{"id":368,"date":"2025-07-10T16:32:08","date_gmt":"2025-07-10T13:32:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/?p=368"},"modified":"2025-08-09T12:39:09","modified_gmt":"2025-08-09T09:39:09","slug":"rozdil-2-sich-derzhava-voyiniv-i-volnyh-lyudej","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/kozaczka-doba-ta-getmanshhyna\/rozdil-2-sich-derzhava-voyiniv-i-volnyh-lyudej\/","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 2. Sich \u2014 a state of warriors and strong-willed people"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

\u2694\ufe0f The one who is held in the arms<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h1>\n

The sun had not yet risen above the towers of the Sich when the square was already buzzing.<\/span><\/span> In the eyes of the old Cossacks there was vigilance.<\/span><\/span> In the eyes of the young ones there was excitement.<\/span><\/span> No campaigns were scheduled for this day.<\/span><\/span> On this day, the power was decided.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

There was morning fog over the river, the smell of fish, burnt tar and men’s sweat.<\/span><\/span> The huts were lined up in a semicircle, from the Church of the Intercession to the cauldrons, where half-eaten dumplings were still smoking.<\/span><\/span> In the middle of the square was a log.<\/span><\/span> Yesterday someone was sitting on it in chains.<\/span><\/span> And today the one they chose would fly off it.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 So, gentlemen, who are we going to raise?!<\/span><\/span> \u2014 shouted Slivenko from the Kaniv kuren, bearded, with a voice like a gun.<\/span><\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\u2014 And not the one who climbed into the taverns drunk yesterday?!<\/span><\/span> \u2014 someone threw back, and the square burst into laughter.<\/span><\/span><\/div>\n
\n

The elections in the Sich are not a ceremony.<\/span><\/span> They are a duel of authorities, silent reputations, and the power of the gaze.<\/span><\/span> No one is campaigning.<\/span><\/span> No one is persuading.<\/span><\/span> Everything is decided in the language of respect that has been built over the years \u2014 with a sword, a saber, a word.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Or maybe Peter again?<\/span><\/span> \u2014 said someone from Umansky.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 But Peter is good\u2026 but in battle he\u2019s like a pumpkin.<\/span><\/span> And what\u2019s the point of being literate?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Silence.<\/span><\/span> Then someone steps forward loudly.<\/span><\/span> Stepan Lytvyn.<\/span><\/span> He does not take out his saber without need, but when he does, he does not hide it.<\/span><\/span> He stops silently before the council, looks – and says nothing.<\/span><\/span> For what can one say who has already said everything through the example of his life?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And then the movement begins: heads tilt towards Stepan.<\/span><\/span> The first kurin \u2014 Lubensky \u2014 stands up for him.<\/span><\/span> The second \u2014 Pereyaslavsky \u2014 is silent.<\/span><\/span> The third \u2014 Platnytsky \u2014 also follows him.<\/span><\/span> Then \u2014 more, and more…<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

In Sich, they didn’t count votes – they counted backs.<\/span><\/span> Who was behind whom?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

And now – when the majority has already decided – four people break through with the group, pick up Stepan in their arms and lift him above their heads three times.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Glory to the Kosh Ataman!<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Glory!<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Dust flies from under the newly elected man’s feet.<\/span><\/span> Someone throws a red belt over him.<\/span><\/span> A priest comes out from the side of the church, and the boys are already leading Stepan to the Intercession.<\/span><\/span> There he will kneel \u2014 not only before God, but also before the Sich, which has now entrusted him not just with a mace, but with itself.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Historical

Image of a Cossack council where the chieftain is elected<\/p><\/div>\n

<\/h2>\n

\ud83c\udf3e After the elections \u2014 not a throne, but responsibility<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

Unlike the tsars, the ataman did not sit on the throne.<\/span><\/span> He went around all the kuren on horseback, personally greeting each ataman.<\/span><\/span> He had the appearance not of a victor, but of a servant in an iron shirt.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Hut after hut gave him glances\u2014attentive, measured.<\/span><\/span> Each one contained a hidden promise:<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“You will lead – we will go. You will betray – you will fall.”<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

In the Sich, the ataman is not power, it is a test of a person’s courage and decency.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\ud83d\uded6Kurin: brotherhood without blood, but with an oath<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 The Cossack hut smells of wood, lard, smoke, and sweat.<\/span><\/span> The silence here is not from emptiness, but from fatigue.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

After the elections, life returns to its usual rhythm.<\/span><\/span> The huts, like beehives, come to life before dawn.<\/span><\/span> Each one contains 100\u2013200 men.<\/span><\/span> Some are praying.<\/span><\/span> Some are dozing under a bench, hugging a saber.<\/span><\/span> And somewhere a cauldron is already heating up \u2014 kulish, lard, a clove of garlic, and a handful of Cossack jokes for a snack.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Inside the hut is one large room, lined with boards.<\/span><\/span> Along the walls are wooden bunks.<\/span><\/span> In the center is a hearth, and above it is a cauldron.<\/span><\/span> Near the entrance is a chest with gunpowder, weapons and money.<\/span><\/span> Next to it is the hut chieftain.<\/span><\/span> Not the owner, but the father, who listens to quarrels, excuses, songs and confessions every evening.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Wooden

Wooden Cossack hut<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\ud83e\uddd3 Kurinny: not a king, but a shadow government<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n
\n

He is not feared for his strength, but for his memory.<\/span><\/span> Because he remembers who lent whom a gun, who climbed into the Tatar woman’s house at night in the swamps, who fell in battle, and who pretended to be dead to escape.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 Peter, where was your saber when your brother called you to battle?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The chieftain doesn’t shout.<\/span><\/span> He just looks.<\/span><\/span> And in that look is the entire punishment, which is more terrible than a whip.<\/span><\/span> Because if he says: “I don’t believe” – they will stop drinking with you, sleeping next to you, and sharing bread.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/h3>\n

\ud83e\udd1d How they became \u201ctheir own\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n

In the Sich, every newcomer passed a test without words.<\/span><\/span> First, you keep quiet when they joke.<\/span><\/span> Then, you keep quiet when they drink and sing.<\/span><\/span> And then, you speak your mind when it would be a sin to keep quiet.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

And if your word shoots as accurately as your gun, you’re no longer a novice.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

\u2014 Whose are you?<\/span><\/span> \u2014 someone asks.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

\u2014 No one\u2019s.<\/span><\/span> I came myself.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

\u2014 Well, then sit next to me.<\/span><\/span> We\u2019ll see what happens to you<\/span><\/span><\/span>.<\/em><\/p>\n

And now someone is giving you a spoon.<\/span><\/span> Someone is giving you a piece of lard.<\/span><\/span> And at night, for the first time, you sleep in the same house with those who will go to their deaths with you tomorrow.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/h2>\n

\u2694\ufe0fMistakes, quarrels, revenge and forgiveness<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

Cossacks are not saints.<\/span><\/span> Sometimes there is a cry in the hut.<\/span><\/span> Someone called someone a “traitor”, someone did not share the stolen silver.<\/span><\/span> But the worst thing is an insult without an apology.<\/span><\/span> Because an insult here is like a crack in a seagull: it is not visible, but it will drown everyone.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

If the quarrel drags on, the chieftain takes both of them and says:<\/span><\/span><\/span>
\u2014 Now come out.<\/span><\/span> With a saber.<\/span><\/span> One blow is enough.<\/span><\/span> Or embrace.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

And then two big men come out.<\/span><\/span> One swings his saber \u2014 above his shoulder.<\/span><\/span> The other \u2014 in the stomach.<\/span><\/span> But the blow doesn’t reach.<\/span><\/span> They look each other in the eyes \u2014 and laugh.<\/span><\/span> And then someone from the hut shouts:<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014 But look, two roosters, but they eat only one piece of fat!<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

And again the evening, and again the song, and no one remembers what started the quarrel.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

<\/h2>\n

\u26ea A covering over the head and punishment under the feet<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0On the day of the great battle, when the sky was burning and sabers were already touching bodies, one of the Cossacks said: “Do not be afraid, brothers. Today is the Intercession. And the Mother will not let us fall.”<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

There was no theater, school, court, or shelter in the Sich.<\/span><\/span> But there was a church, and that was enough.<\/span><\/span> It stood in the very heart, sheathed in pine, with a simple iconostasis and three domes \u2014 white, blue, and gold.<\/span><\/span> Above all \u2014 the Intercession of the Most Holy Theotokos, with a veil in her hands.<\/span><\/span> She did not simply protect.<\/span><\/span> She \u2014 legalized the rebellious republic before heaven.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Here they prayed not with words, but in silence.<\/span><\/span> They did not kneel, but stood, silently clutching their swords in their hands.<\/span><\/span> For God had to see that their bodies were ready, and their spirits were free.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Every campaign began with a prayer, with a reading of the fallen comrade, with an oath on the saber.<\/span><\/span> On Sunday, even after the party, everyone went to church in the morning – dirty, gloomy, but with dignity.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Church

Church of the Intercession on the Sich<\/p><\/div>\n

\ud83e\udeb5\u00a0Deck: Tree of Justice<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

In the center of the square, not far from the church, stood a huge log, black with dampness.
\n<\/span><\/span><\/span>It was never cleaned.<\/span><\/span> It was a court, a prison, and a gallows all at once.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Cossacks

Cossacks near the punishment deck<\/p><\/div>\n

\ud83d\udcdc What were they punished for?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n
    \n
  • \n

    For treason – execution.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/li>\n

  • \n

    For theft – a public disgrace.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/li>\n

  • \n

    For drunkenness on duty, they tied him to a log for three days.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/li>\n

  • \n

    For lying, they threw him into the river (but with a rope to pull him out if he repented).<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n

    Sometimes the chieftain did not pass sentences.<\/span><\/span> He simply placed the guilty person at the stake \u2014 and the community decided.<\/span><\/span> With votes.<\/span><\/span> With memories.<\/span><\/span> With looks.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    <\/h2>\n

    \u2696\ufe0f A court without judges, but with honor<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

    There were no lawyers in Sich.<\/span><\/span> There was one criterion: who you were \u2014 in the case and outside it.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \u2014 This brother fought at Ochakov.<\/span><\/span> And he took a bullet for all of us.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \u2014 And he abandoned his brother.<\/span><\/span> Tell me, do we believe him?<\/p>\n

    <\/span><\/span><\/span>This wasn’t a trial.<\/span><\/span> It was human memory that weighed more than documents.
    \n\"Depiction<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    The trial of the Cossacks<\/p>\n

    \ud83d\udcd6 Legend: the chieftain who punished himself<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

    They say there was an ataman named Sava the Black who ordered an oak tree to be cut down in a sacred clearing at night to build a new guardhouse.<\/span><\/span> In the morning the priest came and said:<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \u2014 This oak tree was planted in honor of Victory.<\/span><\/span> How dare you?<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    Sava silently gathered the council, stood on the log and said:<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \u2014 I blame myself.<\/span><\/span> I have dishonored the memory of my brothers.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    For three days he did not eat, did not speak, slept on the ground.<\/span><\/span> And on the fourth day he came to church, took off his Cossack clothes and went to the meadows like a hermit.<\/span><\/span> He was never seen again.<\/span><\/span> But his name was mentioned at every punishment – as a measure of honor.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n

    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n
    \n

    \ud83e\udded The shame of exile: being alive but not your own<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/h2>\n

    The worst punishment for a Cossack is not death.
    \n<\/span><\/span><\/span>The worst is exile.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \u2014 You are no longer with us.
    \n<\/span><\/span>\u2014 Your name is no longer in song.
    \n<\/span><\/span>\u2014 Even your horse will stay here.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    The one who was being driven out was not beaten.<\/span><\/span> He was simply led out of the gates of the Sich.<\/span><\/span> Without shouting.<\/span><\/span> Without a saber.<\/span><\/span> And he went.<\/span><\/span> Alone.<\/span><\/span> Without a cross.<\/span><\/span> Without farewell.<\/span><\/span> Because no one saw off a dead man who was still breathing.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \n

    In the steppe, among the weeds, one could hear the man who had been a brother yesterday crying.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

    <\/h2>\n

    \ud83d\udd6f\ufe0f\u00a0Epilogue.<\/span><\/span> Sich is not a place.<\/span><\/span><\/span> Sich is a state of mind<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/h2>\n

    When the Sich was destroyed, someone said:<\/span><\/span><\/span>
    \u2014 Well, now it’s all over.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    But that was a mistake.<\/span><\/span> Because the Sich is not a front garden or a hut.<\/span><\/span> It is a look that is cast at a lie.<\/span><\/span> It is a saber that does not tolerate slavery.<\/span><\/span> It is a song that cannot be changed even at gunpoint.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \n

    The Sich is a state that existed in the heart, not on the map.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

    Anyone who has ever stood in a council, anyone who held a comrade as he died on the sword, will never forget the color of dawn in the steppe.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    And even if time burns the flags, the idea of the Sich will forever resonate in the blood of the Ukrainian people.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

    \"Sich

    Sich – the home of free people<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/article>\n

    <\/div>\n

    <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

    \u2694\ufe0f The one who is held in the arms The sun had not yet risen above the towers of the<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":683,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[48],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-368","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kozaczka-doba-ta-getmanshhyna"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/368","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=368"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/368\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":865,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/368\/revisions\/865"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/683"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=368"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=368"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/viberrun.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=368"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}