Abstract
The collapse of the Soviet empire in 1991 opened up an important window of opportunity for female self-reidentification in Ukraine. Broadly speaking, thus far the country’s transition from a totalitarian society to a democratizing one has produced two waves of opposition. The First Wave began with a neotraditional form of rejection of communist values. Eventually, it was succeeded by a new opposition, this time to the newly established dominant cultural code. One of the most important characteristics to distinguish the First Wave from the Second was a generational divide. This article compares the two waves with regard to the nature of their respective oppositions and their ability to produce changes calculated to minimize the negative stereotyping and abuses against women. The article focuses on one dominant form of opposition to existing cultural norms, in each of the two waves.
Since the demise of the Soviet Union, women in Ukraine have lived in a world largely shaped by the ideological and cultural rejection of communist values and the once-exalted ‘heroine of socialist labor’. Even before the 1991 move to Ukrainian independence early stirrings of the rejection of communist ideology could observed with the formation of independent non-socialist women’s groups beginning to distance themselves from their Soviet past, 1 as they sought to transform a moribund socialist system into an open democratic society. Demonstrating their newly awakened sense of power, women’s organizations launched massive demonstrations against the regime (Chomiak, p. 2). By 1991 a proliferation of such organizations were holding the promise of a more just society. Their rhetoric, however, resonated more with that of the 19th century than the 20th century, generating a neotraditional ideology with which many Ukrainian women began to identify. It also marked the first phase of a widespread rejection of former communist values (Chomiak, p. 3).
The most noteworthy feature of such rhetoric was the idea that Ukrainian women have been empowered since prehistoric times, symbolized by the ancient ‘hearth mother’ known as Berehynia (protectress). A zealous reanimation of this cultural legacy informed the post-Soviet interpretation of femininity, enabling Ukrainians to visualize themselves as heirs to a unique, ancient matriarchal society as a means of validating their age-old existence as a separate nation. Before long, Berehynia became a cult symbol – in the media, the arts, in the names of institutions, organizations, and events – a cultural icon marking multiple facets of Ukrainian life.
Women who chose to reject this neotraditional ideology as a self-descriptor channeled their opposition into different social norms by forging an alternative social space for themselves. As a result, a subculture of heretofore unfamiliar feminine prototypes emerged.
Another segment of female society communicated its denunciation of the Soviet legacy by espousing western-style oppositional gender discourses. Its members identified with western feminist tenets, adapted to the Ukrainian situation and transmitted through a multifaceted gender lens stressing individualism, even though most of these women refused to describe themselves as feminists. The term is in widespread disrepute in Ukrainian society, and all too often provokes snickers among the male establishment. These gender activists/incipient feminists (or proto-feminists), many of whom enjoyed western hospitality and access to information through a variety of grants and fellowships, emerged as a pioneering force for reform in transitional Ukraine. Their initiatives included enhanced legal solutions to women’s problems, diverse educational programs designed to encourage an end to gender discrimination, training sessions, plus an array of public events aimed at raising awareness of the detrimental effects of negative stereotyping and abuses targeting women. This ‘micro-public’, as Hrycak and Rewakowicz (2009) have characterized them, for all of their persistent efforts and laudable exertions ‘have remained small and fragile’ – surprisingly so, in light of the range of material and other kinds of western support received over nearly two decades (Rubchak, 2009). In sum, together all three categories of opposition can be seen as the First Wave, a ‘senior branch’, of opponents to the communist legacy.
By early 2008 it was evident that the nature of resistance was undergoing a shift in direction, shaped by the changing culture of the time and the coming to maturity of a new generation with little exposure to the coercive nature of the order under which the earlier generation had lived. This same generation rejected many of the post-communist norms, and the Second Wave opposition was born. The most renowned of this ‘junior branch’ of reformers comprised activists calling themselves FEMEN – typically university-trained women dedicated to breaking down the existing power dynamics between the sexes through provocative actions and dress. FEMEN launched its public protests with a grassroots movement against the exponential growth of a sex industry in Ukraine.
FEMEN’S ideological allies are members of a nationwide political network of youth (like FEMEN also powered by students) known as ‘Young Rukh’, 2 which has been radicalizing with mounting intensity in response to the creeping Soviet-style anti-democratic policies of the new administration, in power since early 2010. Although the immediate focus embraces all forms of social justice, including gender, Young Rukh is more politically oriented and resorts to more conventional means of protest than does FEMEN. 3 After its formation in 1993, Young Rukh made substantial gains in the political mainstream, but under the present regime the movement lost much of its earlier political presence and its younger members compensated by escalating their protest rallies and through various acts of civil disobedience.
In yet another sector of opposition we find an extension of the incipient feminists (proto-feminists) of the First Wave. In 2008, a Kharkiv-based women’s association, affiliated with an active regional gender resource center headed by Tetyana Isaieva, spearheaded the founding of the first Women’s Museum in Ukraine. Its stated goal was to rescue women’s voices from oblivion by exhibiting examples of their achievements and their contributions to Ukrainian history. Unlike the student-driven FEMEN and Young Rukh, these are mostly seasoned scholars whose participatory methods overlap with the First Wave gender activists.
Although each of the separate forms of opposition to prevailing ideological and cultural norms merits closer examination, space constraints oblige me to concentrate on one from each of the two waves. Accordingly I pay close attention to the neotraditional reaction to communism during the First Wave, with Berehynia as a powerful ‘icon’. My focus for the Second Wave is an organization calling itself FEMEN. The catalyst for this group’s emergence were the numerous abuses and corruption that came to light in Ukraine after 1991.
Out with the old
In any emerging state, as its people attempt to validate their collective being one of the first things they do is to construct a history of the nation that stretches into some distant past. With it they attempt to recover what are perceived to be their authentic traditions, and along with them the image of the traditional woman (Gupta, 1972: 70–2). Beginning with the move to independence in 1991, post-communist Ukrainians sought to authenticate their ethnic uniqueness by rejecting the collective quasi-masculine Soviet model of quintessential womanhood in favor of their own legendary ‘hearth mother’ Berehynia, signifying women’s empowerment. They created important links with their past by reaching into prehistory for a lasting symbol of Ukrainian cultural identity as a historically matriarchal society. Berehynia’s image was ‘decontextualized . . . then reinserted structurally and historically into different circumstances’ (Gal and Kligman, 2000: 93; Hrycak, 2007). It was projected onto a contemporary culturally determined female stereotype to produce a new paradigm of the ideal woman, exemplifying both the empowered ‘domestic madonna’ of old, and her modern ‘mother of the nation’ counterpart. References to the reanimated Berehynia flourished, lulling Ukraine’s women into a false sense of their own centrality and influential status, thereby reinforcing negative female stereotyping.
An extraordinary artistic rendition of this female archetype is to be found in Cherkassy, a former military stronghold and now a city in central Ukraine. It is a bas relief which graces a wall two storeys high at the entrance to the museum of local culture (Figure 1). The image was carved during the late Soviet era, in 1986, or five years before independence – ‘a female figure executed in massive proportions befitting the masculine-like ideal Soviet Woman’. 4 Contrary to Soviet principles, however, she was conceived in the form of a voluptuous female, with softly-contoured, nurturing breasts, an outsized navel (source of life) and outstretched arms, evoking the Orthodox praying virgin. A tiny replica of a cosmonaut issues from her head. Ranged around her legs is a group of Lilliputian-like ‘child-men’ nearly half her size. Each represents a highly valued masculine endeavor – scholarship, the military, politics, labor – yet is symbolically minimized as a man, as the relatively small dimensions and placement of each male figure attests. This female form, towering over the diminutive males, personifies at once the Amazon-like strength of a superhuman female as a major force in the Soviet world of force, and the prototypical mother figure ‘whose insistence on the primacy of life . . . defies the legitimacy of a [Soviet] social order based upon the heroic feats of individuals or nations’ (Lauter, 1984: 47–50; Rubchak, 2001; 2009: 143). Most remarkable about this portrayal of idealized womanhood is its link to separate Ukrainian nationhood during the communist era of a collective Soviet identity. The image strained the limits of censorship at a time when the heroine of all-Union socialist labor, ‘the mother-worker’, still evoked Soviet-style quasi-masculinity. Moreover, the mother-worker prototype, notwithstanding the new state-sponsored emphasis on motherhood, did not conform to the iconic persona of Ukraine’s Berehynia. The latter, portrayed as Oranta, the Orthodox praying virgin, source of all human life and achievement (note the cosmonaut issuing from her head), was firmly associated with Ukraine’s ancient matriarchal heritage.

Berehynia – mother of the nation
Not all women in Ukraine during that First Wave of the rejection of communist ideology were content to identify with such a neotraditional image of femininity, however. Some opted for a vision of themselves that signified western-style ‘sophistication’. Along a continuum of rejected societal norms a kaleidoscope of lifestyles formed a new paradigm of female identity. This particular departure from a stultifying collective past projected a sense of individuality and personal freedom, an important psychological distancing from the common herd and sexual liberalization (with or without abnormal sexual preferences). Collectively, the new female prototype contributed to a kind of counterculture in transitional Ukraine.
In the third form of opposition we find newly minted ‘proto-feminists’, who rejected the feminist label because for them it signified unfulfilled, man-hating viragos, even as they advocated for the progressive agendas of equal rights and possibilities which feminists championed. One of the earliest proponents of gender activism, Larysa Kobelyans’ka, who heads the UN-sponsored Equal Opportunities Program, understood the importance and the potential of building support for gender justice with a small number of well-prepared activists, especially in a country such as Ukraine, which even now remains ill-prepared for any significant reforms. In the early 1990s, Kobelyans’ka and her colleagues mounted a lobbying campaign which led to three unprecedented parliamentary hearings on women’s issues. The first of the hearings took place in June 1995. Depicted as a milestone in Ukraine’s quest for women’s rights, it might also be described as ‘political theater’, staged by male legislators to publicize governmental compliance with the terms of the UN Convention on Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW). Soviet Ukraine became a signatory to the Convention in 1980, and ratified it the following year. 5 Although billed as a prelude to the upcoming action-oriented Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing in September 1995, demands for sexual equality seldom rose above the level of typical populist discourse calling for special concessions to women’s needs as mothers and wives, especially policies that would facilitate a balance between work and family. The next two hearings, in 2004 and 2006, virtually replicated the tone and rhetoric of the first hearing, with an important exception: violence against, and trafficking in, women had become hot issues and were accorded a prominent place on the 2006 agenda.
In 1997 a global network, the United Nations Development Program (UNDP), embarked on the task of introducing in Ukraine programs designed to raise public awareness of the evils of negative gender stereotyping, and its staff provided policy support for gender-sensitive legislation. Then, thanks to the unrelenting efforts of a small number of determined activists, a succession of gender-sensitive initiatives was introduced early in the new millennium. In 2000 Ukraine subscribed to the UN-sponsored ‘16 Days of Activism against Gender Violence’, scheduled for observance from 25 November through 10 December annually until 2015. That same year, these activists launched a nationwide public information campaign on gender awareness, ‘Ukraine 2015: Millennium Development Goals’. Following the enactment of the Law on the Prevention of Domestic Violence on 15 November 2001, a second law created a platform for reviewing acts or threats of domestic violence; it came into effect in 2002. On 26 April 2003, the Cabinet of Ministers issued a decree strengthening certain gender-sensitive provisions in existing laws. A year later, the government introduced a series of cooperative initiatives to encourage gender equality throughout the various governmental institutions (Fedkovych, 2008).
At first glance, the landmark Law on Equal Rights and Opportunities (2001) appeared to represent a major triumph for women’s rights, but certain legal limitations quickly became apparent. Article 11 of the Law on the Prevention of Domestic Violence states that victim-like behavior which may lead to family violence is inadmissible. District police inspectors or the criminal police were authorized to issue forewarnings to victims of abuse regarding its inadmissibility, and offer advice on how to avoid such violence. In other words, the law supported the assumption that the victim is to blame for provoking her own abuse. 6 If the case should go to court the law served as a mitigating factor for the prosecution. Male perpetrators were quick to exploit the woman’s disadvantage: ‘She made me do it’ became a catchphrase for their violent acts.
The penchant for blaming women for their own misfortune in Ukraine is facilitated by a culture of silence and the stigma attached to revealing relationships based upon abuse. All such handicaps intensify female vulnerability to brutality, and encourage law enforcement officials to turn a blind eye to evidence of even the most vicious crimes committed against them. Indeed, state officials themselves have a history of sexually assaulting women who are being held in police and other forms of state custody, while police officers, those ‘criminals in uniform’, are known to demand sexual favors from abused women in return for registering their complaints. 7
In an attempt to repair such injustices and offer a modicum of protection to victims of violent behavior, on 22 April 2002 the Ministry of Internal Affairs established a procedure for putting wife batterers on record. 8 Once in place, authorities deemed it a sufficient deterrent against further acts of aggression. A measure of its ineffectiveness, however, can be found in the rising number of calls for help from women seeking protection from abuse. Meanwhile, although appeals for more effective legislation continue to mount, and numerous excellent laws are already in place, there is scant evidence of any intention to activate them.
On a somewhat more hopeful note, an important piece of legislation, the Law on Ensuring Equal Rights and Opportunities for Women and Men, was passed on 8 September 2005 and came into force on 1 January 2006. It had taken 10 years of aggressive lobbying by gender activists to convince parliamentarians raised on traditional notions that no such thing as gender inequity exists for such a law to be passed. Now, for the first time in history, Ukrainians have a legal definition of discrimination based upon sex, although implementation remains elusive.
Sea change or déjà vu?
Having outlined the numerous obstacles to reform, it is also important to note that gender justice does continue to advance, albeit slowly and painfully. This is especially indicative in the way that women have begun to perceive themselves, their recognition of the need to be seen as something other than nurturing mothers, compliant wives and alluring sweethearts. Offering a striking example of this, in 2009 a group of feminists from Kharkiv – often referred to as the most gender-conscious Ukrainian city, although Kyiv is also a strong contender – determined to reconfigure the text of the typical International Women’s Day greeting from prominent males, to publicize a new, more suitable paradigm. Rather than tolerate such saccharine ‘compliments’ as ‘dearest, loveliest, bewitching, alluring, nurturing, loving, compassionate, virtuous, and selfless’, or acknowledge the ubiquitous references to motherhood as woman’s supreme calling, these feminists insisted upon being addressed in a gender-neutral manner consistent with their intellectual capacities and professional accomplishments. Elsewhere in Ukraine, one of the most outspoken critics of sexism, Lviv’s gender scholar Oksana Kis’, urged women to persist in systematically weakening gender stereotyping in a process that she equated with water gradually eroding rock. 9 In a public demand for gender parity, which found resonance with women across Ukraine, Kis’ appealed to female readers to distribute a personalized variant of an admonitory draft letter to as many males in authority as possible.
A recent high-profile example of the difficulty of altering conventional policies and attitudes toward women is that of President Victor Yanukovych. During the recent runoff election for the nation’s highest office, when referring to his female opponent Yulia Tymoshenko he remarked that a woman’s place is in the kitchen. Emblematic of his continued retrograde thinking is Yanukovych’s first International Women’s Day (8 March) greeting as president, expressing his love and respect for women. It was titled: ‘Yanukovych promises to repay the debt owed to women’.
Dear women, our own dear, tender, and always beautiful. It is the festival of spring, and we greet the most beautiful half of Ukraine – our mothers, wives, daughters and sisters [note the order]. Berehyni [she’s back!] of our hearth and home. We love and are bewitched by you, dear women. We respect you for your endurance, your wisdom, your faithfulness. For the love that is in your hearts. It comes as no surprise that the level of a nation’s culture is reflected in the way its women are regarded. We all owe you a debt of gratitude, our dear women. The state is in your debt. But rest assured, we will make it right.
10
The customary way of stereotyping women by this president can be further illustrated by another of his recent official acts. On 18 June 2010, Yanukovych awarded the ‘Order of Princess Olga Medal’ to the wife of Ukraine’s former president, Liudmyla Kuchma, in acknowledgment of her contribution to the protection of motherhood and family. Then, on 8 March 2011 he bestowed the title ‘Mother-Heroine’ on 4000 Ukrainian women with five or more children. 11 Such essentialist expressions as Yanukovych’s greeting, or the ceremonial distribution of rewards which reinforce them, are not confined to the elite. They extend to the grassroots level as well, as one reactivated Soviet-style ceremony illustrated. On 8 March 2010, Mykola Fedoruk, mayor of the southwestern Ukrainian city of Chernivtsi, marked the occasion by distributing medals and attractive packages of household items to ‘heroine-mothers’ of five or more children, in appreciation of their fulfillment of a woman’s hallowed mission (see e.g. Bukovyna Online, 2009).
What is to be done?
Periodically, a cause must reinvent itself if it is to remain relevant to the needs of the times. This is especially true in Ukraine’s fluid political atmosphere. As we have already observed, rejections of past values have assumed multifarious forms, with each sending its own unique message and yielding its own discrete results. Events such as the parliamentary hearings, not to mention the numerous government and NGO-sponsored conferences, retreats, workshops and seminars, with their stirring rhetoric, lofty goals and stated resolve to enhance the status of women, all provided traction for modest gains. References to women’s essentialist qualities, and oft-repeated ‘almost mechanical belief in the power of intention to determine the outcome of policy implementation’ (Standing, 2006: 107), however, continue to inhibit both the scale and pace of reforms.
Any emergent social movement faces obstacles, proceeds unevenly, and with difficulty, as it works its way through the people’s resistance toward cultural change (Dobash and Dobash, 1992). In Ukraine, the decades ahead will present ever greater challenges to building a consensus on gender justice, even as people’s awareness of the patterns of discrimination against women increases. Overcoming the hurdles to reform will call for cooperation from all sectors of society. To extend and strengthen such cooperation, organizations committed to protecting and promoting women’s rights are on the rise, but many more are needed if women are to transcend the patriarchal constraints under which they live. The rise to power in 2010 of a new and blatantly sexist administration is already presenting grave impediments to gender justice, although it is also possible that at some juncture the government’s coercive measures will backfire and inspire fierce resistance. As advocates of women’s rights take stock of their progress over the past two decades, they are coming to the realization that in such difficult circumstances they must take their exertions to a higher plane, to foster even greater social networks of change. In this atmosphere, politically radicalized youth and younger gender activists seeking to give women a voice and insure their equality came to prominence in 2008 and ushered in the Second Wave opposition.
Charge of the pink brigade
‘Age emerges as a fascinating dynamic location that shapes the modalities of activism’ (Hodgson and Brook, 2007: 21), and indeed, it is the various youthful groups who are beginning to rise to the challenges left unmet by the previous generation, notwithstanding the latter’s best efforts. Current examples of disaffection are diverse, but they have one thing in common – they tend increasingly to be the actions of young people exhibiting radical shifts in views and consciousness, and an increasingly proactive role in seeking solutions to social problems.
The spring of 2008 witnessed unprecedented forms of gender activism with an upward momentum in the pursuit of women’s rights. The most daring of the young activists who rose to prominence during the past three years are university students in Kyiv. They coalesced into an organization known as FEMEN, and adopted shocking pink as their signature color. 12 FEMEN built upon the growing quest for gender justice inaugurated during the First Wave by the ‘proto-feminists’, but opted for radically unconventional forms of protest. The organizer of these nonconformists is Open World alumna Anna Hutsol. In 2007 she visited Bethlehem, PA on an exchange program for women as leaders, hosted by Northampton Community College. This provided an opportunity to watch American NGOs at work, an experience from which she drew a measure of inspiration when founding FEMEN a year later (Open World, 2008). The main lesson that Hutsol took away from the program was the conviction that if women wanted change, they must take they must take the initiative for bringing it about. 13 They would need to produce a more flexible, more challenging model of protest participation than the previous generation had devised.
As an organization FEMEN has few resources (a few corporate sponsors provide modest funds, which are supplemented by personal donations and sale of souvenirs), no formal administrative structure (except for a five-member board) and an inconspicuous bar tucked away in a courtyard on a side street off Maidan [Freedom Square] serving as a ‘boardroom’. Recently, the leadership moved its operations to a ‘dimly-lit cellar bar’ called Cupidon, where they receive free Internet access, a mailbox and a 10 percent discount on their coffee (Bidder, 2011).
FEMEN’s mantra is ‘Ukraine is not a brothel’. Long-term plans include building a core membership of some 400 exhibiting a fervent social consciousness and leadership skills capable of successfully challenging government malfeasance together with the country’s range of social ills. Hutsol sees the current interest group – this frequently pink-clad brigade of what is described as the most radical feminist movement (they refute the feminist label even as they advocate for gender justice) in Europe today – as a precursor to a formal political organization. Her dream is to found a women’s party, and make it the most influential female political force in all of Europe, but for now Hutsol is concentrating on activism as an effective first step toward building a coalition of women’s rights advocates in Ukraine. 14
A comment from Dorothy L Hodgson and Ethel Brooks, expressed in a different context, captures the spirit of FEMEN’s activities: ‘Images and actions can broaden, complement, enrich, and complicate what cannot be communicated by words alone’ (2007: 17). FEMEN’s participants convey their opposition to the dominant social codes through an array of daringly creative expedients – scandalous demonstrations, bizarre street theater in which role playing simulates physical attacks, rape and exploitation, contentious confrontations with authorities and, lately, ever-increasing political rallies (e.g. Figure 2). More often than not the shocking nature of their maneuvers, particularly the notorious spectacles of near-nudity in the street presentations, is misunderstood, or regarded with suspicion, hence disparaged by many onlookers. But, as Hutsol insists, although the tactics are extreme (and offensive to some), shedding clothes is the most effective way to draw attention to FEMEN’s cause, to inspire the public imagination, promote public discourse about women’s problems, create social connections, develop networks and alliances and mobilize active public support for gender justice. In a word: ‘This realm of play creates a space for interactions with a wide variety of passersby’, and assists in reshaping damaging stereotypes. 15

Rally against prostitution (FEMEN website)
Although FEMEN’s initial protests were directed against the twin evils of prostitution and trafficking in women, the organizers soon added sexual exploitation in institutions of higher education to their agenda. Students, particularly those from provincial universities, had begun to share their chilling stories of coerced sex (sometimes leading to student suicides) in exchange for admission to a university, or in return for government-sponsored stipends, student housing, or decent grades. In a highly publicized drive for accountability and reform, FEMEN’s demonstrators mounted dramatic protests against sexual harassment from ‘sex-for-grades-and-stipends’ college administrators and professors. One of the most startling displays of opposition to the corruption in institutions of higher learning was a near-pornographic ‘theater-of-the-absurd’ staging in front of the Ministry of Education building, featuring the conflict between a determination to learn, and its contemptible price in Ukraine’s institutions of enlightenment – the corrupt academe (Figure 3).

The price of knowledge (FEMEN website)
This particular street performance portrays a student (on the left) in the process of submitting an assignment to her professor, who presents the image of a pimp. Her provocative stance leaves little to the imagination. In exchange for a grade a ‘devil’s bargain’ is being struck. Next to her in the same frame is the image of another student with a dogged resolve to pursue her studies, as she exposes its obscene price. Her discordant attire can also be read as signifying the incongruity between a notoriously corrupt educational system (with sex the medium of exchange), and an earlier era of decency and respect for scholarship. She is wearing a fashionable miniskirt, but it is offset by red boots and a beribboned wreath – classic markers of a single woman’s traditional folk outfit. The garland also signifies a medieval myth of mysterious female powers over men, attributed to legendary wood sprites and water nymphs. 16 Although the student is still in possession of her magical wreath, corruption is clearly threatening both her virtue and her ability to proceed with her education.
The power of politics
Even though initially it was not on FEMEN’s agenda, in time politics became an important target of the women’s opposition to a broken system. To attract the attention of cabinet members, on 19 October 2008 protesters stripped down to bikinis and staged a high-spirited mud-wrestling event in front of the ministerial building (Figure 4). Its purpose was to highlight the dirty nature of Ukraine’s politics.

Protesting against a dirty political system
As FEMEN’s organizers expanded their range of protests, they demanded the repeal of the offensive Article 11, and continued to pressure politicians for an amendment to the Constitution which would criminalize the purchase of prostitutes’ services. Although the previous administration had exhibited a measure of concern for women’s problems, and some of its police force had even offered assistance and advice, by their regressive actions current misogynistic government officials are beginning to make attempts at discrediting the organization. 17 Not unexpectedly, their heavy-handed tactics often prove counterproductive.
Even prior to Ukraine’s runoff presidential election in February 2010, FEMEN protesters demonstrated their well-founded fear of things to come. On the day of the election, they gained access to the polling station where Yanukovych was scheduled to cast his vote, and staged a protest against the corrupt nature of Ukrainian politics. Except for some blue tape crisscrossing their nipples the protesters were naked from the waist up. Polling station workers stared in disbelief as they unveiled placards, concealed under their coats, emblazoned with the words: ‘Don’t sell your vote! Don’t be a slut!’ Then, ‘The politicians are raping us’, shouted out one of their number, while a security man attempted, unsuccessfully for the moment, to evict the demonstrators from the premises. Later, after they had been turned out of the building and were safely out of range of the cameras, the women were arrested, but as one of them declared: ‘All went well. We accomplished what we set out to do’ (Feminist Looking Glass, 2010). Their message received a significant boost as a result of extensive international media coverage.
Yanukovych won the election by a narrow margin (3.48 percent), and lost no time in filling his cabinet with like-minded misogynistic Soviet-era ‘retreads’. He appointed his closest ally, Mykola Azarov (often described as an unreconstructed dinosaur), to the post of prime minister. Both men are guilty of inflammatory sexist comments which violate Ukraine’s constitutional guarantees of equal rights. During the runoff election campaign (between Yanukovych and Tymoshenko), as mentioned earlier, the former was heard to remark that his female competitor ought to indulge her whims in the kitchen, where all women belong. Subsequently, the new Prime Minister Azarov contributed his own judgment of women in leadership positions. When asked why his cabinet was restricted to males, he responded with: ‘Conducting reforms is not women’s business’. Azarov’s comment set off a storm of criticism throughout Ukraine and Western Europe. Women’s organizations and individuals began launching official complaints of prejudice and constitutional violations against Yanukovych and Azarov, while the media stoked the fires with continuous coverage. 18
In response to the corrosive sexist comments by both men, and sensing renewed opposition from newly appointed ministers, FEMEN modified its tactics, temporarily exchanging their ‘trashy’ image for a conservative look. White shirts and earnest-looking grey trousers replaced their customary near nudity when they sought an audience with the new ministers. In contrast to the previous response to its grievances, this time FEMEN confronted a hostile wall of riot police determined to block contact between the two sides. Eventually, the standoff escalated into a shouting and shoving match, with police forcing FEMEN demonstrators to the opposite side of the street, arresting one token protester, and leveling the customary charge of hooliganism.
On 19 March, determined to force reforms by one means or another, FEMEN dissenters changed their tactics yet again. They donned Azarov masks and men’s suits. Brandishing anti-Azarov signs, they exposed their breasts, which featured body paint portraits of Azarov, and moved to storm the ministry. As the ministers began to arrive for their day’s work, the protesters attempted to intercept them. Once again, the police intervened, shoving participants aside, arresting one and charging her with hooliganism. ‘The previous administration never resorted to such tactics’, Anna Hutsol observed later. ‘Then the ministers at least made an effort to hear us out and occasionally even offered suggestions for advancing our mission’, she added (Feminist Looking Glass, 2010).
In two short years, FEMEN had evolved from a women’s rights oriented organization into a radical opposition to what it sees as the new administration’s Kremlin-style tactics. Its public activities now include dramatic protests against the curtailment of free speech and democratic liberties. As revealed in an interview conducted by Davis Ferris (2010), both FEMEN’s influence and profile continue to evolve. Most recently, the group has begun discussing a run for the Ukrainian Parliament. Meanwhile, affiliates of FEMEN are springing up in other Ukrainian cities.
Much of the work under discussion thus far is conducted in Kyiv, the seat of government, but Ukraine can claim many dedicated gender activists in other parts of the country. The city of Kharkiv, for instance, is home to a sizeable number of registered gender organizations. Among their most prominent cultural achievements is the launch in 2008 of Ukraine’s first Women’s Museum. Because the museum is still without a permanent home, in 2009 its founders opened a website to provide a virtual home, an alternative space for airing gender issues. On 2 March 2009 organizers mounted an important and highly successful exposition titled ‘White on White’. The name was based upon an exquisite form of traditional Ukrainian embroidery using white thread on white cloth. Its symbolic significance on this occasion lay in the color white representing women’s historical ‘evolution’ – an absence of color or virtual invisibility. 19
Among FEMEN’s ideological allies are members of Young Rukh (also student-led). Their agenda is not confined to women’s issues, but by embracing democratic principles they advocate for equality of the sexes. As distinct from the tactics employed by FEMEN, Young Rukh pursues more traditional means of opposition. Political rallies are a major part of their agenda. One goal that Young Rukh shares with FEMEN, however, is the hope for a prominent political future, a position from which its members can function effectively to help transform their society into a comprehensive democracy. Before the recent election, Young Rukh members had begun to make substantial inroads into mainstream politics. With the rise to power of the new administration, however, its membership was forced to step back and rethink its strategy. For the foreseeable future tactics are likely to remain confrontational, and a new climb up the political ladder will not be an easy one.
Members of the Women’s Museum have chosen a different, more peaceful path to challenging injustices against women, although as it reveals the historical injustices against women through its displays and exhibitions the goal of resurrecting women’s voices is seen as potentially no less revolutionary in its implications. Much of the work, especially the educational and cultural activities of this second generation of reformers, is an extension of the kind of activities adopted by the earlier proto-feminists during the First Wave of dissent. 20
Can all such youthful protesters successfully join forces in seeking and finding solutions to the nation’s problems? Is the average person capable of appreciating the seriousness behind FEMEN’s excessive tactics, Young Rukh’s protest rallies and political ambitions, or the desire of organizers of the Women’s Museum to assist women in recovering their historically suppressed voices?
Quo vadis?
To sum up, Ukraine’s political landscape is currently being radically transformed in spite of the reactionary government that has recently come to power. The process of challenging ‘the silences and complicities of everyday life’ has assumed new complexities and greater seriousness (Ferris, 2010). Ukraine’s failure to resolve its critical social ills under the previous ‘Orange regime’ brought to the fore two conflicting forces: an administration tending toward a police state; and a postmodern generation of radicalized activists prepared to challenge the creeping authoritarianism of the new regime.
At the end of 2004, in addition to the more mature ‘first generation’ protesters, Ukraine’s Orange Revolution mobilized masses of young people in a collective response to election fraud. In the words of Hodgson and Brooks: ‘Clearly the possible modes and expression of activism . . . depend on the conjuncture of historical moment and geographical place’ (2007: 21–2). Ukraine’s historical moment appeared to arrive with the democratic Orange Revolution, signaling that consolidated democracy was at hand. Yet by early 2010, it was clear that the revolutionary euphoria had dissipated, and the leadership had betrayed its revolutionary charge by indulging in debilitating infighting that brought it down and elevated to power the previously discredited regime of Victor Yanukovych. The country began its distressing backward slide toward the Soviet-style authoritarianism of a police state. Will the present power structure succeed in suppressing the youthful enthusiasm of the Second Wave opposition, and its goal of activating the possibilities for a comprehensive democracy? Or will the new political leaders make the same mistakes that so many repressive regimes have made in the past by overplaying their hand to court the very opposition they seek so brutally to suppress?
On 25 February 2010, Victor Yanukovych, a twice-convicted felon, was inaugurated as Ukraine’s fourth president. Exhibiting an almost pathological fear of public criticism, he and his cronies moved swiftly to restrict public assemblies and muzzle the press, often resorting to brutal police tactics to achieve their ends. Consequently, a peaceful assembly of young people opposing the proposed legislation barring public assemblies without prior government approval brought hundreds of youthful activists to Kyiv’s central square on 17 June 2010 (Peaceful rally . . ., 2010). They did score a temporary victory, but the struggle is far from over.
This rally for freedom of assembly followed on the heels of a FEMEN demonstration on 3 June 2010 against limitations on democratic liberties and freedom of the press. Its protest was timed to coincide with, and comment upon, Yanukovych’s first 100 days in office. The women wore brief stylized versions of SWAT (Security Service) outfits in a demonstration expressing their rejection of the coercive tactics of such official Yanukovych supporters (Demotix News, 2010). On 24 June FEMEN activists struck again. They took to the streets, rallying this time near the once-dreaded Security Service headquarters in protest against the pressure being exerted upon social movements and the media by members of the Service (YankeePhil, 2010).
On 2 July 2010, FEMEN demonstrations assumed a quasi-international color. In a daring breach of protocol a bare-breasted contingent of FEMEN’s women welcomed US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton in Sophia Square, in central Kyiv, on the occasion of her visit to the city. In this semi-nude state, they petitioned her to advocate for women’s rights during her upcoming meeting with President Yanukovych (US Department of State, 2010).
The difference between the first and second waves of resistance is stark. Today’s protests are not the actions of a generation schooled in the old-style authoritarian principles of a once-disgraced regime, which (to borrow a phrase from Brian J Forest, 2010) ‘is stretching its claws to reclaim influence’ 21 but those of a seemingly fearless postmodern generation of young people who have come to adulthood with different life experiences and expectations, a different set of values and solutions to their problems. They know what it means to live without the ideological constraints which regulated the lives of the generation under the earlier authoritarian regime.
At present, neither generation of opponents can claim to have generated a national movement. FEMEN appears to have met the formal criteria for a women’s movement, as described by Carol Mueller: ‘specific individuals must be identified who have formed emotional bonds from their interaction, negotiated a sense of group membership, and made a plan for change . . . [creating] a collective identity’ (1994: 246), but this has yet to translate into a national phenomenon although, as noted above, branches are springing up in other cities. Still, I call attention to the fact that it might be in the vanguard of momentous change. Interaction among the major players in this Second Wave is based upon a shared sense of injustice. Through devices such as special programs, press conferences, slogans, costumes, rallies, political demonstrations, civil disobedience and street theater the radicalized youth is creating a network with the potential for coalescing into a nationwide movement of opposition to the values of a retrograde regime, and a determination never to repeat the history that brought them to such a conflict.
Footnotes
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
