Libraries all over Europe have been striving to open 20th- and 21st-century texts in digital format to the general public; unfortunately, they keep facing copyright restrictions and other issues. The EODOPEN project, uniting 15 European libraries, aims at digitising and opening up fifteen thousand documents and literary creations from the 20th and 21st century for European Netizens. As one of the participants, Vilnius University Library digitises books of University’s scientists published by Vilnius University Press. We talked to Alfredas Bumblauskas, a professor at Faculty of History, who kindly opened some of his work to everyone.
Your book “Lietuvos Didžioji Kunigaikštija ir jos tradicija” (Grand Duchy of Lithuania and Its Tradition) will be digitised and available to everyone online. This book sort of summarises your research. What is its audience?
My book is not purely academic – it’s something between a monograph and popular science. It’s dedicated to a reader with a higher education, a reader that somewhat cares about deeper insights into history, not just reading quickly.
Is the history of Grand Duchy of Lithuania (GDL) still a matter of relevance on an international scale, as you wrote in the preface of this book?
If we stop dividing everything according to the national ‘schools’, a goal for mutual action arises. One could even say that GDL grows more relevant internationally day by day. Professor Rimvydas Petrauskas, the new rector of Vilnius University, is a big proponent of this point of view. There is a wide circle of historians researching GDL, ranging from France, United Kingdom, and Germany to Russia – not to mention our neighbours from Poland, Belarus and Ukraine.
When you started the TV programme “Būtovės slėpiniai” with Professor Edvardas Gudavičius, did you feel any pressure in regard to your sceptical approach towards the exaltation of personality of Vytautas the Great in the interwar period as well as the critique of national school of historians?
More and more I notice myself using the phrase Ghost of Smetona that weighs on the subconscious of researchers. The general public often uses formulae forged during the conflict with Poland for capital Vilnius, which distorts the dimensions of Lithuanian history. It is because of that, as Gudavičius used to say, that Jogaila is condemned to hell, while Vytautas is lifted up to heavens. The professor’s maxim was to ground them both. We tried to realise this maxim in our programme, and as to the result of that, one can judge on both praise and complaints from the viewers. Gudavičius liked his biting remarks and would occasionally say something like that about Vytautas – or about Lithuanians in general. If I remember correctly, someone raised a stink when professor called Lithuanians a nation of slackers. But we often say “this is Lithuania, after all” as an outrage, in cases where we want to curse it out. Recently Tomas Bartnikas and I came up with the idea of a tick being the national bird of Lithuania. Some people were quite offended, but I think it’s very apt and funny. The concept of Smetona’s ghost I forged (created) in example of the famous Polish thinker Jerzy Giedroyc, who, having spent his whole life in Polish exile in France, not so far from Paris, preserved an independent line of thought, different from the emigrant Polish government in London or the USA. Giedroyc often said that there are two caskets reigning above Poland. I wished not to use such a comparison for Smetona, as his life ended so tragically, so I chose ‘ghost’. This idea was praised by Adam Michnik, Polish journalist and editor-in-chief of Gazeta Wyborcza. I told him, tongue-in-cheek, that Poles are richer, for they have two caskets, whereas we only have the one. After his compliment I started using this comparison more often, as Adam Michnik is a legend of Solidarność. He was the intermediary between the Polish public and Jerzy Giedroyc. It is he to whom we must be thankful that Poland refused their pretence to Eastern territories. After all, right after the Act of March 11, at the start of May, Polish government-in-exile in London proclaimed that the eastern borders of legitimate Poland are based on the ones drawn in 1921 under the Treaty of Riga, which for us meant a Lithuania without Vilnius. Then we needed Giedroyc, who Timothy D. Snyder called a phenomenon of Easter Europe. It was the opinion of Giedroyc that Poland needs to have friendly neighbours, which meant Lviv as part of Ukraine, Grodno as part of Belarus, and Vilnius as part of Lithuania. It was absolutely ground-breaking. This untraditional attitude was shocking, and the Lithuanians’ inability to appreciate the revolution Giedroyc started in geopolitical thinking can still be felt, even though there were suggestions to build a golden statue in his image in Vilnius – in jest, of course. We could say that Giedroyc was the first person to give Lithuanians a moral right to Vilnius – before him we were condemned by international diplomats for being unable to compromise with Poland and blaming the Poles. However, our critical relationship with history has parallels elsewhere; Giedroyc’s followers in Poland are equally sceptical toward the narrative of Polish nationalists.
Do you think that our approach to our own past has changed? Or have we remained nationalistic, in favour of Lithuanian virtues only?
Until a national state exists, nationalism will exist in some form or another, because people will keep searching for expressions of identity. But what is Lithuanian essence in the context of Europe? Nerija Putinaitė has authored a book called “Trys lietuviškosios Europos sampratos” (Three Conceptions of Lithuanian Europe), where we see that ethnonationalism – not political, not liberal, but traditional – is dominating the elite. But conceptions are slowly changing, and the attitude to the 17th–18th centuries is changing, as well. Manor culture is growing alongside ethnovillages like Rumšiškės. I think a lot of that has to do with novels of Kristina Sabaliauskaitė. So I would say that we are approaching a freer, more European understanding of what it means to be a Lithuanian. But the old ideals are still holding fast.
In 2017, Bank of Lithuania released Franciscus Skorina commemorative coin with Cyrillic script; 2021 will be the Year of the Constitution of 3 May 1791; and very recently the concept of the ‘Lublin Four’ – a forum of Polish, Lithuanian, Ukrainian politicians and Belarus NGOs – was adopted (while the military brigade of Ukrainians, Poles and Lithuanians already exists since 2015). So, everything is changing: during the interwar period we were completely alone – even Latvians avoided us due to Vilnius conflicts – and now we have 30 friends. Everything changes, and the old generation will have to get used to the fact that the formulae we came up with in the 1930s during the war with Poland are now expired, and we need to cooperate and coexist strategically.
Does our common history with Poland and Belarus unite us or divide us? Do you think Belarusians see us as their people, or rather as outsiders?
There is no singular answer – I guess it depends on the type of Lithuanians and the type of Belarusians. The understanding of Belarusian identity has also changed a lot. In the beginning, the opposition front was dominated by an absolute appropriation of Lithuanian history, which is now changing for the better. Lithuanians would also behave strangely quite often – they would stigmatize Belarusians and refuse to acknowledge their influence.
For example, Sapiehas hailed from Belarus, even though one could argue there was no Belarus as such at that point in time. Norwegian linguist Christian Schweigaard Stang determined that at first Vytautas’ office was dominated by Ukrainian language (Volhynia), which later switched to Belarusian (Novogrudok, Polock, Grodno). In a way, we offended Belarus by forgetting that there is no single sentence in Lithuanian in the Lithuanian Metrica. We called the language Chancery Slavonic (of GDL Slavs) – a term panned by Professor Gudavičius, as the language was used not only in GDL, but in Poland, as well; and, as Poles are Slavic, the definition becomes incorrect. The language was not used only in office, but in poetry, as well. However, the attitude of Lithuanians is slowly changing. At first everyone was outraged that Belarusians are stealing our history. I say, however, that they have been part of our history for a long time. In 1924, if I recall correctly, the Belarusian husband of writer Marija Lastauskienė appeared in Russian Embassy in Kaunas and proclaimed that Lithuanians are living with stolen passports. Even then there was discourse that they – Belarusians – are the real ‘litovcy’. Lithuanians calmed down a bit recently and the monument to Vytautas in Vitebsk has been erected for a few years now – quite a good one, too, and in a nice location. There is another monument in Lida, this one dedicated to Gediminas, but I haven’t seen that one yet. There are plans for another one in Novogrudok, a statue of Mindaugas. Belarusians are laying claim to these rulers, and Lithuanians might not like it, bet Belarusians think they were their rulers, as well. We should rejoice, I think, that they do not reject the idea of Lithuania and respect our sovereigns. A more interesting notion is that the chancery documents transcribed by Belarusian and Ukrainian monks helped them to advance their careers. That’s how we got Sapiehas and all the others. Until we Lithuanians can see this clearly, we will not find common ground with Belarusians.
The present-day events in Belarus seem to allow us a more peaceful look to our common history and show kindness in sharing it.
Is the historical narrative in regard to GDL changing elsewhere – in Poland, Ukraine, and Belarus – as it does here?
We covered Belarusians, but, speaking of Ukrainians, there was quite a contribution made by us historians, as well. The concept of “Lithuanian epoch” has appeared in the Ukrainian school curriculum. Not a lot of countries remember Lithuania in such light. Gediminas began the Lithuanian rule in Kiev, and Ukrainians have a favourable outlook towards that period, especially in regard to Vytautas. Meanwhile, all Polish experts of Lithuanian history follow Giedroyc’s ideas. I came to this conclusion in Polish historian congress, which took place in Krakow. Everyone there understood that GDL is a historical subject. This paradigm shift made us many friends among Polish specialists of Lithuanian history, and we may have a pleasant intercourse. The domination of Polish culture in the 19th–20th centuries will probably never be appreciated by neither Lithuanians nor Ukrainians. The Poles actually admit that they should not pride themselves in this fact, as it would denote a sort of cultural imperialism.
Polish formulae in the context of the 19th–20th centuries are not fully appreciated yet.
Europeanisation, globalisation, modernisation – are we sure these processes will not destroy our individuality? Or maybe it is not so important anymore? Maybe this isn’t even a question for historians to answer?
Not just for historians, but they are part of it. Vytautas Radžvilas posits that Europeanisation is the greatest problem and drama of Lithuanian history, and I oppose his position. The conception presented by my teacher Edvardas Gudavičius essentially states that Lithuania needed to make a sudden jump from pagan isolation to European society, which can already be seen in the junction of the 15th and 16th century. It became especially clear in the first half of the 16th century, with the Lithuanian Statute and ideas of Reformation started by Abraomas Kulvietis – and all of it was crowned by Jesuits establishing Vilnius University. From this point of view Europeanisation is not a problem, but a benefit to Lithuania. We also had 400-year-long handicap to become a civilised nation of Europe, as opposed to Poland, Czech Republic or Hungary, so we had less time to learn to write in our native language. Lithuania voluntarily became a nation of Vytautas’ scribes who wrote in Chancery Slavonic, but switched to Polish in 1697. For us, Europeanisation meant becoming closer to Poland, but not Polonisation, as there was no coercion. Their language was used by elites – in churches, manors. In that sense, Lithuanian history is similar to the historical curves of Ireland, a similarity which is undeservedly overlooked. Lithuania was left with the revolution of 1920, a revolution which was in part agrarian, made possible by confiscating manors from Polish native speakers and establishing Lithuanian as an official language of the state. Kaunas feared for Vilnius at the time, where Lithuanians were a minority, constituting just 2 per cent of the town’s population.
Europeanisation is a problem only when there is no counterbalance. I myself am not a great fan of globalisation – there is too much English and too many non-Lithuanian signboards, and not enough modernisation. Modernisation equals cities, and there is too much country still in Lithuania. Being openly Lithuanian in modern Europe will not destroy our individuality – it will help us survive, but only if we stop following out-dated formulae.
Are you a proponent of EODOPEN project? Do you agree with the initiative to open your body of work to everyone?
More people reading is in all of our interest. There is another book, this one in Polish – “LDK: bendraistorija – padalintaatmintis”(GDL: common history – divided memory) – which I wrote on the basis of the book concerned. Maybe it would be wise to make it available to a Polish reader and digitise it, if there is such an option in the project.
What are the topics of greatest interest and/or relevance to you currently? What are your pursuits and plans for the future?
My son and I are working on the second chapter of Lithuanian history – it’s a book targeted at adolescents. We plan to discuss the 19th and 20th centuries there. The book “Lietuvos Didžioji Kunigaikštija ir jos tradicija” was my first serious attempt to manage the history of the 19th and 20th centuries from the point of view of GDL tradition. Unfortunately, it is not enough nowadays. At some point in time, according to Professor Alvydas Jokubaitis, Lithuania separated from GDL and fell out of love. If we did love it, we would not raise the tricolour on 6 July, we would not extend it on Palanga Bridge. These are the colours of a new Lithuania and they have nothing in common with the old history.
The digital version of Bumblauskas’ book “LietuvosDidžiojiKunigaikštijairjostradicija” can be found in Digital Collections page of Vilnius University Library or by clicking this link.
Nijolė Bulotaitė