naive to expect that if members of this class began asking necessary political questions or god forbid taking up greater aims like autonomy, that the money would continue to flow.
For our Lemkos in Poland we reach a similar conclusion. They have assuredly succeeded in being recognized, their festivals, dance groups, and organizations—sometimes—funded, but what has this provided them if not a short term band-aid? Their community, as it was in their awakening under the fire of the vatras that began in the 1984 under the direction of “urban intellectuals”3 to promote Lemko identity, remain predominantly scattered in the western regions of Poland where they had been resettled eighty years before. Their organizations rightfully advocate for the return of ancestral lands to their rightful owners, but have created no programs to return or found a self-governing Lemkovyna. The onus has been put on the back of a Polish government that remains hostile to reversing (or investigating) its acts of ethnic cleansing4. Even after multiple legal rejections by the state this has not radicalized the population or their leadership. On this alone they have fundamentally failed at the most vital task of creating a homeland for their continued existence. There is not one village constructed on the basis of strategic recolonization by revivalists, or even an organization actively pursuing these ends.
National work in the Lemko context has been reserved only to the domain of actions similarly found in the diaspora and Pryashiv. Progress represents the delayed extinction of a minority removed from their homeland and surrounded by a foreign majority. Even this I feel has a certain suspect quality. On the whole fewer members of their youth understand Rusyn and fewer still are involved in activism. There might not even be enough to fit into a professional concert hall. While the estimated total of Lemkos numbered around 100,000, in the 2021 census only 13,607 declared themselves as Lemko. Of this total amount, 5,149 also declared themselves as Poles. It is a minor increase from the 11,000 total in 2011, but does not look especially convincing as a sign of progress when you consider that over the course of a decade the total self-identifying portion of the Lemko population only rose from 11% to 13.5%. All of this is without mention of their struggle with the Ukrainophiles, who represent a significant percentage of the population in comparison to Pryashiv, and are a persistent threat against the legitimacy of Rusynness as shown by their takeover of various cultural events like the vatra in Zdynia and the establishment of their own institutions. The influx of Ukrainian refugees has the potential to further endanger this already precarious situation. We are but background noise when compared to the hundreds of thousands who crossed the border.
So, dear reader, does it seem like we have achieved actual respect in this bargain? Is our place on the European continent actually secure for the foreseeable future and our nation still growing? I believe that while we find signs of success in this era, their essence is of a very temporary nature. Almost everywhere one looks they will rather find recent evidence of contraction. I feel a sense of trepidation in making this statement. This story of progress—no matter how erroneous today—has helped sustain our society. Current institutions were founded by this movement, and their membership enthralled by this story of rebirth. It had been them that brought back their ancestors' heritage from the edge of extinction! In a way this has galvanized the belief in the very conception of Rusynness, and the belief in our survival. To acknowledge the totality of their failure despite this, and make clear their abandonment of the core principles of nationality, risks undermining the very foundation of the most revolutionizing movement in our lifetime. It is not clear to me that we would survive in our current form if this discrepancy between fiction and truth became widely understood. The narrative of rebirth in comparison to the actual reality needn’t even be the result of purposeful obfuscation. One only needs to not acknowledge new realities, not create falsehoods for the story to continue. In other words, it may be a lie in 2024, but in 2004 where most still ideologically reside, it was not exactly clear what would occur.
The reality, nevertheless, is that we cannot remain in our current form. It is obviously not equipped to deal with the challenges ahead (otherwise this text would not exist). March on, regardless of the consequences, we must. I cannot help but ponder on the deeper reasons for this outcome, or in the question of agency by those who created it. The most obvious answer in blaming westernization, or the values of liberalism that arose in Eastern Europe in the 1980s, cannot be exactly accurate. The Baltics, Czechoslovakia, Poland, and the rest of the Iron Curtain republics were inspired by the ideas of self-determination and popular sovereignty that underlined the central political questions of post-communist region. When the opportunity arose they fully committed themselves to these ends. Despite having been inspired in much the same way, and having lived through half a century of state-sponsored extermination, we mysteriously did not have similar fortitude. The idea of Lemkovyna was reawakened for public view, with no radical efforts to create it. A World Congress was created, only to be retained for the appearance of political importance. Even for the Subcarpathians a referendum occurred, but nothing was done to enforce it. And now the successors of this earlier generation do not ask for state nor autonomous status—they do not even openly dream it. Who currently invokes the names of those buried beneath Graz airport in their political manifestos? Where are the impassioned calls from descendants of the ethnocide, urging a return to Lemkovyna? What leading organization or leader champions the political doctrines of our ancestors beyond a rhetorical nod to "Ja Rusyn Byl"? For the Rusyn world, the thought itself has become a cultural taboo. It is not us who have strived for power, but to be the ones who asked for change from those that have it.
It should not be ignored that this happens to be a welcoming reality for the academics and institutionally-aligned activists that have played an enormous role over the last three decades. For academics, the positions and funding of departments and research—not to mention the prestige value to boost their careers—would have been even more limited than they already are if the people they chose to represent were seen as anti-establishment actors. In the case of the activist who receives either prestige or salary from these government funded organizations of ours, there is no future career for one who represents ideals that go against the status quo. We should not be surprised that some of the most ardent advocates are those most integrated into these professional structures. The tragedy here is rather that they represent the most experienced and knowledgeable among us. These people more than anyone else understand the trials and tribulations that make up Rusyn history. And in the end, they chose to interpret this history and plot the course for the future in a way that has led us to this point.
To say all opposition to this revivalist era has failed gives too much to the idea that there was even the possibility of it occurring. Our leaders have not impeded a burgeoning wave of revolutionary nationalism, nor are the masses clamoring for such a transformation and what it would entail. They in fact do well at personifying the temperament of a society that exalts a folkish view of itself that is utterly devoid of ambition. Think of the phrase “a people from nowhere” that has taken hold of the public zeitgeist. Putting aside efforts to promote this idea and its particular fascination by the diaspora, there is a certain symbolism that touches our society. Our music is dominated by folk bands; our most popular figures of the era are not political leaders, but historians and artists; our central mode of cultural gathering—the vatra and zabava. Even our least superficial activism, upon closer inspection, reveals a political doctrine that aspires merely to the absence of oppression, not the construction of a future. Underneath the mask of post-communist liberalism is a regime of tradition that is pre-national in character.
Here the real difficulty of the situation becomes ever more apparent. Our story is not merely the rejection of—necessary—political goals or the embedded stasis obligations of academics and activists. It is not the uselessness of Subcarpathian activism spanning three decades. It is not even a question of the current role of Ukraine, the European Union, or any foreign entity in shaping our situation. These factors, while real in their weight, are symptoms of a deeper issue. What must be confronted is that our overall condition derives from the failure of Rusynism itself. It has been a tradition of mediocrity that by any objective measure and without almost any exception—political, cultural, philosophical—has never been fully realized within ourselves in either definitional terms or material results. The third Carpatho-Rusyn “revival” is rather the third attempt.
Consider Dukhnovych and the generations of awakeners after him, who, despite great insight into the politics of their day, could neither forge a sovereign nation nor even solidify the idea of a political Rusynness. While Galicia succumbed to the populist Ukrainians within only a few decades, our homeland was quietly devoured village by village, by the surrounding nations of Central Europe. In what could have been our ultimate moment as it was for so many others in the dissolution of Austria-Hungary, the people of Carpathian Rus were not prepared to formulate a united attempt at the creation of a state. The nations of Mitteleuropa, the Czechoslovaks, Romanians, Croats, Poles, all saw independence with one exception. Our consolation prize in the south was a Czechoslovak government that lied and stalled our ability for self-governance while allowing thousands of Ukrainians to flee into the autonomous province that had been promised by the powers of Europe. In the north, the integration of Rusyn lands into the Polish Republic after the destruction of the doomed Lemko Republic marked the end of our attempted autonomy.
Years of ineffective political efforts and failed movements then gave way to the Decades of Silence, a period so total in its repression that it severed the thread of continuity between past and future. Our leaders were executed and our churches purged. Generations of people, and those who would have been our great nationalists and thinkers were assimilated into nations of higher quality under the guises of national unity and avoidance of economic destitution. It was a near complete annihilation of any greater potential that remained. A fraction of us have found our way back through sheer determination, but what remains of our nation is by-and-large the most destitute and provincial.
If we are honest with ourselves then we must admit that these greater aims of autonomy, of leadership and institutional power, are out of reach for the Rusynia of today. A society so traumatically besieged and lacking in all manner of things cannot be reasonably expected to achieve anything more than they have. If nothing else, the revivalists grasped this when others did not—saw the limits of our people most clearly and did their best to maneuver under the present conditions. And yet they did not understand the most important truth that this is not enough. It was they who should have answered the call of nationalism if society could not; they who were supposed to attempt our realization even against all odds. Instead, these new leaders became the caretakers of the museum for a lost future.
We can choose to act in the same rational manner as those who have been criticized in this text. We can even frame this abdication of responsibility as a moral virtue as they have done. But this means more than simply “accepting reality”, for it is the acceptance of perpetual mediocrity and a future demise. War has again come to the edge of the continent at the same time economic and social crises continue to ravage nations already hobbled by declining economies and populations. The battle cries of nationalists seen around the world ring out in the rejection of the global world order. This is to say nothing of the Ukrainian problem which represents an constantly increasing existential challenge to Subcarpathia and the Rusyn people as whole. I can see no other conclusion than that the music of the most peaceful decades of Rusyn history has begun its descent into deafening silence. If it had not changed then the future was to be a slow extinction in the passing of this museum’s final caretakers. Now we are soon to lose the safeguards that provided this option and live at the mercy of the tides of history.
Within this conclusion of despair is hope for Carpathian Rusynia. There is another way in which our story—and future—can be read. Despite all the ills of the past thirty years, the tradition of mediocrity, the traumas our people have endured, a flame has held an ever-lingering heat. It was not from any intellectual text or battle won, but in the native feeling of a people that they are different. The Ukrainian ideology was state mandated, and it did not fully win. Our intellectuals were murdered and discarded, and we still survive. And at the first sight of freedom this feeling was expressed in the energy of dance and song, and continues in the rejection by thousands of any ruling identity. Is it possible that the underlying components of nationality remain in the state of potentiality, waiting to be harnessed by those who understand that the dream of realization has not yet become stillborn? I can think of no more noble aim for a Rusyn than finding out this answer. The few among the many who understand the seriousness of our situation are assigned a particular responsibility. It is us who hold in our hands the possibility of a better tomorrow.
IV.
Through both necessity and principle we are forced to go beyond the mere rejection of the status quo and commit to the evolution of our society. We require a project of national ambition based on the notion that the Rusyn people are worthy of their own future, and that they should endeavor for it to be of greatness in virtue, culture, and power in a lasting civilizational form. What this civilization will ultimately become can only be decided through the actions of those who believe in its possibility, but for them there is a vision of the future to guide their way where the struggles of today are a fading memory. From the foothills of the Tatras to the peak of Hoverla can live a nation that has for the first time developed itself on its own terms. A society where schools and universities are conducted in the people’s native tongue and artists the creators of works rivaling anything in Europe. A place where shepherds sing in the highlands as great towers of steel and stone rise in valleys revitalized under the watchful stewardship of true leadership.
Imagine a founding call for a Carpathian Rus that has been answered with tens of thousands rushing into a land now full with those of different dialects and origins, yet all sharing the blood of a single nation. Never again will there be a question of a Rusyn extinction. The haunted silence of Lemkovyna echoes no more. Instead, the sounds of children and bells from churches rebuilt fill the air. There has been a homecoming. In the Western Settler Lands the dead traditions of the past have returned in triumphant roar. Now there are dozens of communities amongst the vineyards that carry the name of their ancestors with pride. And of Subcarpathia, the oppression of a million Rusyns has met its end. Finally, those of this region have taken their place as the leaders of this new Rusyn world. Great monuments to martyrs and heroes lay about its grounds as a reminder of what was sacrificed. In Pryashiv, the birthplace of the budytel, the pinnacle of our academia flourishes cities alongside villages that have been given new cultural life. Even faith has found harmony in the creation of a Rusyn church that has healed the rift between Greek Catholic and Orthodox that began under the decree of foreign overlords. From the foothills of the Tatras to the peak of Hoverla there is a united people.
The wounds from centuries of misery have begun to heal, and their strength has become unbound. No longer can those who live here be called the people from nowhere. To others, and to themselves, this nation is now the Rus of the Carpathians, the descendants of a civilization that began over a millennium ago. They are the entanglement of the Latin and Rus at the border between the steppe of Eastern Europe and Mitteleuropa. They have taken their place as a nation amongst others.
The realization of the possibility for this vision will require the conceptual willingness to create a national ethos that rejects the desire for stagnant regionalism and the suffocating grip of the antiquated past. We must speak of the unspoken reality that a great list of cultural, institutional, and political differences that have arisen between communities of Rusyns split by once new borders are not a reservoir of strength, but the symptoms of devolving weakness. Take our inability to form a singular standard as an example. A unified creation of this sort binds all people to the idea of the nation through language. It is as much a subliminal political statement as a way for communication, and is a component of all major countries of Europe today. Instead of achieving this for ourselves however, each group’s dialects have diverged and been over time to the point where unification feels increasingly unlikely.
In one sense it is symbolic of the failure to become a fully realized nation. Indeed, a lack of borders and areas for professional use, but also in the grave mistake of our predecessors to have been so focused on not using the local language in favor of an imperial standard. In another, errors of a different sort in the revivalist era are more visibly present. The regional standards manufactured over the past decades ostensibly used as stepping stones have often ended up to be more like the final stop of the journey. Most writers and activists have become fine with using the assigned regional version and have little interest in bridging the gap between the major dialects. One can sense this reality applies to more than just language even if this is one of the most visible examples. Organizations have similarly remained being split by country, and activists with the rare exception self-relegated to their small plot of villages within a single region. In effect, the Rusyn problem has been contained to the level of regionality. The people of each region may have their own cultural dominion, but its totality is effectively provincial.
These comments are obviously not observations for a work of ethnography. I do not frame the current state of affairs as a monument needed to be maintained in a museum. If we desire a better future then our purpose is to create and not merely observe. The Rusyn nation does not fully exist. It therefore cannot be treated to the choice of stagnant permanence like the Pyramid of Giza. We are taking a foundation and building upon it to create a living tower in its name. What man would scorn the creation of a wonder on top of stones when it towers above him reaching to the sky? One must commit to establishing these traits or forgo the idea of a united nation altogether. In the act of establishing a Karpato-Rusynist society, let us meld all the regions with their unique features so that each and every one of them has something that has been contributed and sacrificed. Have the tales of Lemkovyna spread to Subcarpathia and the history of Subcarpathia’s oppression be an integral part of the national narrative to the Rusyns of Pryashiv. The intermingling of lineages and institutions in the creation of a Pan-Rusyn generation should be exalted—the establishment of international leaders seen as the progress of national evolution.
Now, you see, the path to realize the destiny of something comes not only in the acceptance of new ideas, but in the ability to force their conclusions into reality. The evolution of Rusyn society into the vision of Karpato-Rusynism would mean embarking on something closer to the creation of a nation than its reformation. We would need to create new governing institutions, construct and finance political parties, and develop new educational and cultural alternatives that alone would demand a figure in the tens of millions and involve a level of individual competency far above the usual standard set by our current elite. In Subcarpathian Rus these efforts would be formed on the basis of attempting to acquire national recognition and the establishment of an autonomous republic. For the western regions, similar actions would be called for. In Slovakia, the consolidation of the towns and villages in the Northeast of the Presov region into its own autonomous political unit. In Poland, the purchase of land and subsidization of new settlements in the Carpathians so that a sovereign Nova Lemkovyna could one day be established.
The attempted achievement of these things, and the fact that we even desire them at all, will be an unmistakable affront to those with power and institutional legitimacy. As any experienced activist will tell you, to change our institutions from within is already near impossible. Criticism inevitably pits one against hostile elites whose status derives from the ability to hold their positions of influence and the same temperament that created them. They will understand that we represent a repudiation of what they stand for, and that is obviously our intent. They will be hostile and work together despite their general ineptitude, to ensure that we never attain legitimacy. At the same time, so many are the product of this environment of weakness, and have proved themselves to be so utterly incompetent and docile in the face of the most minor of opposition. Fewer still have the stomach for what is to come.
They are, of course, only half of the issue. The West and the countries in which these steps would occur represent a grander obstacle. Permanent structural changes of this magnitude cannot be swept under the rug, nor can even affairs internal to our society be kept secret for long. There is a chance that progress can be made on these fronts if not in outward cooperation, then in acts of peaceful understanding from the states we reside in. I do not mean becoming the benefactors of further groveling. Rather, recognition and tacit approval of the ambition for a new Rusyn nation. It is true after all that each one of our neighbors have experienced their own similar traumas with which they can relate. Our aims are not a serious infringement on their sovereignty. We do not demand for lands from the core of these states. It should not matter that a minor people native to mountains rich in neither resources nor wealth have autonomy over their domain. Slav or Nordic, German or Latin, all peoples on this continent remain tied to a European civilization that should not spill more of its peoples’ blood if it does not have to. Is this not part of the philosophy of European values we so often hear of? If there could be a Carpathian Rusyn nation as a free and autonomous part of this world without any conflict to create it then let this wondrous possibility come true.
I am also not foolish enough to ignore the brutality that history has recorded. It is all but certain that we will be confronted by international actors and state apparatuses that dwarf whatever is available to us; groups who will not be pleased that we must stand strong in the face of. Perhaps, just as in the case of Poland with its refusal to give back the land of Lemkovyna to its rightful owners, our attempts at political progress will be rebuffed at every turn to the point where we must travel underground. It is possible if we do not back down in our vision for the entirety of Carpathian Rus that our advocacy will be marketed by our enemies as a further encroachment of the Russian world upon the West. A claim whether proven true or untrue does not matter. On the fields of Thalerhof these nations proved themselves willing to deliver a judgment with little evidence and maximum cruelty. And of Ukraine, a corrupt shell of a state plundered by its elites and which offers neither prosperity nor democracy nor freedom, they are certain to continue for now to label the idea of Rusynness a separatist fantasy.
In this likelier scenario where violent suppression is greater than a topic of peripheral concern, Karpato-Rusynism will be in a far more difficult and precarious position. Do we accept the change we will bring to Europe, to ourselves, and the unexpected ways we will alter the future? Do we really mean it when we say a new era for the patriotic soul has begun? It is easy to say yes before the first night one encounters a knock on the door or the cold cement of a jail cell. Showing the truth to the people, the horrors that their countrymen experienced in the past, the pernicious subjugation still present, the possibility of a better future—these all also contain their own societal costs and challenges. While the mandate of heaven has begun to fall for those who lead, this does not symbolize an automatic turn toward our answer. The dismal state of our national consciousness, which has evolved over decades of attempted assimilation and socio-economic conditions, makes the society of the present moment incompatible with a Karpato-Rusynist future. If there is to be any chance for the future we desire, the ideology and leaders of today must be rendered irrelevant so that new structures fit enough for the tasks ahead can emerge.
To champion this vision along a successful path under these conditions would be a great feat. I feel that the troubling question of how will become the primary concern of Karpato-Rusynists throughout the entire Rusyn world. An exact answer cannot exist without trial and error. Today we live as historical outsiders clear from the foundations of national prosperity and without any tested political doctrine or experience. What is all but certain however, is that our route to it is through the creation of a new socio-political reality by those who understand the need for the vision of Karpato-Rusynism, and have the inclination to fight against all odds, all barriers, all enemies, even if it necessitates the deprivation of their life. I do not mean a movement tied by vague ideals, but the integration of a new and centralized faction of the nation, with its members a coordinated vanguard of activists, benefactors, industrialists, politicians, intellectuals, educators, clergymen, and colonists that act as the vessel through which the first era of sovereign Rusynness is born.
Having this core of individuals is fundamental to the majority of the revolutionizing events in every society that has ever existed. They are by and large, the product not of a mass movement from the people, but more specifically their elites. The American Revolution was not the spontaneous uprising of a disjointed mass but the result of action by the local elite of the colonies, who articulated and pursued a coherent vision of independence for the patriots against the royalists. The Jewish settlers (and their funders) who arrived in Palestine under the banner of Zionism were amongst the most devoted to the concept of the Jewish state, and through them and their offspring Israel was born. It is not the average person who takes that leap of faith when nobody else sees its possibility of change, and it will not be them who are the first to fund and settle the villages of Nova Lemkovyna or march for the sovereignty of Carpathian Rus.
For the larger countries of Europe whose populations range in the tens of millions and their institutions given immense power, the requisite total for a group of this type might amount to a number in the thousands for an effective takeover of government institutions, media, and other critical sectors. For us, a much smaller amount in the hundreds would be enough to create an equivalent scenario. To those who doubt the feasibility of even this number, think first of our population today. It is true the nationalized of Rusynia may be meager in appearance, however it still remains in excess of 100,000 individuals that represent a number from which a non-insignificant number of new vanguardists can be drawn from. This also means that the vast majority of our ethnic kin remain untouched by the stagnation and indoctrination that has fossilized our present society. A mass of up to a million Rusyns in Subcarpathia have remained unawakened to their true nationality. Unleashing this potential even moderately will revolutionize the socio-political landscape. In Western Carpathian Rus and the Americas there is also great potential. 160,000 Greek Catholics live in Hungary, 270,000 of Eastern Christian faith in Slovakia, an estimated 100,000 Lemkos in Poland, and 500,000 diasporans, the majority of all these groups made up of the under nationalized or assimilated. Consider the transformative impact if even one-tenth of this total embraced their Rusyn identity—over 100,000 new individuals, and a hundredth of them serious enough to be considered key members, 1,000, to lead the charge. Through this single avenue alone the flow of the river of life can stream back in the direction of our people and from them at least hundreds, if not thousands, can be cultivated for the endeavors of the nation.
But, you may justifiably ask, how do we corral such individuals like this into a vanguard structure, and what should be done with it to reach our end goals? Imagine for a moment that we hold at least the sufficient will for the possibility of its construction. This assumption, while optimistic given the current state of our people, is a necessary starting point. However, even if this were the case we aren’t close to reaching across the finish line. The questions of how to build this vanguard's hierarchy, its structure in relation to Rusyn society, its general strategy, are some of many more unanswered questions. The financial requirements of sustaining this new division of society are additionally massive in their weight and without a clear solution or foundation. It is a regrettable truth that we are so totally lacking when put next to even the most dysfunctional group of government apparatchiks that it is not worth the time of comparison.
The generic path away from this pitiful state follows the transformation from the initial domain of intellectual circles, political parties, and private societies that dissidents inevitably gravitate toward, and into the role of the establishment. Total victory is ideologically achieved when our principles also undergo the transformation from perceived radicalism to the baseline of societal discourse. Yet these statements say little regarding the specificities of our situation. We are further hampered by the fact that while much remains to be said, only so much can be elaborated on here. Should the full analysis of the unique financial requirements and political avenues for a movement such as ours really be published in a public document of this type, for example, if it is inevitable that this work will be held in the hands of those it was not intended for?
What can be discussed follows again from the observation that a group capable of achieving the vision of Karpato-Rusynism can only be the product of prolonged effort and experience. And in our case, their creation and core development are of a rather straightforward nature. We begin with the elements of our society that have a reservoir of agency—those of youthful ambition, the many outsiders spurned by the institutions of the present year, the wealthy and of status who hold potential as benefactors, and those who come from the mass of individuals yet to be nationalized. Our message to them is simple: civilization over destitution. We will not be hamstrung by the taboos that control the actions of present leaders who provide false promises. While they may opt to flow money into the cultural organizations and villages to pacify the people, what is offered by Karpato-Rusynism is something that petty bribery cannot match. We offer the opportunity of the creation of legacy. Give your Rusyn lineage a name worthy to be remembered, and a future that involves your leadership in the creation of a true national awakening. It is like comparing the promise of a spiritual awakening with opiates to numb your senses into submission. Those eager to partake in this ambitious adventure already know who they are because it was felt within them at the moment it was described.
Through this group of true believers the vitality and leadership of our vanguard will emerge. To have them alone will nevertheless lead us to retain an incomplete quality. There is a possibility that beneath the decay of the current order lies a fateful faction of the Rusyn leadership who already recognize that the future at present spells doom for the entire nation. If this small group of those patriotic and brave enough exists, they should step out from the shadows by breaking apart to join the struggle on the side of Karpato-Rusynism. Under most conditions an undividable ruling elite will have the power to withstand almost any rival pressure. It can, and will inevitably be done by us at great expense, but this smaller group would help aid in producing the cracks in the armor necessary to fracture and dismember this revivalist order. To even have a handful that promptly declared this missed opportunity of the past thirty years could be the spark. From them also the knowledge and social capital to weave through the external landmines and challenges that await can be acquired. None of this is strictly necessary, however considering this society is lacking human and economic capital, we should be strict in our principles without being infantile.
In either event, the work of the vanguard in the near future remains the same. Any parliament or forum of a country where Rusyns reside should be joined and tested at every point of weakness. Any legacy institutions should have competitors that will stop at nothing in the attempt to wrangle away their cultural legitimacy. Any village with Rusyn blood still oblivious to its heritage must have evangelists descend upon it. And indeed, any credible outrage that would normally be extinguished by the timidity of the revivalists requires it being taken to its logical conclusion. We must become followers of a doctrine of political expansionism for a righteous cause. Let the states that see themselves as rulers be forced to take action instead allowing for erroneous restraint on our part. Many initial endeavors will result in failure, but the positive consequences of this come in a raised pool of political experience and greater understanding of the path forward. So too, I believe, we will find that many of the closest doors we have so gravely feared to open will show themselves to be rotting at the hinges.
In time most will see this work as a genuine call for a dispossessed people to claim, in the vastness of the earth, a small part for themselves. Those who cannot admit the virtue of this pursuit do not truly see self-determination as a universal right or are blinded by their own tribalism. They are hypocrites if, having a country or autonomous region of their own while espousing these universalities, they deny the same manner of agency to us. Sometimes leaders must be, for they are mandated to act by the needs of the state over esoteric ideals. Let us speak with ease on this level then instead. If those above shall not make it fair to join them, then we shall take what should be ours—break free from these shackles and feel alive for the first time. It is our destiny to fulfill, for there is no worse hell than one created by our own inaction.
V.
If the vision written on these pages is brought to life, those who come after will likely discover that this era was only the first of many transitional stages—the first interfutura. Karpato-Rusynism, and its radicalizing nature, will be a vanishing mediator eventually discarded as a relic of a previous time. There is one thread however, that will become permanently fixed: the option to avoid the national question has closed. From a long gestation the nation has been born. Now it must bear the responsibility that comes with life.
…nearly thirty writers, teachers, and cultural activists were given an opportunity to express their concerns. All spoke in Rusyn and all in their own way demanded an end to the Ukrainian national orientation in the countries where they lived and for the official recognition of Rusyns as a distinct national minority with the right to schools and cultural organizations. The concerns were for cultural rights, and with one exception no one asked for political autonomy or any change of international boundaries. Philip Michaels, Carpatho-Rusyn American, Volume 14 Issue 2, 1991
Systems of Government Support of Minority Activities in Slovakia (2011 – 2020), Table 2 - Morauszki
From Nowhere to Somewhere, Magocsi, pg. 74
https://www.stowarzyszenielemkow.pl/web/komunikat-stowarzyszenia-lemkow-sprzeciw-do-nieprawdziwych-doniesien-medialnych-ktore-godza-w-dobre-imie-spolecznosci-lemkowskiej/