Ukrainian Books That Outlived Empires

For centuries, Ukrainian writers fought for cultural survival, overcoming censorship, the destruction of print runs, and decades of hiding their works, yet Ukrainian literature outlived the empires that tried to silence it.

Read the FULL article by Anastasiia Stepanenko, grant writer, project manager, cultural critic, expert at the United Ukraine Think Tank.

For centuries, Ukrainian literature has endured systematic attempts at erasure—censorship, confiscations, destroyed print runs, and persecution of authors. Yet, as Anastasiia Stepanenko emphasizes, Ukrainian writing has consistently outlived the empires that sought to silence it. Its history is not only cultural, but deeply political—a struggle for the right to exist.

Imperial Bans and the Birth of Cultural Resistance

In the 19th century, the Russian Empire viewed the rise of Ukrainian literature as a direct threat. The Valuev Circular and the Ems Ukaz severely restricted Ukrainian-language publishing, banning educational materials and even fiction. As Stepanenko notes, these measures were designed to deny the very existence of Ukrainian as a language of culture and intellectual life.

Paradoxically, repression triggered resistance. Writers and intellectuals began asserting their identity more forcefully, turning literature into a form of national self-defense.

A vivid example, as Stepanenko describes, is Panteleimon Kulish, author of The Black Council—the first historical novel in Ukrainian. To bypass censorship, Kulish admitted to heavily editing his own manuscript. Even so, his works were repeatedly targeted: his folklore collection was banned for decades, entire print runs were destroyed, and even foreign authorities confiscated his political writings. His experience illustrates a broader pattern—Ukrainian literature was suppressed across imperial borders.

From Censorship to Terror: The Soviet Era

If the Russian Empire sought to suppress Ukrainian literature through bans, the Soviet Union escalated repression into systematic terror. Writers were expected to conform to ideological demands, producing literature that served the state. Those who resisted faced persecution.

Stepanenko highlights the tragedy of the “Executed Renaissance”—a generation of Ukrainian modernist writers of the 1920s, most of whom were eliminated during Stalin’s purges in the 1930s. Their works survived only in fragments, preserved underground until the collapse of the Soviet system.

Among them was Mykola Khvylovy, whose call to “Move away from Moscow!” symbolized cultural independence. As Stepanenko explains, his stance alarmed Soviet authorities and turned him into a central figure of ideological confrontation. Under pressure and amid the horrors of the Holodomor, Khvylovy took his own life in 1933.

Another key figure, Valerian Pidmohylny, authored The City—a groundbreaking urban novel that diverged from Soviet expectations. His work was suppressed, and in 1934 he was arrested. Three years later, he was executed during mass killings in Karelia, alongside other Ukrainian intellectuals.

Quiet Resistance: The Late Soviet Period

By the second half of the 20th century, censorship became less visible but no less restrictive. Manuscripts were delayed, altered, or simply hidden away. Yet, as Stepanenko points out, resistance did not disappear—it adapted.

One of the most prominent figures of this period is Lina Kostenko, who turned 96 in March 2026. A leading voice of the “Sixtiers” movement, she embodied intellectual resistance. Her novel in verse, Marusia Churai, completed in 1972, was published only years later due to ideological constraints. Stepanenko notes that Kostenko’s refusal to conform elevated her into a moral authority across generations.

The “Sixtiers,” as Stepanenko describes, formed a vibrant cultural network—writers, poets, and artists who organized underground readings, circulated texts through samizdat, and defended the Ukrainian language in everyday life. Figures like Ivan Drach and Mykola Vinhranovsky experimented with new forms, while others published unofficially, outside state control.

Some paid a much higher price. Vasyl Stus spent years in labor camps for his beliefs, continuing to write even in imprisonment. His poems were smuggled out on scraps of paper. He died in captivity in 1985, leaving behind a body of work that became foundational for modern Ukrainian literature. Others, including literary critic Ivan Svitlychny and writer Yevhen Sverstiuk, endured repeated arrests, while countless manuscripts disappeared into the archives of the Soviet security services.

Literature That Outlived Empires

As Stepanenko concludes, the history of Ukrainian literature is not merely a story of cultural development—it is a chronicle of resistance. Each generation of writers faced different forms of repression, from imperial bans to totalitarian terror, yet continued to produce works that preserved identity and memory.

Empires fell. Regimes collapsed. But Ukrainian literature endured.

Today, this legacy carries new meaning. In a time of renewed aggression, literature once again becomes more than art—it becomes a form of survival, a voice that cannot be silenced, and a testament to the resilience of a nation.

Read the FULL article on The Gaze: Ukrainian Books That Outlived Empires

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