At the end of the 1990s, the museum sphere witnessed an important transition: from the uniform Soviet vision of the war to a Ukrainocentric interpretation, one that sought to reveal the complexity of events, reflect on Ukraine’s fate in the global conflict, and highlight the contribution of Ukrainians to the victory over Nazism. With this in mind, museum specialists began searching for artifacts that could reflect the Ukrainian narrative in the halls undergoing re-exhibition.
During the Second World War, the Soviet propaganda machine often exploited national identity, local histories, and cultural features of peoples to strengthen the morale of the troops. Such sources were therefore found in the museum’s collection and presented to visitors. One such example is a postcard that appeared in 1941, when Soviet forces, pressed by the Nazis, were retreating in defensive battles. Just as the Cossacks once wrote their mocking letter to the Turkish Sultan, so now their descendants wrote to a new tyrant — the cannibal Hitler.
Although framed within the Soviet ideological paradigm, this postcard was born of the spirit of Cossack free thought. It is written in the language of the trenches, of the steppe, and of history itself. In every word there is the echo of a people’s inner strength, capable not only of fiercely defending their land but also of mocking their enemy.
“Cannibal, bloodsucker, butcher in a brown shirt and murderer, uncrowned Führer and decrepit old Herr… Let us remind you, since your memory is short, that our Ukrainian people have always thrashed the Germans like puppies. You scoundrels were beaten by the swords of Danylo of Halych and by the sabres of Bohdan Khmelnytsky’s Cossacks. In 1918 we drove the Kaiser’s soldiers from Ukraine like dogs.”
This is an example of folk creativity and, at the same time, an act of resistance, where Cossack sarcasm became a weapon. In it lies popular disdain, dignity that refuses to bow. For the Cossacks knew that an enemy who is mocked is already partially defeated.
This is not a Moscow-made agitprop — it is a word from the depths of Ukraine, from the descendants of the Cossacks who absorbed with their mother’s milk a simple truth: he who has a “pig’s snout and pig’s nature” will never be the master of their land. And today, in resisting Russian aggression, the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of Ukraine’s defenders are once again proving this truth.