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Pyotr Tolochko, the pre-eminent historian and archeologist of Kievan Rus, passed away quietly in Kyiv, Ukraine, late last month at the age of 87. Tolochko devoted his entire life to studying the early history of Ukraine, including 30 years as head of the Institute of Archeology of the Ukrainian Academy of Sciences.His hundreds of scholarly articles and more than two dozen monographs led to international acclaim and appointments at several European and international academies, as well as two state prizes of Ukraine in science and technology. Along the way, he twice served as a member of the national parliament, from 1998 to 2006, first in the Hromada Party, then in Yulia Timoshenko's Bloc. Thanks to his efforts, the country got its first law on the protection of its archeological heritage in 2004.The passing of a medieval historian, even one of such note as Tolochko, is not usually seen as a moment for political reflection. But Tolochko was no ordinary historian. He was also an unrelenting gadfly to Ukrainian political leaders, constantly rebuking them for abusing Ukrainian history and lying to Ukrainians about their past.Believing firmly that politics should rest on a sound historical foundation, Tolochko used his considerable scholarly authority to argue that the government-sponsored narrative about Ukrainians and Russian having distinct origins was nothing but pseudo-science.Drawing on his encyclopedic knowledge of Ukrainian history, he pointed to many inconvenient historical facts. First, that Ukraine, Russia, and Belarus had all emerged from a single civilization that for centuries shared a common culture, common religion, and common language. The people who shared this culture defined themselves as Rusichy or more simply Rus. In the north and northwest, they eventually formed the Velikoross or "Great Russian" ethnos; in the west, the Belarus or "White Russian" ethnos; and in the south, the Maloross or "Little Russian" ethnos. There were other communities, such as Black Rus in the far north, and Red Rus, in modern day Ukrainian Galicia, but only these three developed into the nations that we know today as Russia, Belarus, and Ukraine. The term Little Russian evokes passionate dislike among many Ukrainians today, but Tolochko refused to see anything objectionable in the term. Indeed, he often referred to himself as a Maloross and argued that Ukrainian nationalists knowingly distorted its meaning. Little Russia never referred to being a smaller part of Rus, but rather to the oldest part of Rus, its true heartland. He also insisted on viewing another controversial historical episode — Bohdan Khmelnitsky's decision in 1654 to join the Russian Empire — as a reunification of Great and Little Russians. Despite the gradual loss of local autonomy, he considered it a good thing for Ukraine, since without it the Western half of the country would have likely been consumed by Poland and lost its cultural, religious, and linguistic identity. Finally, Tolochko argued that, as an ethnic and political nation, Ukrainians appeared only after the collapse of the Russian empire, and thanks to the Soviet regime, which introduced territorial divisions along ethnic lines and tried to impose nearly total Ukrainianization on political and cultural life during the late 1920s and early 1930s, an effort that notably failed. Throughout his career, Tolochko considered ideologically imposed versions of history to be exceedingly dangerous for society, whether they stemmed from communist ideology or from contemporary Ukrainian nationalism. He described the current nationalist narrative of an indigenous European Ukraine as merely a degraded copy of the narratives created by Ukrainian intellectuals at the end of the 19th and early 20th centuries. Their sole purpose, in his view, is to divide Ukrainian and Russians and argue that their separate origins had led them to make divergent political and cultural choices — one in favor of liberalism and Europe, the other in favor of despotism and Asia.The danger of such a simplistic dichotomy, he said, is that it demonizes the entire Eastern half of Ukraine. After three decades of struggle to have their local cultural and religious autonomy respected, their resentment exploded in 2014 when the Maidan uprising left them with no other prospect but living in an even more aggressively nationalistic Ukraine. As Tolochko put it, "We should blame ourselves for the fact that Crimea left us. We pushed it away."Since Ukraine's independence, an entire generation has been raised without any inkling of the common history and shared life in the USSR or the Russian Empire. The last 300 years have been portrayed to them as nothing but a series of conflicts between Ukraine and Russia, when in fact, says Tolochko, the Russian empire was largely a co-creation of Ukrainians and Russians. Its greatness and its darkness should thus be shared by both, just as the Scots share the glory and responsibility for the British Empire with the English. There is ultimately no other way to become a truly sovereign historical actor, Tolochko argued, than to assume personal responsibility for one's actions.On the other hand, Tolochko agreed with Ukrainian leaders that Ukraine's choice for a Christian European identity was made over a millennium ago, with the baptism of Rus on the Dnipro River. But he understood this choice not as one made by Ukrainians alone, but rather by the entire family of Eastern Slavic peoples known as Rus'.Remembering this common heritage was therefore essential to preserving national unity, and he implored Ukrainian political leaders to recognize that there were, in fact, several different kinds of Ukrainians — "Russian Ukrainians, Ukrainian Ukrainians, Polish Ukrainians, Hungarian Ukrainians, and so on. If we insist on discriminatory policies in Ukraine, on dividing native from non-native, on prohibiting language [usage], then just as we were sewn together, we can be unsewn at these seams." Instead of trying to build an identity for all Ukrainians around just the four Westernmost regions (Galicia), Tolochko urged Ukrainians to embrace the multiplicity of Ukrainian identities and to take pride in their coexistence over time.Given the resonance of his views with those of Russian President Vladimir Putin (and, if we are to be honest, with the views of most mainstream Western historians before 2014), it is not hard to see why Tolochko was eventually removed from all administrative and political positions, and prevented from speaking publicly in Ukraine. He withstood such restrictions philosophically, telling his friends that he lived not for today but in the Middle Ages.When asked about Ukraine's future, Tolochko remained cautiously optimistic. He saw Ukrainians and Russians as estranged brothers who, whatever their differences, are condemned to closeness because of their intertwined histories. Relations between them, he liked to point out, had frequently moved from closeness to alienation, and back again. The current cycle might last a long time, but in the end he felt confident that "common sense will prevail." All that was needed was patience, compassion, and a sense of history.

To punish Russia for its invasion of Ukraine in early 2022, Western governments froze the assets of the Russian Central Bank, Russian financial persons, and officials in the amount of approximately $330 billion. They are now seeking to use these funds to help pay for the reconstruction of Ukraine and help compensate for some of the enormous costs incurred by the West in this war.From the outset, the seizure of these assets has raised serious legal concerns that have made their use to fund reparations both difficult and controversial. The ensuing legal battles will no doubt last decades, while doing nothing to actually help people in Ukraine. Moreover, since most Russians find the idea of using their purloined assets to serve Western geopolitical objectives "highly offensive," it will add yet another body blow to a relationship already fraught with recriminations.I would therefore like to present an alternative approach that, while it may not satisfy the lust for vengeance, might actually serve to promote both reconstruction and reconciliation. Expanding on ideas that Ted Snider and I recently proposed for a negotiated settlement in Ukraine, I suggest that seized Russian assets be restored to Russia, de jure. This would be an essential first step in restoring the faith of investors in the legal underpinnings of the international financial system. Beyond that, de facto, and as an essential part of healing the wounds of war as quickly as possible, Russia should then be invited to invest these resources in rebuilding Ukraine. Historically, Russia has always been Ukraine's largest investor, dwarfing the EU. Dmitry Medvedev, then Russia's prime minister, put the cumulative value of the tariff waivers, trade preferences, and gas subsidies that Ukraine received from Russia between 1991 and 2014 at roughly $250 billion. Over this same period, Western financial institutions promised Ukraine $62 billion in aid, but actually disbursed less than half this amount. The loss of Russian investment was thus a terrible blow to the Ukrainian economy, especially since comparable Western investments never materialized. Since 2014, Russia has committed significant resources to the reconstruction of Donbass and Crimea, and is making ambitious plans to do so again in the newly annexed territories of Ukraine — a strong indication of its interest in investing in the Russian-speaking regions of Ukraine. Conversely, Russia is as unlikely to want to rebuild those regions of Ukraine that are openly antagonistic to it, as the West has been to rebuild Donbass and Crimea. But while Russia and the West already have plans to invest in their preferred parts of Ukraine, it has proven difficult to raise the enormous sums of money needed — by some estimates, as much as one trillion dollars. This problem would be much easier to solve if the task of reconstruction were regarded as a joint endeavor. Perhaps as part of a final and comprehensive peace settlement, a UN fund could be set up for the reconstruction of Ukraine as a whole, under which both Russian and Western aid and investments could be managed and coordinated — a good model, potentially, for post-war cooperation in other areas. A symbiotic division of labor might then ensue, whereby the West could use its funds to rebuild western and central Ukraine, while Russia could use its funds to rebuild eastern and southern Ukraine. This proposal stems from my conviction that any successful Ukrainian reconstruction program should conceive of assistance to Ukraine not as a vehicle for punishing or manipulating Russia, but rather for healing and reintegration. This approach should be applied first within Ukraine itself, to help heal its persistent regional divisions (which are still very deep, as President Zelensky himself recently acknowledged), and eventually expanded to encompass Ukraine, Russia, and all of Europe. Since Ukraine is, in any case, destined to remain an object of geopolitical competition, it is important to find creative ways for this competition to manifest itself in constructive, rather than destructive ways. If, as both sides claim, they are competing for the hearts and minds of the people, then let them compete in generosity.Some might object that such a division of labor would create mutually exclusive economic dependencies that could lead, ultimately, to Ukraine's partition. I would argue, however, that such a partition is far more likely under the current approach to post-war reconstruction, which envisages using Western funds to assist only those regions of Ukraine that are under Kyiv's control. By contrast, if cross-border trade is allowed to serve its natural function of encouraging mutual interaction, partition would become far less likely. It is worth recalling that it was Kyiv's refusal to resume full commercial and banking ties with Donbass, despite these being a key stipulation in the Minsk-2 Accords, that contributed to the grievances that led in turn to the present conflict. But the internal re-knitting of Ukraine through commerce would be only the first of many potential benefits. The positive impact of the restoration of trade ties would soon be felt over the entire European continent, especially if Ukraine (or at least its most damaged regions) were afforded a special economic status that allowed both EU and Russian/CIS goods to pass freely between Europe and Eurasia.Of course, extremists on both sides will immediately object to such a compromise. Those who say, "punish Russia, come what may," will argue that justice must triumph over all other considerations. Meanwhile, those who cry, "to Hell with the West, our cause is just," will argue that sovereignty must prevail at all costs. But those who can tolerate some untidiness in their world should welcome such a compromise, since it offers both immediate and tangible assistance to those who need it most—the long-suffering people of Ukraine.

Sergei Sivokho, Ukrainian peace activist, succumbed to chronic asthma and passed away on October 17. His name was not well known outside Ukraine, perhaps because, in these angry times, he sought to reconcile Ukrainians rather than drive them apart. One wonders if, in the end, this big bear of a man died of a broken heart.Sivokho rose to political prominence thanks to his close personal friendship with Volodymyr Zelensky. He was the creative producer of the comedy show Kvartal 95 and after Zelensky's unexpected victory, the newly minted president tried to get him to run for public office. Sivokho, originally a native of Donbass, asked instead to be appointed advisor to the National Security and Defense Council of Ukraine with the remit of advising on humanitarian policies toward his native region. Very quickly, however, he came to the conclusion that peace in Ukraine had to be approached from a radically different perspective, namely by putting an end to what he termed "the war inside our own heads." According to Sivokho: "More terrible than the coronavirus is the virus of hatred. It is important to change not only the attitude of the state to its citizens, but the attitude of people to each other . . . What my team is doing is trying to incline people to mutual understanding . . . because the peace that we are all seeking begins in the hearts and minds of every Ukrainian "At first Sivokho's optimism was echoed by Zelensky himself. At the 2020 Munich Security Conference, and later at the Forum on Unity in Mariupol, Zelensky called for "a massive national dialogue," where people could discuss their common future face-to-face. To this end, he endorsed Sivokho's pet project — a National Platform for Reconciliation and Unity — which was formally presented to the public on March 12, 2020. That presentation, however, lasted just 20 minutes, because a gang of some 70 young people from the National Corps (the civilian wing of the Azov Battalion) stormed into the hall, and with shouts of "traitor," pushed Sivokho until he fell to the ground. Sivokho was fired from his advisory government position two weeks later.It may seem odd that even before Russia's invasion, merely mentioning reconciliation and dialogue could arouse so much anger, until one realizes that what Sivokho was actually asking for was a fundamental shift in Ukrainian political thinking. In his mind, Ukrainians had to recognize that they all bear some measure of responsibility for the conflict in Donbass, and specifically for dehumanizing the Other Ukrainians, those who do not think or talk the way they do. Such policies, he argued, began well before 2014. His words aroused intense anger among Ukrainian nationalists, who were further outraged by his assertion that, "the time has come to correct mistakes, to forgive and to ask for forgiveness . . . to talk to the people living in the uncontrolled territories." After being fired, and despite threats on his life, Sivokho persisted in his peace efforts until the very end. Over time, he became increasingly critical of government policy, though never of his longtime friend, Zelensky. He called for changes to the Ukrainian language laws that severely restrict the public use of Russian. He said that the government's refusal to implement the Minsk Accords had led Ukraine into a dark and isolated corner.He even revealed publicly that the rebels had made a formal proposal to return nationalized companies to their Ukrainian owners, and to have the contentious "special status" for Donbass end in 2050, and he rebuked the Ukrainian government for refusing to even talk to the rebels. Rather than prohibiting contacts between local officials across the contact line, Sivokho urged them to talk to each other. "Imagine," he says, "how they would rejoice and sorrow together. If they were only allowed to return there, they would restore their villages on their own, from both sides. What a fantastic example that would be!"His last public battle was to prevent passage of the draconian law "On the Basics of State Policy in the Transition Period," sponsored by then Minister for Reintegration of the Occupied Territories (later Minister of Defense), Oleksiy Reznikov. Sivokho complained bitterly that the Reznikov Plan, which was approved by the Cabinet of Ministers in August 2021, treated the Ukrainians in Donbass and Crimea as a conquered people.Rather than allowing animosities to subside, he said, this would ensure that they are passed on to future generations. The rebels themselves would be long gone, but like Banquo's Ghost, their spirit would still haunt Ukraine's future, an impertinent reminder of the Other, Russophone Ukraine, that Ukrainian nationalists would still be busily trying to erase.Some Ukrainian nationalists will rejoice at the demise of this inconvenient Ukrainian patriot who fought tirelessly to overcome the country's divisions by preaching mutual forgiveness. His personal quest for peace may now be over, but we should all hope, for Ukraine's sake, that his mission is taken up by others.

Cover -- CRAFTING DEMOCRACY -- Title -- Copyright -- CONTENTS -- List of Figures and Tables -- Acknowledgments -- Note on Style -- Introduction -- PART I. SHIFTING THE FOCUS -- 1. Defining Democracy -- The Many Meanings of Democracy -- From Authoritarianism to Democratic Transition -- From Transition to Democratic Consolidation -- From Consolidation to Mature Democracy -- The Case for Regional Democratic Development -- Democratization Theory in Disarray -- 2. Democratic Development in Russia: The Novgorod Model -- A New Constitutional Order -- Economic Success -- Voluntary Associations -- 3. How We Missed Novgorod's Democratic Consolidation -- Criticisms of Novgorod as a Democratic Model -- The Most Common Failures of Democratization Theories -- Explaining Away the Differences between Novgorod and Pskov -- How Current Democratic Theory Overlooks Democracy -- PART II. CULTURE, MYTH, AND SYMBOLS -- 4. Three Keys to Understanding Rapid Social Change -- What Works and What Doesn't When Studying Transition -- Why Cultural Analysis Is Best for the Study of Transition -- What is Missing from Cultural Analysis? -- Should There Be a Metafield of Symbolic Politics? -- 5. Novgorod in Russia's Memory -- The Republic of St. Sophia -- Novgorod's Enduring Message of Freedom -- The Image of Novgorod in the Twentieth Century -- 6. Symbols at Work -- Activating the Novgorod Myth -- How Symbols Promoted Democratic Consolidation in Novgorod -- Symbols and Myths as Political Resources Elsewhere in Russia -- How Different Is Russia? -- The Variety and Power of Symbols -- 7. Crafting Democracy -- The Russian Idea versus Regional Myths -- What Symbols Can Do for Democratic Development -- The Cultural Audit -- Training for a New Type of Development -- Opportunities and Pitfalls -- Notes -- Index