Introduction

Over the past few decades, Ukrainian scholars’ consistent interest in the Soviet satirical and humorous magazines Chervonyi Perets (1922, 1927–1934) and Perets (1941–)¹ has fostered a specialised area of expertise. When it comes to studying Chervonyi Perets, attention is typically focused on the content of its issues from 1927 to 1934 (see, for example, Mykhalevych and Bratus, 2023; Sobokar, 2016; Zhmud and Voynarovskyi, 2025), including Anatolii Kapeliushnyi’s (1986) monograph The satirical magazine ‘Chervonyi perets’. However, researchers have overlooked the two issues of Chervonyi Perets published in April 1922. The difference between the 1922 issues and those published between 1927 and 1934 is significant in terms of the historical, social and cultural context in which they were created. The 1922 issues were produced when the alternatives to the Bolsheviks’ project of the Ukrainian state had failed and been defeated; the Bolsheviks controlled most of Ukrainian territories as the Ukrainian Socialist Soviet Republic; the Bolsheviks had abandoned the War Communism policy and implemented the New Economic Policy; the Indigenization (Korenizatsia/Ukrainization) policy in Ukraine had only just begun to gain momentum; and Soviet Russia sought international recognition for itself and its puppet Soviet republics such as the Ukrainian Socialist Soviet Republic.² These issues were produced at a time when the bloodshed in the war for Ukraine from different sides of confrontation was still fresh in people’s minds. Remnants of some Ukrainian revolutionaries (fighters for an independent Ukrainian national state) were active. Ukrainian peasants and others rebelled against Soviet power. There was a great famine in the Bolshevik-controlled territories. The Bolsheviks continued to fight for territories of the former Russian Empire beyond their control (for example, in Far East Russia). Generally speaking, the 1922 issues of Chervonyi Perets were released when Bolshevik power in Ukraine was still growing stronger.

The 1922 issues of Chervonyi Perets provide valuable insight into who was considered by the Bolsheviks the class enemies (‘enemies of people’) and political opponents of Soviet Ukraine. These issues mirrored the social groups that had already existed in the Russian Empire and were considered remnants of the old order (petit bourgeoise and church people); the social groups that originated in the times of the wars of the Bolsheviks for Ukraine (that is, fighters for the Ukrainian People’s Republic or Ukrainian State of Hetman Pavlo Skoropadsky); and the social groups of the brand new Soviet Ukrainian (quasi)state (bureaucrats, small entrepreneurs, speculators and corruptors). This focus clarifies the ideological targets of Soviet Ukrainian propaganda during this transitional period, underscoring their role in shaping Soviet ideological narratives.

The issues of Chervonyi Perets published between 1927 and 1934 were produced under different circumstances, with the Soviet Union already established and Ukraine integrated into the Union. During this period, the Soviet Union was advancing industrialization and collectivization, reflecting broader policies of economic transformation and ideological consolidation, which influenced the magazine’s themes and tone:

In 1927, the magazine typically featured illustrations on ‘domestic’ themes—illustrations that debunked outdated notions, shortcomings in culture, education, trade and housing construction, as well as cartoons dedicated to specific seasonal phenomena (Kapeliushnyi, 1986: 19).

The 1922 issues of Chervonyi Perets are historical documents of the transitional period in Soviet Ukraine. Appreciating their role as material for studying Soviet Ukrainian satire as Bolshevik propaganda can help today’s readers better understand this complex era. Specifically, this article examines the use of the image of the Zaporizhzhian Cossack as a symbolic figure in Chervonyi Perets (1922). It explains how this image was employed to represent and reinterpret the fighters for Ukraine’s independence (from 1917 to 1922)³ in Soviet Ukrainian satire.

Theoretical Framework and Methodology

I primarily employ the ‘iconological method’ in my research. It should be noted that none of the developers of this method have explicitly described it as a system of clear procedures and rules. In other words, the iconological method is not a set of precise instructions for studying a work of art. The existence of various versions of the method further complicates the situation. For example, Aby Warburg (1866–1929), the creator of the iconological analysis method, believed that iconology was akin to the ‘psychology of human expression’ (Lash, 1996: 90). Godefridus Johannes Hoogewerff (1884–1963) believed that iconography was descriptive, analytical and fact-gathering, while iconology was explanatory, synoptic and exegetical, drawing on the findings of iconography (Lash, 1996: 90). The most well-known version of iconology is that of Erwin Panofsky (1892–1968). I will rely on his version in this study as it provides a comprehensive framework for analyzing symbolic content in art and is particularly suited for interpreting Ukrainian satirical images.

In his works Studies in Iconology (1939) and Meaning in the Visual Arts (1955), Panofsky outlined three levels of interpretation for a work of art. These levels can also be viewed as successive stages of interpretation, each offering a deeper understanding of the work of art. The first level of interpretation is the primary level, also known as the pre-iconographic description. This level is natural because it deals with the primary, immediate impression of a work of art. On this level, the interpretation focuses on what is directly perceived in the work of art: lines, colors, forms of objects and factual subjects (people, animals and objects), as well as their underlying relationships, which are identified as situations or events. Recognizing these levels is essential for systematic analysis of satirical images in Ukrainian culture.

Additionally, expressive subjects are considered, such as ‘strong’ gestures and attitudes, as well as the expression of atmosphere. All of these are considered ‘pure forms’ that carry primary or natural meaning. These forms constitute the world of artistic motifs. To work most successfully at the pre-iconographic description level, one needs solid practical experience and familiarity with objects and events. Pre-iconographic description studies the history of artistic style. It analyzes how different historical conditions shaped the visual forms used to represent specific objects and events (Panofsky, 1962 (1939): 15). Applying this to Ukrainian satirical images requires understanding how visual motifs reflect the cultural and political contexts of the period.

The second level of interpretation is iconographic analysis. On this level, artistic motifs and their combinations can be grouped by themes and concepts, creating a world of figures, history and allegories. Recognition of these motifs requires knowledge of literary sources and familiarity with specific themes and concepts. Iconographic interpretation presupposes a study of the history of types, or insight into how objects and events express specific themes and concepts under varying historical conditions (Panofsky, 1962 (1939): 15).

The third level of interpretation is iconological interpretation. In Panofsky’s early works, this is referred to as iconographic interpretation in the deepest sense (Panofsky, 1962 (1939): 8). Iconological interpretation concerns the intrinsic meaning or content. Artistic motifs, figures, history and allegories are regarded as manifestations and symptoms of fundamental principles in a culture or period. They can be interpreted as what Ernst Cassirer called ‘symbolic’ values (according to Panofsky, 1962 (1939): 8). Works of art thereby become documents of an artistic personality, civilization, or defined religious or philosophical conviction, or more broadly, a document of a specific culture. For this interpretation, the researcher requires ‘synthetic intuition’ (familiarity with the essential goals of the human spirit), which his personal psychology and worldview will inevitably determine, or ‘insight into the manner in which specific themes and concepts expressed essential tendencies of the human mind under varying historical conditions’ (Panofsky, 1962 (1939): 15). Iconological interpretation concerns the history of cultural symbols in Ernst Cassirer’s sense.

As is evident from his use of Cassirer’s terminology, Panofsky drew heavily on Ernst Cassirer’s (1874–1945) philosophy of symbolic forms. Cassirer reinterpreted Immanuel Kant’s critique of reason as a critique of culture, which ‘seeks to understand and show how every content of culture, insofar as it is more than isolated content and is grounded in a universal principle of form, presupposes an original act of the human spirit’ (Cassirer, 1970 (1923): 80). Cassirer’s philosophy of symbolic forms critiques culture by critiquing symbolic forms—specific cultural products such as language, myth, scientific knowledge, religion and art—which are ‘multiple efforts, all directed toward the single goal of transforming the passive world of mere impressions, in which the spirit seems at first imprisoned, into a world that is the pure expression of the human spirit’ (Cassirer, 1970 (1923): 80–81). Cassirer regarded symbolic forms as laws that determine the structures of specific fields of human endeavor and as a necessary constituent factor of the content of particular cultural products (e.g., a particular language, myth, work of art, scientific research, or religion) (Cassirer, 1970 (1923): 80). As a follower of Kant, Cassirer was generally interested in searching for transcendental foundations that unified the diversity of cultural manifestations. In this case, he searched for the transcendental foundations of culture. Cassirer based this search on the premise that humans perceive the world through specific systems of sign and meaning formation, to which symbolic forms belong. These forms are different ways of describing reality that, though not identical, shape or constitute social reality in similar ways.

In this context, Panofsky’s iconology is ultimately focused on symbolic forms and, consequently, on revealing specific ways of describing what shapes a particular social reality. In other words, the ultimate goal of Panofsky’s iconology was to reveal the work of art’s underlying culture. This view of iconology is confirmed to some extent by Panofsky’s work, Gothic Architecture and Scholasticism, in which he demonstrates the highest level of iconological analysis by establishing a direct connection between architectural forms and the thought processes of medieval philosophers (Panofsky, 1951). When studying the image of the Zaporizhzhian Cossack in the 1922 issue of Chervonyi Perets, applying Panofsky’s iconological method entails examining the culture underlying the satirical depictions and revealing how the authors of Chervonyi Perets described reality. Thus, the images published in the 1922 issues of Chervonyi Perets serve as documents of Soviet Ukrainian culture.

It is important to note that scholars currently criticize Panofsky’s iconological method. For example, his adherence to Cassirer’s philosophy of symbolic forms is questioned as philosophical concepts are difficult to verify empirically (Lash, 1996: 91). Beyond that, Cassirer believed that symbolic forms of culture were, to a degree, independent of one another. However, it is quite difficult to draw a clear distinction between art, language and myth (which underlies a particular ideology) in the case of propaganda, for example. Symbolic forms sometimes merge into a single cultural product. In this question, I am on the side of the critics. Furthermore, distinguishing between the pre-iconographic, iconographic and iconological levels of interpretation of a work of art is often quite difficult. In simple cases, distinguishing between these levels is not a major problem. In complex cases, however, separating one level from another is difficult (Rampley, 2001: 304).

In this paper, iconography and iconology (in simplistic form) are applied to satirical images. To clarify the theoretical framework of this study, the definition of satire is grounded in Northrop Frye’s conceptualization. Frye distinguishes irony from satire by arguing that irony pairs realistic content with a concealed authorial perspective. Conversely, satire fuses fantastic content—characterized here by understatement, exaggeration, or hyperbole—with an explicit moral standard and a clearly defined target. Unlike irony, which frequently leaves its object ambiguous, satire is distinct in its refusal to obscure its target. Consequently, the satirist’s chosen target is inextricably linked to the author’s underlying ethical framework (Frye, 1957 (2000): 223–224). Satirical works are specific manifestations of the symbolic art form. This means that satirical work is a concrete way to describe and shape social reality, and that it operates through allegory, correlating what is described or depicted with what exists and evoking specific associations or influencing the satirical work’s consumer. At the same time, the allegory itself is presented in a fantastical form that appeals to a specific standard, example, or pattern. In this context, the satirical cartoons published in the first issues of Chervonyi Perets in 1922 reflect certain moral standards. These cartoons take a critical view of specific social phenomena, events and the people associated with them, thereby influencing the minds of the magazine’s readers.

I have one preliminary note to add. In this paper, I aim to explain how this image was employed to represent and reinterpret the fighters for Ukraine’s independence (1917–1921) in Chervonyi Perets (1922). This involves exploring the meanings that the authors of Chervonyi Perets imbued in their satirical illustrations and texts. It does not involve delving into the magazine’s history or aesthetics, nor does it involve a deep exploration of the history of Ukraine and Russia during that period. Otherwise, no article, no matter how long, could sufficiently achieve the stated goal.

The Iconography/Iconology of the Fighter for the Independence of Ukraine in the First Issues of Chervonyi Perets (1922)

The first satirical image of a fighter for the independence of Ukraine appeared on the cover of the very first issue of Chervonyi Perets (Khvostov, 1922), which was published on 1 April 1922, in the city of Kharkiv (then the capital of Soviet Ukraine). In the center of the cover of this issue is a giant pod of red Bulgarian pepper. The pepper seeds fly out in different directions, like bullets, and hit eleven people. These eleven people scatter in different directions from the flying pepper seeds. The caption indicates that the cover was drawn by an artist hiding under the pseudonym ‘Les’ Khvostov’. The artist’s real name was Alexander Khvostenko-Khvostov (1895–1968).

From the text of the founder and chief editor of Chervonyi Perets, Valer Pronoza (real name: Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny (1894–1925)), one can learn who was depicted on the cover. Here is this text, titled ‘Programnyi’:

Let’s shoot speculators, bribe-takers, bureaucrats, NEPmen, arrogant communists, ‘commissars in galife’, princes of the church, bandits from the high road and the small path, beautiful young ladies and elegant dandies, sour socialists and everything that stinks and carries decay (Pronoza, 1922a).

Ellan-Blakytny announced that the targets of satirical attacks of Chervonyi Perets would be a bureaucrat, a bribe-taker, ineffective officials and managers, also known as ‘arrogant communists’ and ‘commissars in galife’, philistines, such as a beautiful young lady and an elegant dandy; a NEPman, or private entrepreneur; a speculator and a priest. They were joined by the so-called ‘fighters for an independent Ukrainian national state’—a ‘sour socialist’ and a ‘bandit from the wide road and the small path’.⁴

Within this study, I am interested in a ‘bandit from the wide road and the small path’. This bandit is depicted as a man. This man has a long mustache; his eyebrows are lowered and drawn together, creating wrinkles on his forehead; his eyes are narrowed (they seem smaller than usual); his gaze is piercing and hostile; his mouth is open, revealing clenched teeth; that is, his jaw is clenched, but his teeth are exposed (the man is baring his teeth like an aggressive dog); all the muscles of his face are tense, giving his face a harsh and unfriendly appearance. His face shows obvious aggression or some similar emotion. The hands are clenched into fists. All these signs should indicate to the reader that they are looking at a wicked person, a villain.

This man wears a tall, conical fur (karakul) hat, usually with the top turned back and covered with cloth or velvet; the brim is turned up into a palm-wide fur rim, usually with a V-shaped slit in the front. This headdress is called a ‘shlyk’. The man is wearing outerwear with a fitted back, small gathers and wide slits on the sleeves; the sleeves are narrow; the collar is double-breasted and open at the chest. This is a kuntush. Under the kuntush is another piece of outer clothing, fitted, with a gathered back; the hems barely meet. This is a zhupan. All of this is belted with a large belt, called ‘the kushak’. On his feet are trousers, very wide at the hips, often with gathers at the waist and tapering towards the shins. These are ‘sharovary’. On his feet are red boots. On the left side of his belt hangs a saber. In addition, a large butcher’s knife is tucked into his belt on the left, which emphasizes his criminal nature.

The clothing of the depicted man suggests the reader is encountering a stereotypical image of a Zaporizhzhian Cossack, based on a watercolor drawing by Ukrainian artist Serhii Vasylkivsky (1854–1917), a descendant of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks. This drawing was created in 1900 specifically for the album From Ukrainian Antiquity. In the album, this drawing is labeled ‘Colonel of the Registered Little Russian (Malorossia) Regiments’ (Evarnitskii and Vasilkovskii, 1900: 121). Its other name is ‘Colonel of the Registered Left Bank Regiment in kuntush’. Vasylkivsky’s drawing depicts a standing Cossack. He seems to be posing for the portrait artist. The Cossack’s gaze is serious. His right hand is placed on his right side. With his left hand, the Cossack holds the hilt of a saber hanging from his belt on the left. On his head, the Cossack wears a black karakul hat with a hanging blue trim (shlyk), like a Cossack’s ‘oseledets’. The Cossack’s torso is covered with a blue zhupan and over it is a red kuntush. The Cossack’s legs are covered with blue sharovary and black boots. The kuntush and sharovary are belted with a blue belt, into which a pistol is tucked. The viewer of the watercolor painting sees a representative of the Cossack military leadership who commands a regiment of registered Cossacks, that is, Cossacks serving the monarch. This is a representative of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks of the 17th–18th centuries. And this representative is a man of high status in the Cossack hierarchy. In Chervonyi Perets, a high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack is portrayed as aggressive, vicious and villainous.

Significantly, artist Les’ Khvostov draws on the established iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks, placing the recognizable image of a Zaporizhzhian Cossack in a new context and endowing it with a new meaning. The first issue of Chervonyi Perets (1922) contributes to the formation of this new meaning. The cover of the second issue of Chervonyi Perets (1922) and Ellan-Blakytny’s text ‘Programnyi’ complete this formation, portraying the depicted Zaporizhzhian Cossack as a bandit from the wide road and the small path.

On the fourth page of the first issue of Chervonyi Perets (1922), readers will find a thought-provoking satirical cartoon. The author of this cartoon is unknown. The cartoon depicts three people. A huge pot-bellied man in a black tailcoat and top hat; behind him, a tall, thin man in a black tailcoat and top hat with a briefcase in his hands and a small man. The small man is wearing a karakul hat with a hanging brim (shlyk), a zhupan and sharovary. The small man has no boots but there are spurs on his heels. A huge saber hangs down from his left side and essentially drags along the ground. He is kneeling and his posture resembles that of a dog standing on its hind legs, seemingly begging its owner for something. The small man is crying tearfully, while the huge pot-bellied man gestures for the small man to behave himself and obey his elders. Beyond doubt, the reader is presented with a scene of humiliation: big men in fancy suits humiliating a small, barefoot man.

The cartoon is accompanied by text in the form of a dialogue. This text gives an idea of who is depicted in the cartoon and what historical event it is related to. Here is the text:

Petliura: Uncle, let me go to Genoa too.

Poincaré: Take a walk, boy, stay in the forest a little longer. We’ll see: if it’s possible, I’ll call you (Chervonyi perets, 1922: 4).

The large, pot-bellied man in a tailcoat and top hat in the cartoon is Raymond Poincaré (1860–1934), then Prime Minister and Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Third French Republic. The small man, a barefoot Cossack, is Symon Petliura (1879–1925). The historical event depicted here is the Genoa Conference, an international meeting on economic, financial and political issues that was held in Genoa, Italy, from 10 April to 19 May 1922.

The state headed by Symon Petliura—the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic—had already ceased to exist de facto by the time of the Genoa Conference; it existed only in exile. By the launch of the first issue of Chervonyi Perets, the government of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic in exile was planning to send a delegation, headed by Alexander Shulgin, to the Genoa Conference. The delegation’s goal was to raise the Ukrainian question at the conference, that is, the question of the Ukrainian nation-state and its independence. The conference’s organizers, primarily Great Britain and France, were not interested in this issue; they did not even grant the Ukrainian People’s Republic delegation official participant status (Smolii (ed.), 2001: 430). In crux, this satirical cartoon ridicules the whole situation.

One aim of this cartoon is to show the differences between Soviet Ukraine and the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic. The Soviet Russian delegation was officially accepted at the Genoa Conference. It also represented other Soviet quasi-states (Azerbaijan, Armenia, Belarus, Bukhara, the Far Eastern Republic, Georgia, Khorezm and Ukraine). This means that Soviet Ukraine was also recognized as a state. The cartoon shows that the world’s major powers—the victors of the Great War—had not recognized Petliura’s Ukrainian People’s Republic. It seems to show the defeat of the Ukrainian nationalists and the victory of the communists (Bolsheviks) of Soviet Ukraine. For the authors of Chervonyi Perets, this was evidence that the project of the Russian and Ukrainian communists (Bolsheviks) to create an independent Ukraine had triumphed. History has shown that this project was a losing one for Ukrainians, as by the end of 1922, Soviet Ukraine had ceased to be a de jure independent state and had become part of the Soviet Union.

This drawing in Chervonyi Perets, which depicts Petliura as a barefoot Cossack groveling before the French prime minister, not only ridicules the senselessness and futility of the Ukrainian People’s Republic delegation at the Genoa conference but also cements the idea in readers’ minds that figures such as Symon Petliura and other Ukrainian People’s Republic representatives were puppets of Western capitalist countries, such as France and Great Britain. Practically, the Ukrainian People’s Republic was represented not as an independent project of Ukrainians as an ethnic group or nation but as an imported project created by European capitalist countries, such as Austria or Germany. The same applied to Pavlo Skoropadsky’s Ukrainian State. This idea could be partially supported by the history of alternative projects for an independent Ukraine that existed alongside Soviet Ukraine. For example, in February 1918, the Central Rada of the Ukrainian People’s Republic asked Germany and Austria-Hungary for help fighting the Bolsheviks, who were trying to take over Ukrainian territory. In March 1918, German and Austro-Hungarian troops, in reality occupation forces, were deployed to Ukrainian territory. The German troops facilitated Hetman Pavlo Skoropadsky’s military coup and the subsequent establishment of the Ukrainian State (Hetmanate) (see Subtelny, 2009 (1988): 355–356). The Bolsheviks could have used such historical facts to discredit the idea of an independent Ukraine proposed by representatives of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State.

From the perspective of Bolshevik propaganda, the Ukrainian People’s Republic’s attempt to raise the Ukrainian question at the Genoa Conference could be interpreted as France and Great Britain grabbing the project of an independent Ukraine from defeated Germany and collapsed Austria-Hungary. France and Great Britain’s refusal to address the Ukrainian question at the conference could have been used as additional evidence that no independent Ukrainian nation-state project existed. The Bolsheviks ignored the fact that the Ukrainians were attempting to achieve what other nations, such as the Poles and Czechs, had previously achieved. For example, Czechoslovakia was established in 1918 and its borders and state status were formally recognized in the Treaty of Versailles (1919), the Treaty of Saint-Germain (1919) and the Treaty of Trianon (1920). Similarly, Poland was restored as an independent state, and this was formally recognized in the 1919 Treaty of Versailles.

In addition to this satirical cartoon in the first issue of Chervonyi Perets (1922: 4), two other satirical cartoons were intended to reinforce the idea that Ukrainian independence fighters from the Ukrainian People’s Republic were puppets of Western capitalist states. The first cartoon is the cover of the second issue of the magazine (Semyonov-Menes, 1922).

Semyon Semyonov-Manes’ (1895–1982) cartoon shows Raymond Poincaré playing a barrel organ. A German man in a Bavarian costume and feathered hat (Seppel) plays the violin. His boots are worn out. The cartoon plays on the idea that Germany lost the Great War and had to pay reparations. At the Genoa Conference of 1922, the Germans had to cooperate with the victorious nations, such as France, to decide how to pay these reparations. A well-dressed woman runs away and covers her ears at the sound of music. A rooster, a French symbol, sits on the barrel organ and sings with it. A monkey wearing a shlyk and on a chain is in the foreground. It is forced to dance to the music. A man in a caftan and a cap holds the chain. He is a Russian defector and a representative of the White Movement.⁵ A white eagle, likely a Polish emblem, sits on his shoulder. The man in the caftan beats the monkey with a whip.

The illustration was titled ‘The Traveling Troupe (From Genoa to The Hague)’. Below the illustration was the following text—a little poem:

And they sang and danced,

Scaring everyone…

Let’s go, friend, to another yard

To establish peace for all (Semyonov-Menes, 1922).

Similar to the illustration on page four of the first issue of Chervonyi Perets (1 April 1922), this drawing mocks the upcoming Genoa Conference, which would take place in Italy from 10 April to 19 May 1922 and the upcoming Hague Conference, which would take place from 15 June to 19 July 1922. At the Hague Conference, Western capitalist states raised claims against Soviet Russia regarding the nationalization of foreign companies’ property and the nonpayment of the Russian Empire’s debts. The illustration depicts Poincaré; a German; a Russian; Petliura; and others as traveling performers, moving from one courtyard to another—that is, from one conference to another—and putting on theatrical performances. In other words, they create the illusion that they are making serious political—and not only political—decisions. Overall, the drawing seems to convey that the decisions of these conferences posed no threat to Soviet Russia or other Soviet quasi-states. In this way, the Bolshevik authorities used the magazine to prepare readers for the failure of Soviet Russia’s negotiations with major Western capitalist countries.

Semenov-Manes’ cartoon is notable for depicting Petliura not only dancing to the tune of Western capitalist countries, such as France but also as a circus animal owned by the Russians of the White Movement and the Poles. This cartoon portrays Petliura and the government of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic in exile as even more humiliating than in the previous one: in the previous cartoon, Petliura was the lapdog of France and Great Britain; here, he is the monkey of the fugitive Russians and Poles, who serve France, just as Germany does. Most importantly, the Ukrainian People’s Republic is placed in the same row as the White Movement, with the Russians higher in the hierarchy.

Both illustrations aim to dehumanize Symon Petliura, the head of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic in exile and, by extension, all non-Bolshevik fighters for Ukraine’s independence. Moreover, the creators of the images resort to a form of dehumanization common in Soviet propaganda: the animalization of the enemy, ‘the reduction of real or imaginary enemies to a zoological state’ (Brossat, 2000: 265). In the given images, Petliura is animalized in both behavior (e.g., begging like a dog) and physical appearance (e.g., resembling a circus monkey).

The second cartoon is on page eight of the first issue of the 1922 Chervonyi Perets. The artist is unidentified. The cartoon is titled ‘Help for the Starving’. This cartoon is linked to the 1919–1923 famine, a series of famines in territories controlled by the Russian Bolsheviks (Bashkiria, Kazakhstan, Tatarstan, the Urals, the Volga regions, Ukraine and Western Siberia). One of the goals of that cartoon was to discredit international organizations that helped Soviet Russia in the fight against famine.⁶

In the background of the cartoon, cannons are being loaded onto a ship named ‘To the Starving’. Behind it there are two more ships that are already loaded to the top with cannons. Their names are ‘Rescue’ and ‘Help’. In the foreground, Raymond Poincaré is depicted as a large, pot-bellied man in a black tailcoat and top hat, at this point already a stereotypical representation of Poincaré. Also depicted in the cartoon is Uncle Sam, the personification of the United States of America, an elderly white man with delicate features and an old-fashioned beard. He wears a top hat in the colors of the U.S. flag, a blue tailcoat and striped trousers, clearly copied from some American propaganda poster. John Bull, the personification of the British Empire, is also depicted; however, he is depicted in an unusual manner—not as the British usually portray him, as a large, pot-bellied man in a tailcoat, light-colored breeches and a top hat—but rather as a stately gentleman in a green-and-red-striped tweed suit with a tie. He wears a pith helmet, a symbol of colonialism. He leans on a cane.

Unlike the United States and Great Britain, France is not personified. Therefore, in this illustration, Poincaré must compensate for this absence on a symbolic level. As in the other images discussed above, he is depicted as the embodiment of capitalism. Soviet satire employed an image of the typical capitalist, borrowed from American cartoonist Thomas Nast (1840–1902), of a grotesquely overweight man wearing a black tailcoat and top hat. This man symbolized someone who voraciously ‘devours’ the resources, capital and labor of others. This image symbolized the gluttony and unquenchable appetite of capitalism. While Uncle Sam and John Bull were the personifications of the American and British colonial empires, respectively, Poincaré was the embodiment of capitalism.

By portraying the dialogue between France and Great Britain as dismissive of Soviet struggles, the cartoon aims to evoke concern about Western indifference and aggression, emphasizing the threat to Soviet sovereignty.

Poincaré: How strange! We’re striking and striking hard and they’re still screaming for help. Clearly, these Soviet savages are incapable of civilization!

John Bull: Maybe we should try the second construction (Chervonyi Perets, 1922: 8).

The so-called ‘second construction’ of John Bull was the upcoming Genoa and Hague conferences. At these conferences, the Western capitalist countries may have tried to reach an agreement with Soviet Russia.

In the context of this study, the middle panel of the cartoon is of particular interest. It depicts a representative of the Russian White Movement in a green uniform. This figure is clearly modeled after Colonel Anton Denikin (1872–1947), who served in the Armed Forces of Southern Russia from 1919 to 1920. Also depicted is a representative of the Ukrainian People’s Army—a Zaporizhzhian Cossack. This image was copied from the vignette mentioned previously by Serhii Vasylkivsky. The two figures stand together near boxes of cannon shells. Similar to Semenov-Menes’ drawing, this illustration links Ukrainian independence fighters with the Russian White Movement. This cartoon aimed to emphasize that Ukrainians and Russians were merely marionettes of Western capitalists.

The fighters for the Ukrainian People’s Republic were associated with the White Movement for a particular reason. The Bolsheviks used the fact that the Allies (Great Britain, France, the USA, etc.), who intervened in Russia from 1918 to 1920, had treated the White Movement representatives as ‘servile satellites’ and ‘undignified puppets’. This worked against the White Movement. The Bolsheviks appeared more independent and patriotic to the average Russian (Bradley, 1975: 178). Similarly, the Bolsheviks sought to portray the Ukrainian People’s Republic in exile as less independent and, therefore, less patriotic. The memory of those who had fought for an independent Ukrainian nation-state during the Ukrainian Revolution of 1917–1921 was still fresh in the minds of Ukrainians and some remnants of the Directory troops were likely active in Soviet Ukraine.⁷ They also sought to bury any hope that the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, with the help of Western capitalist countries, would recapture Ukraine from the Bolsheviks. The cartoons previously discussed, published in Chervonyi Perets, were intended precisely to discredit those who fought for Ukraine’s independence.

In 1922, Chervonyi Perets, a Soviet Ukrainian magazine, portrayed fighters for Ukraine’s independence (primarily representatives of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, led by Symon Petliura) as weapons of Western capitalist countries (France, Great Britain and the United States) against Soviet Ukraine. Thus, they were depicted as neither independent political forces nor patriots of Ukraine and those fighters were no different from the representatives of the White movement, who were also weapons of Western capitalists against Soviet Ukraine and Soviet Russia.

It is necessary to understand why Symon Petliura and other Ukrainian independence fighters were depicted as high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossacks in the 1922 issue of Chervonyi Perets.

The use of the image of high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossacks to represent Ukrainian fighters for Ukraine’s independence aimed to evoke pride and a sense of cultural connection. First of all, Petliura, in addition to being the second Head of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, served as Chief Otaman of the Ukrainian People’s Republic’s Army from 1918 to 1921. It’s worth noting that in the armies of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State, some ranks replicated those of the Zaporizhzhian Army. Here, one could encounter ranks such as sotnik, khorunzhyi and esaul (all officers were called ‘starshina’). In the Ukrainian People’s Republic Army, a private soldier was called a Cossack and the commander of all troops, the army general, was called the Chief Otaman of the Army. Otaman, as a military rank, was also present in the Legion of Ukrainian Sich Riflemen and the Ukrainian Galician Army (equivalent to the rank of major). Also, in the Ukrainian State, the heads of towns were known as ‘otamans’. Between 1918 and 1921, the word ‘otaman’ was a common feature in the vocabulary of both Ukrainian officials and ordinary citizens, much like the word ‘Cossack’.

In March 1917, a revolution known as the ‘February Revolution’ and the ‘March Revolution’ took place in St. Petersburg (then known as Petrograd) in the Russian Empire. As a result, Emperor Nicholas II of Russia abdicated the throne. A Provisional Government was established. Some Ukrainian soldiers in the Russian army greeted the de facto collapse of the Russian monarchy with enthusiasm. On 27 April 1917, soldiers gathered at a military distribution point in Kyiv and announced the formation of the Bohdan Khmelnitsky regiment. The soldiers were accused of desertion, and the regiment was threatened with dissolution. However, on 18 May 1917, the First All-Ukrainian Military Congress began in Kyiv, and the Russian authorities were forced to recognize the new regiment. During the Congress, the Ukrainian General Military Committee was established as a governing military body. The committee took charge of the Ukrainian military movement. From July to August 1917, three more regiments were formed. Before the Ukrainian Central Rada proclaimed the independent Ukrainian People’s Republic on 7 November 1917, the first Ukrainian Cossack formations began to emerge. Symon Petliura played a significant role in creating these formations (Tynchenko, 2010: 4–5).

Gradually, some units in the Ukrainian People’s Republic Army began to resemble the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks in their uniforms, which included zhupans, sharovary and hats with shlyk. Some fashion trend (‘Cossack’s style’) emerged in late 1917 and 1918: shlyk was a constant attribute of this style (Tynchenko, 2010: 50, 88, 90–91; Tynchenko, 2014: 109). However, it should be noted that not every unit in the army of the Ukrainian People’s Republic wore the Cossack-style uniform; some continued to wear the standard uniform with caps (Tynchenko, 2010: 50).

The organization of the military units of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State along the lines of the Zaporizhzhian Host (Viisko Zaporozhke), as well as the Cossack-style uniforms of certain military units, may indicate three things. First, it may indicate a particular form of Ukrainian self-awareness and the expression of a distinct Ukrainian identity. Second, it may indicate a way for some Ukrainians to distance themselves from the Russian imperialist past and declare the revival of Ukrainian identity based on Cossack traditions. Third, it may indicate a way to emphasize continuity with the Zaporizhzhian Host and the Zaporizhzhian Sich.

Though Petliura played a significant role in creating the first Ukrainian Cossack formations, there is almost no evidence indicating whether he wore a zhupan, sharovary, or a hat with a shlyk. Surviving photographs show that Petliura usually wore a papakha hat, high leather boots, a long coat or a semi-military trench coat, a peaked cap, or a business suit (see, for example, Sergiichuk 2009: 83, 112, 149, 181, 302). However, the famous Soviet cartoonist Boris Yefimov (born Boris Fridland, 1900–2008), who lived in Kyiv in 1918 during the Ukrainian State, wrote the following description:

Accompanied by a snub-nosed entourage, a fussy personality with a yellow-blue bow on his overcoat and a hefty red shlyk on his papakha runs from kuren to kuren. The character shouts various greetings and slogans, often repeating ‘nezalezhnost’ (independence), ‘slava’ (glory) and ‘hanba’ (shame). This is none other than Symon Petliura, a man who went down in the history of the Civil War in Ukraine, leaving behind a long and sordid trail of betrayals, misadventures and bloody pogroms. I curiously examine the shaven, sweaty face of the ‘chief otaman’, his cunning eyes set close to his sharp nose, as if he knows I will have to depict this godless face on posters and caricatures more than once (Yefimov, 2019: 14).

Yefimov accompanied his memoir with a satirical illustration depicting Petliura wearing a papakha, a shlyk, a long overcoat, leather boots and a yellow-and-blue bow. According to Yefimov, Petliura occasionally incorporated elements of Cossack attire into his clothing. For example, he would attach a shlyk to his papakha.

Moreover, in several satirical drawings from 1918, Yefimov depicts the Cossacks of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State as he depicted Petliura in the aforementioned drawing. The Cossacks are consistently depicted wearing long coats and leather boots, with yellow-and-blue bows on their overcoats and papakhas adorned with enormous shlyks (see, for example, Yefimov’s 1918 cartoon ‘Types of Petliurists’ (Yefimov, 1987: 21)). There is a certain uniformity in the depiction of Petliura and the fighters for Ukrainian independence in 1918, similar to that achieved by the authors of Chervonyi Perets in 1922. Both Petliura and the fighters for Ukrainian independence are depicted as high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossacks, making it clear that they are representatives of the same group.

Significantly, in 1918, Yefimov published a series of cartoons titled ‘Who Is Kissing Whom’ in the Russian-language Kyiv magazine Urod, which supported an independent Ukraine. In the cartoons, Symon Petliura, dressed as a high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack, kisses Mikhail Muravyov (1880–1918), commander of the Red Guard and Red Army units of Soviet Russia operating on Ukrainian territory (Yefimov, 1918: 5). The ‘kissing’ is used ironically to mean fighting each other. Yefimov drew upon the stereotypical image of a Zaporizhzhian Cossack, as depicted by Serhii Vasylkivsky, to depict Petliura. Yefimov may have been the first to depict Petliura as a high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack. Incidentally, Les’ Khvostov worked as an artist for Urod at the same time (Zykun, 2016: 97). He might have borrowed the image of a Ukrainian nationalist—a fighter for Ukraine’s independence—from Yefimov.

After defecting to the Bolsheviks, Yefimov began drawing propaganda posters and caricatures for them. He continued to depict military personnel of the Ukrainian People’s Republic dressed as Cossacks, with a hat sporting an exaggeratedly large shlyk being a mandatory feature of these images. An example of this is Yefimov’s 1919 propaganda poster, created under the pseudonym ‘M. Lipskii’, titled ‘The Burlak Masters, or Which Is Closer—Kyiv or Warsaw’ (Lipskii, 1980 (1919): 77), in which a Ukrainian independence fighter was depicted as a Cossack wearing a hat with an enormous shlyk.

This image of a Ukrainian People’s Republic fighter (‘a Petliurist’) was likely adopted by Bolshevik artists and widely used in posters and caricatures. Examples include Nikolay Kochergin’s (1897–1974) poster ‘Ukrainian Miseries’ (1920) (Kochergin, 1980 (1920)) and Viktor Deni’s (Denisov, 1893–1946) poster ‘Executors Torment Ukraine’ (1920) (Deni, 1925 (1920)).

If it is assumed that the first person to depict the fighters for Ukraine’s independence (soldiers and officers of the armed forces of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State) in a caricatured form was Boris Yefimov, then it must be acknowledged that it was Yefimov who laid the foundations of the iconography (depicting Ukraine’s independence fighters as Cossacks wearing hats with shlyks) and that he did so while still a citizen of Hetman Pavlo Skoropadsky’s Ukrainian State. In that case, Les’ Khvostov and other artists of Chervonyi Perets did not invent the caricatured iconography of Ukraine’s independence fighters based on Serhii Vasylkivsky’s vignette but rather drew upon an already established iconography.

In general, the fighters for Ukrainian independence from 1917 to 1921 promoted the image of themselves as high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossacks. However, the Bolsheviks were responsible for their association with bandits (criminals). In the text ‘Programnyi’, published in the second issue of Chervonyi Perets in 1922, the author, Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny, identifies the figure depicted on the cover of the first issue of Chervonyi Perets—a figure who, as had previously been established, represented fighters for Ukrainian independence (primarily representatives of the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic)—as a weapon of Western capitalists against Soviet power. Ellan-Blakytny describes the figure as a ‘bandit from the wide road and the small path’.

The ‘bandit from the wide road and the small path’ is a paraphrase of the Russian idiom ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’, which has two meanings: (1) a bandit who robbed people on the roads (a road robber) and (2) a notorious scoundrel or wicked person. The Russian phrase ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ is a direct translation of the English word ‘highwayman’ (Andreyevsky, Arseniev and Petrushevsky, 1892: 56). There was no equivalent phrase for ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ recorded in Ukrainian dictionaries at that time, such as Boris Grynchenko’s Dictionary of the Ukrainian Language from 1907–1909. It can only be conjectured that Ukrainian speakers who were not well acquainted with Russian culture and language at the time were unfamiliar with this expression and its meanings. Supposedly, Ellan-Blakytny borrowed the ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ from Russian and transformed it into a humorous Ukrainian expression: ‘bandit from the wide road and the small path’, replacing the Russian word ‘razboynik’, rendered in Ukrainian as ‘rozbiinyk’, with the word ‘bandit’.

The reason why Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny replaced ‘razboynik’ with ‘bandit’ is in the Russian Bolsheviks’ propagandistic and bureaucratic vocabulary. If one looks at the official documents of the Bolsheviks compiled between 1917 and 1921, one will find frequent use of the word ‘band (gang)’. For example, there is a collection of documents and materials published in 1967 entitled The Civil War in Ukraine 1918–1920. This collection contains numerous reports from official Soviet figures. For instance, there is a document ‘Communication from the People’s Secretariat of Ukraine on the Advance of German Troops and Haidamaks in the Kyiv and Volyn Regions’, dated February 24, 1918. The author of the statement is Mykola Skrypnyk (1872–1933), People’s Secretary of Soviet Ukraine. It states the following:

German troops are advancing on a broad front. The Haidamak bands of the former Central Rada precede them. The German government has officially announced that German troops are coming to support the Central Rada and liberate Ukraine from the ‘Bolshevik evil’. In short, the campaign aims to establish a bourgeois order here (Skrypnyk, 1967 (1918): 6).

The document mentions the ‘Haidamak bands’ of the Central Rada, i.e., the Haidamak military formations established by Symon Petliura in 1917. Petliura is also mentioned later in this document.

Another document, for instance, is ‘Communication on the resolution of the Konotop peasants’ congress to organize resistance against the German occupiers and the Haidamaks’, dated March 19, 1918 (author unknown). It contains the following words:

The overwhelming majority of delegates fully understood the unfolding events and believed it was necessary to defend Soviet power against the counterrevolutionary Haidamak-Austro-German bands (Soobshcheniye, 1967 (1918): 57).

The discussion in this document has turned to the Haidamaks, Austrians and Germans, whom the Bolsheviks refer to as ‘bands (gangs)’.

These examples show that the word ‘band’ in Bolshevik usage functions as a bureaucratic term, that is, as a word whose use is characteristic exclusively of the norms of communication accepted in the official business style of speech, in this case that of the Bolsheviks.

However, bureaucratic terms are usually words or phrases that tend to deprive style of imagery, emotion and individuality, giving it a neutral, formal and formulaic meaning. And it seems that, in the Bolsheviks’ messages, the ‘band’ is trying to achieve the goals that bureaucratism pursues. Still, the use of the word ‘band’ here also has political, ideological and propagandistic meanings: when the Bolsheviks refer to the military units of the Haidamaks (a military unit of the Army of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, formed in 1917 by Symon Petliura), the troops of Germany, Austria-Hungary and other countries, they thereby want to assert their military-political position and show that only one legitimate authority operates on the territory (in this case, Ukraine)—the Soviet (Bolshevik) one; all others (the Ukrainian People’s Republic, the Ukrainian State, the occupying powers of Germany and Austria-Hungary, Polish army, etc.) are illegal and criminal (bandit) authorities and their armies are simply gangs and the soldiers of these armies are bandits.

In the Bolsheviks’ lexicon, soldiers of the armies of the Ukrainian People’s Republic, the Ukrainian State and the Directory of the Ukrainian People’s Republic are bandits. The authors of Chervonyi Perets adopted the jargon (including bureaucratic jargon) of the Bolsheviks and applied it to describe those who fought for Ukrainian independence. And then there is an interesting conceptualization: the fighters for Ukraine’s independence see themselves as Cossacks (as the successors and continuators of the traditions of the Zaporizhzhian Sich and the Zaporizhzhian Host). At the same time, the Bolsheviks see them as bandits (criminals). The authors of Chervonyi Perets combine all this in their satirical visual images and the following associative series emerges: ‘fighter for the independence of Ukraine—high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack—bandit’. At this point a particular iconography of Bolshevik propaganda visuals and caricatures joins with a particular Russian-language Bolshevik agitation and propaganda discourse: the fighter for the independence of Ukraine, depicted as a high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack, is signified as a bandit (criminal).

To reinforce the associative chain ‘fighter for the independence of Ukraine—high-ranking Zaporizhzhian Cossack—bandit’ in the minds of Ukrainian-speaking readers of Chervonyi Perets, editor Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny published a poem entitled ‘Longing for the Native Land. (To an Old Tune)’. The first stanza of this poem is as follows:

In the camp, exiles! – bandits

Quietly talking. –

Their hands are washed with blood

Their feet groan, hum…

And the first one said: – ‘Brother,

What are we going to do now?

We’re in deep trouble

Defending the Ukrainian People’s Republic’ (Pronoza, 1922b: 13).

Further on in the poem, figures from the Ukrainian People’s Republic are mentioned, such as Symon Petliura, Mykhailo Hrushevsky (1866–1934) and Volodymyr Vynnychenko (1880–1951), who fled Ukraine, abandoning Ukrainian People’s Republic supporters to their fate. Also, the poem contains negative statements about the Ukrainian State of Hetman Pavlo Skoropadsky.

Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny’s text makes it clear that those who support the Ukrainian People’s Republic and the Ukrainian State, that is, an independent Ukrainian nation-state, are bandits (criminals). To reinforce this image, the poem’s text is accompanied by a drawing (the author of which could not be identified) depicting two people dressed as stereotypical Zaporizhzhian Cossacks (with shlyks, kuntush and sharovary) allegedly conversing in the form of the poem. These two ‘Cossacks’ from the Ukrainian People’s Republic have butcher knives behind their belts and aggressive grins on their faces.

What is important in this drawing and the image of a bandit on the cover of the first issue of Chervonyi Perets is that the ‘Cossacks’ are depicted with aggressive faces and butcher knives. The authors do not simply ridicule the fighters for the independence of Ukraine by caricaturing them but demonize them, portraying them as villains. The image of fighters for the independence of Ukraine as Zaporizhzhian Cossacks and bandits combines both satire (ridicule as a derogatory denunciation with the aim of discrediting) and demonization (propagandistic portrayal of someone as a villain), which together (humiliation and demonization) lead to the dehumanization of the enemy. This type of image evokes contempt or fear in the viewer, depending on whether they focus on its demeaning or aggressive aspects. In other words, the purpose of these images is to make the average Ukrainian reject those who fight for Ukraine’s independence. The average Ukrainian should not sympathize with, help, or side with these fighters, nor should they rise against Bolshevik authority.

During the Bolshevik occupation of Ukraine from 1918 to 1921, the word ‘bandit’ was often used alongside ‘ataman’. For example, there is a leaflet in which the words ‘razboynik’ (more precisely, the derivative ‘razboinichiy’), ‘bandit,’ and ‘ataman’ appear together. The leaflet is titled ‘On the Atamans of Large and Small Robber Bands: Petliura, Zeleny, Mazurenko and Sokolovsky’. The text of the leaflet begins as follows:

In every district, in every city and in every village, there is an ataman. In one corner, Petliura operates; in another, Zeleny; in a third, Sokolovsky; in a fourth, Mazurenko. And so on, endlessly and without number. Every ataman has his own band and territory (Ob atamanakh, 1919).

This quote states that certain atamans, such as Petliura, Zeleny, Sokolovsky and Mazurenko, lead gangs (bands). The leaflet’s title suggests these gangs (bands) should be considered robber gangs. The leaflet provides the understanding that the Bolsheviks’ criticism was directed at other atamans, such as Symon Petliura, Zeleny (real name: Danylo Terpylo, 1886–1919), Dmytro Sokolovsky (1894–1919) and Yuri Mazurenko (1984–1937).

The word ‘ataman’ / ‘otaman’ has semantic differences in Russian and Ukrainian. Boris Grynchenko’s Dictionary of the Ukrainian Language (1907–1909) records the use of the Ukrainian word ‘otaman’ in two meanings: 1) otaman is the commander of an army, probably Cossack; 2) otaman is generally any commander of any enterprise organized by a group of people (Grynchenko, 1909: 1628).

It is now necessary to consult explanatory dictionaries of the Russian language. Mikhelson’s Explanatory Dictionary of Foreign Words (1898) offers the following interpretations of the word ‘ataman’: ‘1) Commander of the Cossack army; 2) Leader of a band of robbers’ (Mikelson, 1898: 93). In A. N. Chudinov’s Dictionary of Foreign Words (1894), one finds the following meanings for the word ‘ataman’: ‘1) Chief commander of the Cossacks; 2) Leader, head of a band of robbers’ (Chudinov, 1894: 129). Two Russian dictionaries listed ‘ataman as the leader of a band of robbers’ as one of the explicit meanings of the word ‘ataman’ in Russian; in Ukrainian, such an explicit meaning was absent. If desired, it was possible in Ukrainian to depart from the meaning of ‘otaman as a leader’ and speak of ‘otaman as the leader of a band of robbers’ but doing so required some effort on the part of Ukrainian speakers.

A comparison of the meanings of the ‘ataman’ and ‘otaman’ in Ukrainian and Russian, at least at the beginning of the 20th century, may indicate differences in how Ukrainians and Russians perceive the world. For Ukrainian speakers, ‘otaman’ primarily means the leader of the Cossack army and only then the leader of any group of people. The concept of ‘otaman’ is generalized from the leader of the Cossack army or the army in general to the leader of any organized group of people. For Russian speakers, ‘ataman’ is the leader of the Cossack army and the leader of a gang of robbers, the chief bandit. The ataman of the Cossack army is identified with the leader of a band of robbers and the Cossacks themselves with robbers and bandits. This is probably because Russian speakers, unlike Ukrainian speakers, often viewed the Cossacks, whether from Zaporizhzhia or the Don, as robbers and bandits who either raided Russian speakers or were mercenaries. At the beginning of the 20th century in the Russian Empire, the Don Cossacks dispersed demonstrations and escorted prisoners, which clearly did not endear them to ordinary Russians.

Overall, given the specific usage of the word ‘ataman’ / ‘otaman’ in the Russian and Ukrainian languages at that time and the absence of the words ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ in the Ukrainian vocabulary at that time, it can be assumed that, for Russian speakers, the association between ‘ataman’ and ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ was natural because ‘ataman’ could be a leader of ‘razboyniki s bol’shoy dorogi’. For Ukrainian speakers, however, this associative chain was unnatural and required a certain mental effort and a good knowledge of Russian. A Ukrainian speaker could recognize that the phrase ‘razboynik s bol’shoy dorogi’ referred to a certain type of robber. Still, they could not grasp the connotation of ‘notorious scoundrel’ or ‘wicked person’. And they were not familiar with the connotation of ‘ataman’ as ‘leader of robbers or bandits’.

Significantly, the Russian language, as a certain linguistic picture of the world at the beginning of the 20th century, suggested viewing the ataman as the leader of bandits, as the chief bandit, a robber. Presumably, the confusion of two meanings of the word ‘ataman’ in the Russian language (ataman as the head of the Cossacks and ataman as the leader of bandits) was the basis for reinforcement of the following associative series: ‘a fighter for the independence of Ukraine—a (high-ranking) Zaporizhzhian Cossack—a bandit’. At this point, the Russian linguistic worldview invaded the Ukrainian linguistic worldview (the authors of Chervonyi Perets attempted to impose a new meaning on the word ‘otaman’ in Ukrainian) and imposed the Russian worldview on Ukrainians. Perhaps the above associative series would not have been possible if the authors of Chervonyi Perets had not been fluent in both Russian and Ukrainian and had not been strongly influenced by the Russian-speaking Bolsheviks.

Conclusion

According to Panofsky’s iconology, works of art can be viewed as cultural products of a specific era and as historical documents. The satirical images and texts in the 1922 issues of Chervonyi Perets are no exception. The depictions of Ukrainian independence fighters (primarily those led by Symon Petliura) as bandits dressed in Zaporizhzhian Cossack attire constitute historical evidence of how the Bolsheviks portrayed those fighters at the time. Originally, such depictions were simply satirical portrayals mocking certain members of the Ukrainian People’s Republic and Ukrainian State military formations whose uniforms incorporated elements of Zaporizhzhian Cossack attire. The existing iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks was overlaid on this (an outstanding example of this is Serhii Vasylkivsky’s vignettes from the album From Ukrainian Antiquity). The iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks and the uniforms of Ukrainian independence fighters were combined into a single caricature. According to my conjecture, Boris Yefimov first presented this image. There was a borrowing and a distortion of the iconography for satirical and other purposes. In this case, the iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks was ridiculed.

Bolshevik artists popularized the iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks, reinterpreted in a satirical vein. Satirical depictions of Ukrainian independence fighters as Zaporizhzhian Cossacks in Chervonyi Perets serve as evidence of this practice. The iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks was reinterpreted and overlaid with the Bolsheviks’ Russian-language discourse. Within this discourse, fighters for Ukrainian independence, especially those led by Symon Petliura, were portrayed as bandits and common criminals who opposed the Bolsheviks’ ‘legitimate authority’ in Ukraine. Satirical depictions of Ukrainian independence fighters as Zaporizhzhian Cossacks in Chervonyi Perets illustrate this superimposition—the fusion of the distorted, ridiculed iconography of the Zaporizhzhian Cossacks and the Russian-language Bolshevik discourse. This discourse was ‘translated’ into Ukrainian, enriching the language with new meanings for existing words, such as ‘otaman’, meaning ‘gang leader’. This constituted an intrusion of the Russian-language Bolshevik worldview into the Ukrainian-language worldview, or the Bolshevization of the Ukrainian worldview through a language. Ukrainians themselves, such as Vasyl’ Ellan-Blakytny, the founder of Chervonyi Perets, played a significant role in this process.

The aim of the iconography, based on the following associative series: ‘a fighter for the independence of Ukraine—a (high-ranking) Zaporizhzhian Cossack—a bandit’, was to discredit and dehumanize (humiliate and/or demonize) the fighters for the independent Ukrainian nation-state. All of this was part of Soviet Ukrainian culture, which was beginning to take shape.

Competing Interests

The author has no competing interests to declare.