Leyzarov’s presence baffled Kulik; he wondered how he had managed to come to the conference and even to have found a seat on the presidium. Leyzarov was not a teacher or an educator of any sort, but a government official, a representative from the district committee of Pinsk, to be exact, and he really had no business there.
Sergei leaned over and whispered in Kulik’s ear, “Ivan, do you see that woman on stage, the oversized one beside Leyzarov?”
Kulik craned his neck. “You mean the one in the gray dress?”
“Yes. That’s Dounia Avdeevna. Do you remember I mentioned her to you the other day? She’s the fishmonger, the one who had a stall in the marketplace and sold schmaltz herring.”
Her formidable size and coarse features made an immediate impression on Kulik. With her arms folded over her more than ample belly, she reminded him of a Buddha. She seemed to him to be saying to the crowd, “Look at me, people! Look how important I am! I no longer sell schmaltz herring. I’m a teacher now!”
On the wall at the back of the stage behind the presidium hung two large posters, one of Lenin and the other of Stalin. Vladimir Ilich, in a dark three-piece suit, was reaching his arms toward the masses with a tender smile. Joseph Vissarionovich, in his customary high-collared jacket and black leather boots, wore a benevolent expression. The posters were adorned with red flags and ribbons and nailed to the wall between them was a hammer and sickle. Suspended across the stage was a bright red banner with bold white letters: “Welcome to the First Teachers’ Conference of Western Belorussia.”
Although somewhat apprehensive, Kulik was relieved to be at the conference. Since taking up his teaching position in Hlaby, he had been hoping in some way to break free from there. He was glad to be in Pinsk, the small but busy provincial port city, where he could meet with fellow teachers, exchange ideas, perhaps even have a few interesting conversations.
Yeliseyenko stood up and clapped his hands.
“Attention, teachers! Welcome to the first teachers’ conference of the Pinsk region. In the next couple of weeks our aim is to get to know one another and to familiarize ourselves with the new Soviet system of education. We will come to understand and appreciate the political transformation of our schools, from ones that were selective and bourgeois to ones that are now free and accessible to all. The day has come for the oppressed working-class masses to enter a place never before imagined. Everyone will now have the equal right to an education. And your responsibility as teachers will be to guide your students accordingly, using our great Soviet plan. The first speaker I would like to introduce today is Comrade Melnik, a distinguished delegate from the National Committee in Minsk. Welcome, Comrade Melnik!”
Rising from his seat, Melnik, a slightly built man with bowlegs and a curved spine, carefully placed his papers upon the table, and fumbled in his jacket pocket for his reading glasses. He spoke in a resonant voice with impressive emphasis. Unfortunately, his speech was in Belorussian and as a result many did not understand what he was saying while others grasped only parts of it. But what he was saying was nothing new. He merely expounded upon the usual Soviet platitudes, denouncing the ousted “oppressive bourgeois Polish regime,” and the “suffering endured by the Belorussian brotherhood.” After about fifteen minutes he ended with, “To freedom! To liberty! Three cheers for the liberating Red Army!”
There was a round of loud applause, and when it finally died down, Yeliseyenko addressed the crowd.
“Our next speaker is Comrade Isaac Abramovich, an esteemed teacher of mathematics and sciences and a graduate of Moscow University, now posted here in Pinsk. Welcome, Comrade Abramovich!”
A handsome giant of a man, with a head full of curly black hair and a nose shaped like a pickle, was the next one to rise. He appeared calm and self-assured and had a good-humored and friendly air. With his hands buried in his trouser pockets, he spoke in a clear Russian without the trace of an accent and without notes. His voice was low and had a mechanical ring.
“Welcome, comrades. We have found ourselves in very fortunate times. A wonderful life awaits us, one free of oppression and poverty, where the poor and the hungry will, for the first time ever, enjoy happiness and plenty. We will all not only thrive under the sun of Stalin’s constitution but more importantly we will promote Communism worldwide.”
It was not long before it became evident to everyone that his speech was carefully scripted and had been delivered many times before and on many different occasions. When finally he ended, he threw up both arms and shouted, “History is being rewritten before our very eyes! We are witnessing first-hand the birth of the working class revolution! Hurrah to Stalin!” After bowing to loud applause and looking very satisfied with himself, he took his seat once more.
As Yeliseyenko was about to announce the next speaker, a man at the back of the hall suddenly raised his hand, and got up. He turned out to be a Pole by the name of Zaleski, a teacher from Krive Selo. He squeezed his way timidly and awkwardly through the crowd. He spoke softly in a clear Ukrainian, the language he had adopted during his long stay in the marshes.
“My fellow comrades,” he coughed slightly to clear his throat, “the question of language in our schools is a matter of great importance. We have already heard from delegate Melnik, who informs us that we are to have Belorussian schools. This is indeed, in my opinion, a frightening proposition. I myself am a Pole and for nearly fifteen years have taught the local children in Polish. I am the first to admit that nothing ever came of it. The majority of inhabitants here are Ukrainian and it is my belief that it is best to teach the children in Ukrainian. What do you think it will be like if overnight they are told to forget what they’ve already managed to learn in Polish, to forget their native Ukrainian, and to start learning Belorussian? I guarantee you the result will be catastrophic. The result is, the local inhabitants of the area don’t speak or understand Belorussian, and it appears to me neither do most of the teachers. As a result, wouldn’t it make more sense to bring Ukrainian schools into the region?”
Another voice hastened to pick up the point. “I agree completely. I’ve taught in the marshes for nearly three decades. I know the locals are predominantly Ukrainian, and they want their children to be taught in Ukrainian. If Belorussian schools are brought in, the people will literally be crippled. My vote is to institute Ukrainian schools.”
Looking agitated and trying to remain calm, Yeliseyenko quickly rose to respond. “The question of language is not a matter to be voted on. I’ve already heard more than enough. Before we continue, let me make one thing clear: it’s not for us to decide in what language we are to teach the children. The regime has already made up its mind and the decision is final.”
Glancing down at his papers, Yeliseyenko then started calling out names from his long list.
As the hours passed. speaker after speaker came to the stage and, one after the other, elaborated upon various themes, for the most part praising Stalin and glorifying the new regime. Kulik listened attentively at first, and then eventually began to block out what was being said; everything he heard was a rehash of everything that had already been said a million times before.
Growing more and more restless and irritable, with everything grating on his nerves, he raised his hand without thinking of the possible consequences. When Yeliseyenko called upon him and he stepped up to the stage, the words came pouring out, not about language or the new regime, but about the history of Ukraine. “Even as far back as the seventeenth century, Bohdan Hmelnytsky, the greatest hetman of Ukraine, proudly wanted to unite his people with Mother Russia. Our ties go back a long way.” He praised Hmelnytsky in a way the Soviets wanted to hear. “He led an unprecedented uprising of the oppressed working-class masses and it was through him that Ukraine became permanently unified with Russia. Yes, till this day we enjoy a historic link.”