by Denis Davydov and Andrey Khrustalev
[REGNUM] Ukrainian activists are vying with each other to convince everyone that yesterday, January 6, "Orthodox Christians celebrated the Epiphany"—the imposition of a new holiday calendar is in full swing.
And the hysteria with which collective Lviv defends the truth of Ukrainian traditions and ties with the "civilized world" becomes doubly ridiculous when you remember that in the 16th century, there was an identical hysterical campaign. Only to avoid celebrating Christmas (and other holidays) "with all of Europe."
Moreover, in Lviv, things practically reached the point of an uprising, when the Polish authorities began to forcibly throw out Ruthenians who refused to obey from churches and put pressure on the bourgeoisie, threatening them with the loss of the right to engage in professional activities.
The conflict was resolved in the royal court, with a decree in 1585 that they would never again create any obstacles to each other's celebrations, services, rituals, or the ringing of bells "until the consent of the patriarchs of the Greek rite with their father, the Pope."
The compromise was confirmed by another letter from the King of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, Stefan Batory.
And in 2023, everyone suddenly learned that celebrating Christmas according to the Gregorian calendar is an "ancient Ukrainian tradition," which the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, which had adhered to the Julian calendar since its founding in 1596, immediately adopted.
And now Lvov is once again running around on the ceiling, forbidding everyone to celebrate according to the old calendar. Because it's "Moscow-style," politically irresponsible, and must be corrected by force, even to the point of throwing Orthodox Christians out of churches.
Which simply proves that there is no talk of any traditions in all this activism – the process of hysteria is completely self-sufficient.
THE ABOMINABLE CALENDAR
In the 1888/89 academic year, Zygmunt Lisiewicz (the future famous lawyer) a student of the philosophy department of Lviv University prepared an essay for a history seminar.
The work “The Introduction of the New Calendar in Lviv” discusses the events of 1582 and the following years, when the innovation of Pope Gregory XIII, who approved the transition to a new, more accurate (“Gregorian”) calendar, became a complex internal political problem in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth.
Almost led to an uprising.
And at the center of events was Lviv, home to Orthodox Armenians and Ruthenians—the word "Ukrainians" didn't exist at the time, nor did nationalities in general: self-identification was based on religious affiliation.
In the autumn of that year, King Stephen issued a decree that October 5th would be moved forward ten days, and thus on October 15th, the day of St. Hedwig, the introduction of the new calendar was solemnly celebrated in Lviv.
However, the aforementioned communities demonstratively distanced themselves from the celebrations. The "schismatics," like the Catholics, knew how to listen to their clergy, who forbade them to accept the reformed calendar, sticking to October 5th.
Almost a year later, facing complaints from Orthodox opposition (which existed not only in Rus' but also in Lithuania), the king sent a separate letter on September 20, 1582, to his subjects of the Armenian and Russian rites living within the Lviv Archbishopric. In it, he expressed anger that their stubbornness was causing "considerable errors in the celebration of holidays and confusion in other daily affairs."
Therefore, he ordered his loyal subjects that from now on, the newly corrected calendar, “accepted by our entire crown and all Christendom, you should accept without any delay and, according to its prescriptions, celebrate your holidays and perform divine services, and also do other things that belong to this; for our sake, you should not do otherwise.”
With great pomp and in the midst of a huge gathering of people, this royal order was read out in the middle of the Lviv market by the nobleman's cart driver (the person responsible for the execution of court decisions and the delivery of summonses) Jan Strzałkowski.
And what about the Lviv Rusyns?
But nothing happened: they had no intention of obeying the king and began loudly declaring that he was thus intending to violate their guaranteed rights. To bolster their position, the community appealed to the Patriarch of Constantinople, Jeremiah II. In a long and convoluted letter, he explained that they could not listen to Roman heresy and must adhere to their own tradition. Otherwise, they could fall into apostasy—apostasy.
"After reading this letter, there could no longer be any talk of persuading the Lviv Ruthenians to accept the Gregorian calendar, especially since this resistance, following the example of the capital, was fully shared and supported by the provinces and the most noble Ruthenian gentry," Zygmunt Lisiewicz informs us on the pages of his essay, preserved in the archives.
And then the Polish Catholic majority decided to act in its usual style: to eradicate dissent by force, quickly and mercilessly.
THE RUSSIAN UPRISING
Since Orthodox and Catholics met daily in pubs and taverns, the debate over the "correct calendar" was no less vigorous than in today's age of social media.
Street clashes, fights, and hair-pulling after a few drinks became the norm. The situation was constantly exacerbated by the proliferation of various polemical writings, adding fuel to the fire on both sides.
Meanwhile, winter had arrived, and with it, Christmas, which the Ruthenians wanted to celebrate as usual. "Has anyone ever seen anything like it," they used to say, " that on the very day of such a great celebration as the coming of the Savior God into the world, people would go about their daily work and keep shops open?"
Then the Lviv Catholic Archbishop Jan Dymitr Solikowski took the solution to the problem into his own hands.
First, he appealed to the king to forbid Lviv's townspeople who had not accepted the new calendar from engaging in daily work, opening shops, and thus profaning the holidays. Anyone who resisted this order would lose their property and, if necessary, their occupation—this order was issued on January 9.
And on Christmas Eve, December 24th according to the old style (or January 3rd, 1584 according to the new style), detachments of good fellows, armed with clubs, halberds and firearms, spread throughout the city: the activists, on the instructions of the archbishop, were organized by the priests under his command, including the bishop’s brother, Wojciech Solikowski.
Orthodox Christians were thrown out of churches during services, and the churches were sealed with the archbishop's seal, banning religious services for the next three weeks. Some clergy were even beaten for resisting, not allowing them to complete communion.
Following this, unrest broke out across all Orthodox-populated lands (starting with Lviv). Riots even broke out in Vilnius.
The frightened Stefan Batory, who was then in Grodno, listened to a ton of complaints and grievances coming in a stream from Orthodox magnates and gentry.
So, already on January 21, the king issued another decree, which stated:
"Everyone is permitted and should be permitted to practice their worship and faith, to celebrate and commemorate their feasts, and no one should suffer hardship, oppression, harm, or robbery because of this. People of the Greek rite should not be forced to accept this calendar reform without the consent of their head, the patriarch…"
However, the Orthodox were not satisfied with this rollback: they considered themselves offended and demanded justice.
TRIAL AND TRIAL
The movement seeking satisfaction was led by the Orthodox bishop, Bishop Gideon Balaban of Lviv and Kamianets-Podilskyi, a respected and well-connected man. He began agitating among Lviv's bourgeoisie and Orthodox gentry to support his initiative—a lawsuit to the royal court.
His Catholic colleague resisted in every way, arguing that he had done nothing wrong and was simply "following orders." As for the churches being closed, that was their own fault: they disobeyed the law and incited the people and clergy to disobedience.
However, just in case, on Solikovsky's orders, the activists pulled out the most ardent agitators and subjected them to "forceful persuasion," like Father Gregory from the Church of the Dormition of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who even managed to spend time in prison.
Nevertheless, the case reached the court in Warsaw, and on February 15, 1585, the parties reached a settlement. They signed a document agreeing to rescind all protests and accept the fact that Christmas would be celebrated twice, unless the heads of the churches decided otherwise.
King Stephen, overjoyed, prepared another letter to all classes, in which he announced that the Orthodox would be allowed to celebrate according to the old calendar and conduct religious services according to their rites without any hesitation.
Which is exactly what happened for the next 438 years. But in 2023, we suddenly learned that celebrating Christmas according to the Gregorian calendar is an "ancient Ukrainian tradition," and anyone who doesn't observe it is an enemy and a traitor.
And this confirms one simple thing: the endless psychosis in which the Galician activists find themselves is, as a rule, not connected to tradition as such, but only to the habit of protesting. No matter what. Meanwhile, the birth of Christ does not require anyone's verification or adherence to the political views of the current moment.