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«Найбільше диво — життя». Спогади.
Спогади одного із засновників і керівника Української Гельсінської Групи Миколи Руденка цікаві з історичного погляду, оскільки життя письменника охоплює майже весь радянський період української історії, так і з психологічного. Бо це щира сповідь людини, яка замолоду віддала данину комуністичній ідеї, але, зазнавши світоглядної кризи, не стала на шлях конформізму, а вчасно переосмислила своє ставлення до навколишньої дійсності. Це закономірно привело колишнього секретаря парткому Спілки письменників України в коло дисидентів-правозахисників, а згодом — у радянські концтабори.
696 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
9 people want to read
About the author
Микола Руденко
7 books1 followerMykola Rudenko was Ukrainian poet, writer, philosopher, Soviet dissident, human rights activist and World War II veteran. He was the founder of the Ukrainian Helsinki group, and was twice arrested for his dissident activities.
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April 3, 2021
I have read about Микола Руденко in Петро Григоренко’s memoirs — they were friends, and Петро Григоренко always talked about Микола Руденко with great warmth. Among other things, he mentioned that Микола Руденко had written his own memoirs, and thus I started to look for them. It was difficult to find them in any form, but I did it eventually, and was very excited about reading them.
Well, it was quite far from what I expected, honestly.
I liked the beginning, when he talked about his childhood in a Donbas village, his family, early memories about life in the 1930s, his strong Ukrainian identity despite the total Russification around him, etc. However, the more I read, the more empty and meaningless his story looked.
You see, although Микола Руденко is considered one of the most prominent Ukrainian dissidents, he was not even a real dissident, in my opinion.
If you read wikipedia, everything looks very “dissidentish,” all right:
“1949 — під час сталінської кампанії проти «космополітів» відмовився негативно характеризувати єврейських письменників, яких вимагали виключити зі СПУ.
1970-ті роки — активно залучився до захисту прав людини, в тому числі національних. Підтримує стосунки з московськими дисидентами. Член Радянського відділення «Міжнародної амністії».
1974 — виключений з КПРС за критику марксизму та правозахисну діяльність.
1975 — виключений зі СПУ.
1975 — заарештований за «антирадянську пропаганду», але з нагоди 30-ї річниці перемоги у німецько-радянській війні амністований як учасник війни.
Був одним із трьох першозасновників і першим головою Української Гельсінської Групи. Після консультацій з П. Григоренком, О. Мешко, О. Бердником, Л. Лук’яненком, І. Кандибою, О. Тихим, М. Матусевичем, М. Мариновичем, Н. Строкатою 9 листопада 1976 р. М. Руденко провів на квартирі А. Д. Сахарова в Москві прес-конференцію для іноземних журналістів, де оголосив про створення УГС.
5 лютого 1977 р. — заарештований у Києві й етапований до Донецька, де було порушено справу проти нього і О. Тихого. Суд відбувся 23 червня — 1 липня 1977 р. Руденка засудили до 7 років таборів суворого режиму і 5 років заслання за так звану «антирадянську агітацію і пропаганду». Твори Руденка були кваліфіковані як «наклеп на радянську владу». Рішенням Головліту (1978) всі його твори були вилучені з продажу та з бібліотек СРСР.
1987 — під тиском громадськості звільнений. Емігрував за кордон — спочатку до Німеччини, потім до США. Працював на радіостанціях «Свобода», «Голос Америки».
1988 — позбавлений громадянства СРСР.
7 вересня 1990 — повернувся в Україну. Відновлений у громадянстві, реабілітований.”
In fact, his joining the dissident movement was a ludicrous curiosity, and his participation in this movement was mostly very nominal, as I understand.
For a long time before this, he was (from his own words and according to his biography) a very loyal and pretty satisfied with his life and “mission” Communist, one of the party elite, a dedicated Soviet propagandist. His childhood and youth role model was Павлик Морозов (sic!). He started to be noticed and distinguished as a good future propagandist already when he was in school. In the army (he was drafted in 1937), he was trained and served in an elite division, “кавалерійський полк НКВД дивізії імені Ф. Дзержинського,” in Moscow, and was very proud to be among those soldiers who were specially trained for parades on the Red Square, in front of Stalin. During World War Two, he was instantly appointed to be a political instructor (“политрук”). After the war, he was a well-regarded member of the official “literature nomenclature,” had his own apartment in Kyiv and a dacha in the “writers’ village” near Kyiv, he drove his own car, he was free to travel abroad, even to the Western countries, etc., etc. He lived very well and never even questioned his social position and his right to have all this while 99% of people around him had miserable lives. Ah yes, he was a true Stalinist as well.
He said that he was very distressed by Khrushchov’s “revelations” about Stalin and this changed him, made him a different person. Maybe. However, he still believed in the Soviet system and Communism, still lived at his dacha and drove his car, and was never distressed by his privileged life or any human rights abuses around him. He was nothing like Петро Григоренко or Андрей Сахаров, for example, who at some point understood what was going on in society and started to fight for other people’s rights and tried to tell the truth about the rotten system.
The thing is: somewhere in the 1960s, Микола Руденко had some mental problems. He suddenly became obsessed with one overvalued idea, and from what he describes, it is a pretty much classical case of a mental disorder. He had visions, and “God talked to him,” and “his head was on fire,” and he felt a connection with the Universe, and all this stuff. He was neither aggressive nor dysfunctional overall, but he formed some crazy theory that looks like a complete bonkers. Just some ridiculous ramble (yeah, he “explains” this theory in the memoirs, and that’s when I really wanted to ditch the book for good).
Any psychiatrist knows that, in different time periods and under different social circumstances, there are always some predominant types of mental disorders, ideas, or delusions forming independently in different people. A period when there are multiple “Napoleons” in psychiatric hospitals; a period when multiple people are “seeing UFOs”; a period when multiple people are obsessed with the Devil, or little green aliens, or harmful “radiation,” or secretive implantation of microchips, etc., etc. It depends on the most prevalent fears or popular sources of fascination/amazement. So, when Микола Руденко had the debut of his mental problems, it was “Ottepel,” and he, together with the whole society, was undergoing through some serious reevaluation of the most basic ideas and values. I suppose, it was the key reason for some “anti-Marxist” trend in his overvalued idea, although it could not contain anything anti-Marxist really, just because it was some incoherent bullshit anyway. Nevertheless, he started to talk with everyone that “Marx was wrong,” and was determined to save the world (because he believed that God talked to him in order to make humanity do something urgent with the current ways of life), and so he, as a responsible Communist and a Soviet patriot, tried to push his theory onto the party and government.
Well, everybody understood, of course, that he was sick in the head, and as he was not aggressive or anything like that, they handled the situation very carefully, not repressing Микола Руденко and even preserving his high status and all his privileges but calmly ignoring him and softly observing how his disease would develop or maybe resolve spontaneously. Obviously many members of the Soviet nomenclature might have had some mental problems, and this was not a reason to exclude them from their ranks immediately. Still, he was “their guy,” and they protected him.
However, at some point, Микола Руденко decided that contacting dissidents (especially the most respected and intelligent scientist among them, Андрей Сахаров) would be a right decision to turn people’s attention to his theory. And that’s how he started to meet dissidents and became considered “one of them,” although, as I said, he never even thought about any activities that all the normal Soviet dissidents cared about. Apparently, Андрей Сахаров and other dissidents were so desperate about engaging people into their circle, that they were very tolerant to the “anti-Marxist” theory of Микола Руденко and probably were even flattered by the fact that such a high-ranking member of the Soviet elite joined them.
And that’s why Микола Руденко “був одним із трьох першозасновників і першим головою Української Гельсінської Групи” — absolutely not because he was very active or respected as a dissident; only because dissidents needed some “big names” for such a serious step. I mean: you would not even find a single thought about “human rights” in his memoirs before this, and all his “anti-Soviet” activities were in the attempts to write and publish a book about his crazy “anti-Marxist theory.”
Surely, Микола Руденко was already not a Stalinist then, and he felt sincere solidarity with many dissidents in their fights on various causes, but we do not know exactly when and how his views were changing from Stalinist to anti-Stalinst even from his memoirs, and we cannot see anything dissidentish in his behavior except for meetings and talks with various people who might have helped him with the publication of his book and its transfer to the West. And now he is widely known as a major dissident, together with such names as Петро Григоренко, Левко Лук’яненко, В’ячеслав Чорновіл, Василь Стус and other famous and well-respected fighters for rights and freedoms. This is ridiculous.
He was probably not a bad person, and his narration is mostly sensible and amiable, but I hardly see any special reasons to love or respect him. He was not clearly unpleasant for me from the memoirs, but I did not find him pleasant/important/interesting as well. His nomenclature life and creative work in literature were grey and irrelevant. His personal life and relationships with other people, especially women, look very much self-centered and not very sincere. He clearly had a mystical inclination of mind, and the memoirs are full of “miraculous” events and predictions, and his “economic philosophy” is nothing but a delusion of a sick and not very intelligent person.
I liked when he talked about regular people, simple Ukrainians and their life, some realities of Soviet society overall. However, except for his early years in Donbas, he saw regular people and talked to them very little, and knew Soviet society mostly from his very privileged position. So no, despite that Петро Григоренко loved him dearly and many other dissidents probably respected him, I do not see anything interesting or important about this person, especially in terms of the Soviet Resistance. I wouldn’t say that the memoirs are not worthy at all, but the book and the personality of its author were definitely not what I expected. I am glad I have a clearer view on this issue now, though.
Well, it was quite far from what I expected, honestly.
I liked the beginning, when he talked about his childhood in a Donbas village, his family, early memories about life in the 1930s, his strong Ukrainian identity despite the total Russification around him, etc. However, the more I read, the more empty and meaningless his story looked.
You see, although Микола Руденко is considered one of the most prominent Ukrainian dissidents, he was not even a real dissident, in my opinion.
If you read wikipedia, everything looks very “dissidentish,” all right:
“1949 — під час сталінської кампанії проти «космополітів» відмовився негативно характеризувати єврейських письменників, яких вимагали виключити зі СПУ.
1970-ті роки — активно залучився до захисту прав людини, в тому числі національних. Підтримує стосунки з московськими дисидентами. Член Радянського відділення «Міжнародної амністії».
1974 — виключений з КПРС за критику марксизму та правозахисну діяльність.
1975 — виключений зі СПУ.
1975 — заарештований за «антирадянську пропаганду», але з нагоди 30-ї річниці перемоги у німецько-радянській війні амністований як учасник війни.
Був одним із трьох першозасновників і першим головою Української Гельсінської Групи. Після консультацій з П. Григоренком, О. Мешко, О. Бердником, Л. Лук’яненком, І. Кандибою, О. Тихим, М. Матусевичем, М. Мариновичем, Н. Строкатою 9 листопада 1976 р. М. Руденко провів на квартирі А. Д. Сахарова в Москві прес-конференцію для іноземних журналістів, де оголосив про створення УГС.
5 лютого 1977 р. — заарештований у Києві й етапований до Донецька, де було порушено справу проти нього і О. Тихого. Суд відбувся 23 червня — 1 липня 1977 р. Руденка засудили до 7 років таборів суворого режиму і 5 років заслання за так звану «антирадянську агітацію і пропаганду». Твори Руденка були кваліфіковані як «наклеп на радянську владу». Рішенням Головліту (1978) всі його твори були вилучені з продажу та з бібліотек СРСР.
1987 — під тиском громадськості звільнений. Емігрував за кордон — спочатку до Німеччини, потім до США. Працював на радіостанціях «Свобода», «Голос Америки».
1988 — позбавлений громадянства СРСР.
7 вересня 1990 — повернувся в Україну. Відновлений у громадянстві, реабілітований.”
In fact, his joining the dissident movement was a ludicrous curiosity, and his participation in this movement was mostly very nominal, as I understand.
For a long time before this, he was (from his own words and according to his biography) a very loyal and pretty satisfied with his life and “mission” Communist, one of the party elite, a dedicated Soviet propagandist. His childhood and youth role model was Павлик Морозов (sic!). He started to be noticed and distinguished as a good future propagandist already when he was in school. In the army (he was drafted in 1937), he was trained and served in an elite division, “кавалерійський полк НКВД дивізії імені Ф. Дзержинського,” in Moscow, and was very proud to be among those soldiers who were specially trained for parades on the Red Square, in front of Stalin. During World War Two, he was instantly appointed to be a political instructor (“политрук”). After the war, he was a well-regarded member of the official “literature nomenclature,” had his own apartment in Kyiv and a dacha in the “writers’ village” near Kyiv, he drove his own car, he was free to travel abroad, even to the Western countries, etc., etc. He lived very well and never even questioned his social position and his right to have all this while 99% of people around him had miserable lives. Ah yes, he was a true Stalinist as well.
He said that he was very distressed by Khrushchov’s “revelations” about Stalin and this changed him, made him a different person. Maybe. However, he still believed in the Soviet system and Communism, still lived at his dacha and drove his car, and was never distressed by his privileged life or any human rights abuses around him. He was nothing like Петро Григоренко or Андрей Сахаров, for example, who at some point understood what was going on in society and started to fight for other people’s rights and tried to tell the truth about the rotten system.
The thing is: somewhere in the 1960s, Микола Руденко had some mental problems. He suddenly became obsessed with one overvalued idea, and from what he describes, it is a pretty much classical case of a mental disorder. He had visions, and “God talked to him,” and “his head was on fire,” and he felt a connection with the Universe, and all this stuff. He was neither aggressive nor dysfunctional overall, but he formed some crazy theory that looks like a complete bonkers. Just some ridiculous ramble (yeah, he “explains” this theory in the memoirs, and that’s when I really wanted to ditch the book for good).
Any psychiatrist knows that, in different time periods and under different social circumstances, there are always some predominant types of mental disorders, ideas, or delusions forming independently in different people. A period when there are multiple “Napoleons” in psychiatric hospitals; a period when multiple people are “seeing UFOs”; a period when multiple people are obsessed with the Devil, or little green aliens, or harmful “radiation,” or secretive implantation of microchips, etc., etc. It depends on the most prevalent fears or popular sources of fascination/amazement. So, when Микола Руденко had the debut of his mental problems, it was “Ottepel,” and he, together with the whole society, was undergoing through some serious reevaluation of the most basic ideas and values. I suppose, it was the key reason for some “anti-Marxist” trend in his overvalued idea, although it could not contain anything anti-Marxist really, just because it was some incoherent bullshit anyway. Nevertheless, he started to talk with everyone that “Marx was wrong,” and was determined to save the world (because he believed that God talked to him in order to make humanity do something urgent with the current ways of life), and so he, as a responsible Communist and a Soviet patriot, tried to push his theory onto the party and government.
Well, everybody understood, of course, that he was sick in the head, and as he was not aggressive or anything like that, they handled the situation very carefully, not repressing Микола Руденко and even preserving his high status and all his privileges but calmly ignoring him and softly observing how his disease would develop or maybe resolve spontaneously. Obviously many members of the Soviet nomenclature might have had some mental problems, and this was not a reason to exclude them from their ranks immediately. Still, he was “their guy,” and they protected him.
However, at some point, Микола Руденко decided that contacting dissidents (especially the most respected and intelligent scientist among them, Андрей Сахаров) would be a right decision to turn people’s attention to his theory. And that’s how he started to meet dissidents and became considered “one of them,” although, as I said, he never even thought about any activities that all the normal Soviet dissidents cared about. Apparently, Андрей Сахаров and other dissidents were so desperate about engaging people into their circle, that they were very tolerant to the “anti-Marxist” theory of Микола Руденко and probably were even flattered by the fact that such a high-ranking member of the Soviet elite joined them.
And that’s why Микола Руденко “був одним із трьох першозасновників і першим головою Української Гельсінської Групи” — absolutely not because he was very active or respected as a dissident; only because dissidents needed some “big names” for such a serious step. I mean: you would not even find a single thought about “human rights” in his memoirs before this, and all his “anti-Soviet” activities were in the attempts to write and publish a book about his crazy “anti-Marxist theory.”
Surely, Микола Руденко was already not a Stalinist then, and he felt sincere solidarity with many dissidents in their fights on various causes, but we do not know exactly when and how his views were changing from Stalinist to anti-Stalinst even from his memoirs, and we cannot see anything dissidentish in his behavior except for meetings and talks with various people who might have helped him with the publication of his book and its transfer to the West. And now he is widely known as a major dissident, together with such names as Петро Григоренко, Левко Лук’яненко, В’ячеслав Чорновіл, Василь Стус and other famous and well-respected fighters for rights and freedoms. This is ridiculous.
He was probably not a bad person, and his narration is mostly sensible and amiable, but I hardly see any special reasons to love or respect him. He was not clearly unpleasant for me from the memoirs, but I did not find him pleasant/important/interesting as well. His nomenclature life and creative work in literature were grey and irrelevant. His personal life and relationships with other people, especially women, look very much self-centered and not very sincere. He clearly had a mystical inclination of mind, and the memoirs are full of “miraculous” events and predictions, and his “economic philosophy” is nothing but a delusion of a sick and not very intelligent person.
I liked when he talked about regular people, simple Ukrainians and their life, some realities of Soviet society overall. However, except for his early years in Donbas, he saw regular people and talked to them very little, and knew Soviet society mostly from his very privileged position. So no, despite that Петро Григоренко loved him dearly and many other dissidents probably respected him, I do not see anything interesting or important about this person, especially in terms of the Soviet Resistance. I wouldn’t say that the memoirs are not worthy at all, but the book and the personality of its author were definitely not what I expected. I am glad I have a clearer view on this issue now, though.
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