INTRODUCTION

In the music video Ia popala na liubov’ (I Fell in Love), by gender-bending, surzhyk^[1] speaking pop-cultural icon, Verka Serduchka,^[2] the question of national loyalty is posited by her fictional family. Her mother asks Verka if she will perform in the upcoming round of the Eurovision contest as a representative of Ukraine (where Verka is from) or Russia (where she is more popular).^[3] Verka hesitates amid the banter of her relatives and answers “Kazakhstan,” to which her mother remarks, “pravil’no” (correct choice).
Vilified by some segments of society, while adored by others, Verka Serduchka is indicative of the problems of linguistic, cultural and sexual identity in Ukraine and the post-Soviet space in general. By intentionally speaking surzhyk, the much derided mixing of Ukrainian and Russian, Verka (performed by male actor Andrei Danilko) purposely sets herself apart from those who claim Ukraine “for Ukrainians,” and those who question if Ukrainians are merely Russians with a unique identity resulting from a mixing with its neighbors. Verka Serduchka is significant because in the pop-cultural context she stands almost alone in refusing to play ethnic games, choosing instead to revel in the carnival of Ukraine’s present post-Soviet circumstance. However, by not choosing sides she is an obstacle in Ukraine’s attempt to erase a historical legacy of hybridity.
Between May and August 2006 I polled respondents from fourteen cities in Ukraine about Verka Serduchka.^[4] The purpose of these surveys was to try to answer the question: how do Ukrainians interpret and understand Verka Serduchka? I posited questions about Verka Serduchka and national and cultural identity, language use and sexuality. My hopes were that by asking questions about Verka’s identity, I would be able to shed light on how people in Ukraine view themselves. I did not follow any particular scientific research method in recruiting participants for this project, and I do not claim that the results are statistically significant. It was hoped however, that the responses would provide a small window of insight into how the people of Ukraine view Ukrainian identity vis-а-vis Verka Serduchka.
I selected respondents largely by approaching people in parks, public squares and other places where groups of people gather. I was also introduced through acquaintances to individuals and groups of people who participated in my research. While I made a concerted effort to select people of different ages, income and education levels and from different size cities from around Ukraine, I make no scientific claim to respondents being representative of the population as a whole. The survey attempted to elicit responses about Verka Serduchka in regards to her popular TV “SV Show” but also aspects of her identity and how they viewed this character’s makeup. Many respondents elaborated on Verka’s other projects or on her image as a whole in relation to Ukrainian identity. A total of 120 respondents participated in this project.
I had heard Verka Serduchka before I was actually aware of her. Her music is ubiquitous in much of the former Soviet Union, bursting out of the speakers of kiosks, cafes, markets and shops. It was in this context that I first became aware of Verka Serduchka in Russia in 2003. I had also seen the video for “Vsie budet khorosho” (Everything Will be Okay) and had dismissed it as banal, kitschy pop sung by a strange looking middle-aged woman, singing songs of hope for other women of her generation. It was only when a professor played the Serduchka music clip “Tuk, Tuk, Tuk” (Knock, Knock, Knock) for me that I began to see the complexities and ambiguities of this character and what she potentially could signify in the post-Soviet space. It was in the context of a course on post-socialist gender transformations that the character of Verka Serduchka arose and appropriately she inspired one of the more contested discussions of the seminar. How could a man playing a woman be so popular in a land not known for its tolerance of sexual minorities? How does Verka Serduchka represent the changes in gender roles in the post-Soviet space? How does she perform a post-Soviet identity?
My expectation was that respondents would view gender and sexuality as being a dominant part of the character’s makeup (in particular the fact that this is a man playing a woman), given that to the Western press this seems to be the most arresting aspect of her personality. However, since my respondents downplayed or avoided this question, its impact in this discussion has been minimized. Much like linguistic anthropologist Laada Bilaniuk, I found that “Ukrainians would prefer not to read anymore depth into the (sexual) transgressions of Verka Serduchka” than necessary.^[5] Regardless, gender and sexuality are discussed in the context of identity, and how it is important to the Verka Serduchka/Andrei Danilko story. It should be noted that in the Western press the character Andrei Danilko plays is frequently referred to as a drag queen or transvestite; however, this is not insinuated nearly as often in the Ukrainian or Russian press. The Ukrainian press, much like many of my respondents, view this transformation as an “actor’s game.” It is not Verka’s sexuality that is cited as the reason for her controversy among Ukrainians, but what she represents in the form of performance and language.
This article argues that Verka’s character symbolizes contested Ukrainian identities that exist in contention and alternately parallel to each other depending on the region, context and language being spoken by its inhabitants. Ukraine has three primary forms of speech in usage: Russian, Ukrainian and surzhyk. Surzhyk is extremely stigmatized as a marker of a person’s low level of education, and a hybridized or confused national identity. Yet up to one third of the Ukrainian population speaks surzhyk as their main form of conversation.^[6] Surzhyk should be recognized as a result of the historical amalgamation of Russians and Ukrainians, and its stigmatization could be an impediment to the growth and expansion of the Ukrainian language.

HYBRIDIZATION IN UKRAINE

Political scientist Dominique Arel argues that an individual can consider themselves a Ukrainian in terms of nationality while existing in a “repertoire of several competing identity options.”^[7] He further argues that following independence there were two dominant views postulated to define Ukraine: Ukraine as a state of ethnic Ukrainians and Ukraine as a territory. In an effort to find the middle ground, the citizenship law defined Ukraine as a state of those born there and their descendents.^[8] In other words, citizenship and identity were to be constructed based on a common sense of place. Anthropologist Nestor Garcia Canclini states: “To have an identity would be above all to have a country, a city or a neighborhood, an entity in which everything shared by those who inhabit that place becomes identical and interchangeable.”^[9] In Ukraine’s case assimilation would attempt to lead to a common Ukrainian citizenship, in which all citizens, while maybe not necessarily sharing identical linguistic traits and ancestry, would be tied to a common sense of place. In this regard, Catherine Wanner talks about the complexity of creating a new Ukrainian national citizenship since national identity in the Soviet Union took on a hybrid form, and citizens of that nation had long thought of themselves as inhabiting a superpower that stretched halfway across the world.^[10] This was further complicated by the practice that enabled Soviet people to have both a citizenship and a nationality. Whereas a Ukrainian would be designated by the nationality of Ukrainian in their passport, they were supposed to think of themselves as part of the Sovetskii narod. Additionally during the Soviet period it was common for people to choose their nationality; families were often composed of more than one nationality. Frequently one would choose their nationality based on ancestry, regardless of whether they shared linguistic, cultural or residential commonalities. Therefore, Wanner argues that many people living in Ukraine may not share in language or cultural practices, but might consider themselves Ukrainian.^[11]
There has been a drastic change in the composition of ethnic self-identification in Ukraine between the last Soviet census of 1989 and the most recent one conducted in 2001. A process of ethnic re-identification is occurring as more people who previously identified themselves as ethnic Russians have come to identify themselves as Ukrainians in relation to the country of residence. Ukraine experienced a dramatic drop in its overall population between the years of 1989 and 2001 of about three million persons or 6.1 percent,^[12] hindered by the economic shocks that occurred in the country in the 1990s that discouraged the population from having children. Anthropologist Anna Fournier argues that Russian resistance to post-independence Ukrainisation seems to be directed not at the idea of a Ukrainian state, but at the state language law of 1989,^[13] which allows for only one state language – Ukrainian. She argues that Russians sense that Ukrainian officials fail to comprehend the legacy of an empire-generated hybridity, and bristle at being thought of as a minority group.^[14] Since Russians merely moved to the periphery of the empire during Soviet times, they did not consider that they had moved to another country. In Ukraine Russians frequently intermarried and “went native.”^[15]
Hybridity could be seen as one goal of Soviet nationality policy, the desire to create a Russian-speaking Sovetskii narod. Fournier argues that hybridity in the Soviet Union was institutionalized through the promotion of mixed marriages and strong Russian settlement throughout the empire.^[16] Political scientist David D. Laitin argues that it was in the non-Russian republics that the project to create a “Soviet” nationality was most successful, primarily because many Russians settled on the periphery and melted into and influenced the titular nations.^[17] Soviet officials thought that nationality was a bourgeois and temporary invention, and with time would wither along with other products created and nurtured in the capitalist past.
However, Arel suggests that the Soviet drive to Russify all Soviet peoples backfired, as the Soviet Union had “created institutions that impeded assimilation. The breaker of ‘nations’ became the ‘builder of nations.’”^[18] In Ukraine’s case, Soviet confidence in maintaining order underestimated the power of nationalism. Fournier suggests that after independence Russians and Ukrainians switched places in the hierarchical ladder. Whereas earlier some Ukrainians passively accepted Russification in order to assimilate into the dominant culture, I would argue that one goal after independence was to erase that hybridity.
Yet, Ukrainian prior to independence was not the dominant language in use among Ukrainian citizens. In the last Soviet census of 1989, 66 percent of those permanently residing in the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic cited Ukrainian as their “native language.” However, 56.1 percent admitted to using Russian for most daily communications.^[19] Many still complain years after post-independence Ukrainisation began that they do not use and rarely hear the state language spoken in the capital.

CONCEPT OF STATE CITIZENSHIP IN UKRAINE

There has been much controversy regarding the concept of state citizenship in Ukraine since independence in 1991. Is Ukraine a nation-state, or a multi-ethnic state? While positing that any Ukrainian would not deny that Ukraine is made up of various nationalities, political scientist Andrew Wilson asks the question, do Ukrainians “conceive of themselves as a plural social group?”^[20] Ukrainian poet Pavlo Movchan asserts that, “Language is the foundation of any national identity…It is just impossible to imagine Ukraine without the Ukrainian language. Ukraine must speak in Ukrainian.”^[21] Are Ukrainians who speak Russian not Ukrainian?
Linguist Margrethe B. Søvik and sociologist Olga Filippova state that:

“The fate of the Ukrainian language is often depicted as closely interrelated with the fate of the Ukrainian nation and the independent Ukrainian state. In turn, the Russian language has come to be seen by some as a possible threat. In other words, some see the Russian language as a representation of Ukraine’s colonial past and, without emancipation from the Russian language, Ukraine cannot be emancipated from the “colonial present”.”^[22]

The Ukrainian language and its usage therefore are seen by some as a marker of nation-building. The less Russian and more Ukrainian that is spoken signify the distance between the colonial past. As evidenced by Søvik and Filippova’s surveys conducted in Kharkiv, Ukrainian more than Russian is the “language of the future” in Ukraine.^[23] In other words, Ukraine becomes more “emancipated” as more people speak Ukrainian.
Not all people in Ukraine following independence were as absolute in defining nationality. Western Ukrainian historian Yaroslav Hrytsak states that Ukraine’s task at hand following independence was “to create a new Ukrainian nation, which is not based on an exclusive ethnic, linguistic, religious or cultural principle, but on the political, economic, and territorial unity of Ukraine.”^[24] Under this understanding, the crucial task following independence was not to create an ethnically homogenous Ukraine, but to forge a functioning civic state.
Wilson argues that a Ukrainian national identity was in many ways created and nurtured during the Soviet period. While he acknowledges that Ukrainian national consciousness was more fully developed in 1991 than it had been in 1917, it had been transformed and was not “uniform” in character.^[25] Ukraine in 1991 was a multi-ethnic political entity and even its independence was not inevitable. Ukraine seems to have benefited as much from circumstances and Article 72 of the Soviet constitution.^[26] National consciousness was not high; one report to the Ukrainian Central Committee in 1991 found that only 8 percent of those of working age were influenced by nationalism, and 50 percent of the workforce was apolitical.^[27] This is how Ukraine entered independence, not as a culturally homogenous nation, but one with multiple cultures and two dominant languages.

* * *

Surzhyk in its most basic understanding is the (often habitual) mixing of the Ukrainian and Russian languages. It literally means the hybrid and low grade mixture of wheat and rye flour, defined in the 1978 Ukrainian dictionary as “elements of two languages, united artificially, not following the norms of literary language, impure language.”^[28] It began its life as an informal term, but has grown in stature and now figures prominently in public discourse. Any perceived mixing of languages could be given the term surzhyk. It is not however, a creole language; as a creole assumes a codified and stable language that originated from a combination of two or more languages, usually with many features that are not inherited from any parent. It is also not a pidgin language; as a pidgin combines two languages with one language’s vocabulary superimposed on the grammar of the other. Post-colonial theorist Robert J. C. Young argues that these forms of language preserve colonial contact, usually viewed by the colonizer as perverse.^[29] Surzhyk varies from pidgins and creoles in that the “colonized” is the group that views the hybridization as perverse. Surzhyk varies greatly based on the individual using it and inherits its features from Ukrainian and Russian, with one language’s features usually dominating the other. It is not a language or a dialect, but a personal mixing of the two languages often based on the context of interaction and habit.
Bilaniuk argues that the Ukrainian language’s ascent in the first years after independence was accompanied and even hindered by the populace’s insecurity concerning the language since it had been thought of for so long as a peasant language inferior to the urban tongue of Russian.^[30] Additionally she argues that “after independence pure Ukrainian and Russian vied for the position of high language, and surzhyk (in its various manifestations) took on the role of low language.”^[31] The rise in importance of Ukrainian was also accompanied by standards of purity. Bilaniuk further argues that surzhyk was seen as the “counterpoint to correctness,” as well as a way to discredit those who were viewed as unworthy or potentially hypocritical by employing an overly pure version of Ukrainian. Some linguistic nationalists in Ukraine have been on a quest to purify Ukrainian from Russian influences.^[32] Bilaniuk further argues that “purism” is having a negative effect on attempts to revive Ukrainian.^[33] It discourages people from using Ukrainian in contexts where both Russian and Ukrainian are understood out of the fear of making mistakes.

ANDREI DANILKO

Andrei Mikhailovich Danilko was born in the city of Poltava on October 2, 1973 and grew up in the village of Klimenka, in Poltava province.^[34] He studied at the Children’s Theater-Studio “Grotesk,” in Poltava. He had aspirations to become a journalist, and worked for a time interviewing touring celebrities in Poltava for the newspaper Komsomolets Poltavshchiny. He gave this up and began touring theaters as Verka Serduchka. Danilko took the name Serduchka from a Poltava classmate, Anya Serdyuk.^[35] He promised her that “at some point I will put your family name on the map.”^[36] The first public appearance of Verka occurred at a beauty competition in 1991 at the Gogol Club in Poltava. But he created the character of Verka earlier while studying at the Children’s Theater-Studio “Grotesk.” He was given the task of creating a character with multiple attributes. Danilko said, “I remember that I parodied some kind of street cleaner, a shop assistant, a drunk, that is people who I saw everyday on the street.”^[37]
Verka Serduchka made her first appearance on Ukrainian television on October 2, 1993, on Danilko’s twentieth birthday. He considers this black and white program the day of Verka’s “official” birth.^[38] Danilko got his big break in September, 1997, when he landed his own talk show on the most popular Ukrainian television station “1+1.”^[39] The show, SV Show, aired from 1997 until 2002. The show was enormously popular in Russia, appearing on television there a year after it began appearing in Ukraine.
SV stands for the 1st class sleeping car on trains in Russian and Ukrainian (spalnyi vagon), as Verka’s profession is that of a provodnitsa or train attendant.^[40] As one whose job it is to distribute linens, serve tea and collect tickets from passengers, a profession that is familiar to all Ukrainians and post-Soviet peoples, her position in society is easily accessible to everyone. Her usage of deliberate surzhyk is also accessible, as some mixed form of Russian and Ukrainian is widely spoken by many Ukrainians. When asked about Verka’s usage of surzhyk, many of my respondents replied that this enlivened her character or made her seem more authentic. A few elaborated on what surzhyk means in modern Ukrainian society. The question stated exactly was, “What do you think of Verka’s use of surzhyk? How does that describe her identity?”

Yes. “She” is from Poltava.
Vladimir, Poltava, 21, student

Yes, Verka speaks surzhyk. I don’t like this speech. The Ukrainian language is melodic. She mutilates it.
Andrei, Crimea, village of Razdolnoe, 28, mechanical engineer

Closer to the people. Almost no one speaks pure Ukrainian.
Vera, Kharkiv, 22 economist

It (surzhyk) represents part of the population of Ukraine.
Vitalik, Lviv, 22, lawyer

He (Danilko) found an image which brings him money. Surzhyk disqualifies the Ukrainian language.
Svyatoslav, Kyiv, 24

Half of Ukraine speaks like this.
Mister X, Kyiv, 24, bookkeeper

And who currently doesn’t speak in surzhyk?
Andrei, Uman, 36, economist

To Ukrainians Verka Serduchka’s usage of surzhyk is either seen as negative or representative. It earns her money and brings her closer to the people, and simultaneously describes a collective sense of reality. Undeniably, the usage of suzrhyk lends Verka a certain sense of authenticity to her character that has enabled and contributed to her popularity. While speaking surzhyk may complicate a pure Ukrainian identity, it lends itself to the authentic treatment of a post-Soviet Ukrainian character.

VERKA SERDUCHKA

Rarely has a created character had such a life of one’s own as Verka Serduchka. As Bilaniuk states, Verka is “autonomous or engulfed by the actor who plays her.”^[41] It is unclear who is more popular, Andrei Danilko or Verka Serduchka. When asked in 2006 if he could imagine himself or had a desire to act or sing as a different character than Verka, Danilko responded that he was unsure if he would be able to pull it off:

“I have some kind of desire, but right now I don’t know where and how. I am not sure if I am able to do something different, will it be something new or will it in some way resemble Verka?”^[42]

Danilko has recorded music as himself, although these recordings have not been successful enough to distinguish himself on his own. Several years after SV Show went off the air Danilko filmed “The Adventures of Verka Serduchka,” which like SV Show aired on station 1+1. It seemed that Danilko was interested in furthering the myth of Verka Serduchka to complete the personification of the character.

SV SHOW

SV Show was a visual carnival. It took place in a train car, presumably in the train attendant’s compartment, the place where the provodnitsa would sleep on overnight train journeys. It had no walls, however, perhaps suggesting as Bilaniuk stated that

“…this cramped compartment miraculously has almost no boundaries, and flows over a whole stage… invoking the pervasive desire for escaping the limits of the notoriously cramped living arrangements of the former USSR.”^[43]

The fluidity of the train car is symbolic itself of a rags to riches myth, and Verka has frequently been called the Ukrainian zolushka (Cinderella). Verka is breaking out of the mold society has determined for her becoming successful despite her imperfect language, her provinciality, and imperfect sexuality. I would argue that Danilko and Verka have had tremendous influence on each other’s lives; Verka’s rise to prominence, riches and fame are synonymous with Danilko’s, and vice versa.
In addition to the physical appearance, dim lights continually flicker to give the set the appearance of a train in motion. The low click-clack noise of a train in movement is audible, and the window is always cracked. It is never clear if the train is heading anywhere in particular,^[44] although on each episode the invited guest is listed in the closing credits as the “passenger.”
During the program Verka interviewed mainly Russian celebrities, and it was here that she popularized her usage of surzhyk. Her co-host was Helia, a tall beautiful blond who was mute.^[45] Bilaniuk suggests that if Verka is the “anti-hero” of language, an embodiment of taboos, then Helia represents the ideal. If she is an idealized woman when compared to Verka, then her language should also be ideal and pure. But since it is impossible to determine the ideal language of Ukraine, she suggests that Helia is mute so as not to alienate those who might speak a different language than her. She avoids negating one nationality or cultural identity over another. Bilaniuk argues that Helia’s “absence of language silently reveals the absence of a functional norm for normal communication accepted nation-wide, and leaves Helia as the site of desire for something pure.”^[46]
I would argue that Helia represents something more than that. After viewing nine episodes of SV Show which aired between 1998 and 2001, I noticed several patterns regarding her relationship to Verka. Frequently Helia serves guests or cleans the train compartment that she and Verka share. Verka even occasionally rings a bell to alert Helia that she is in need of assistance. She is coquettish and adorns herself in attractive outfits that Verka could never fit into with her exaggerated bust. I would argue that as an ideal, Helia also plays the part of a “perfect wife.” She is everything that Verka is not. She is silent and attentive compared to Verka’s extreme chattiness. She cleans whereas Verka spills. She is feminine compared to Verka’s masculinity. While Helia occasionally disobeys Verka’s commands, it is clear who wears the pants in this relationship.
SV Show does not follow a format in the tradition of other talk shows. It is as I stated above, a “carnival.” As philosopher Mikhail Bakhtin states, a carnival operates in “special carnival time, excluded, as it were, from historical time, flowing according to its own carnival laws and finding room in itself for an unlimited number of radical shifts and metamorphoses.”^[47] As Verka, a train attendant who interviews some of the most famous celebrities of post-Soviet pop culture, her show resembles a carnival since “people from various positions find themselves in familiar contact with one another.”^[48] Additionally Verka addresses all of her guests with the more familiar ty, the informal version of “you” rather than vy, the form of “you” reserved for less well known acquaintances. I would argue that by employing the second person informal Verka is saying that in her compartment everyone is familiar – everyone is at the same level, never mind that the “passengers” on her train are among the most famous persons in post-Soviet space.
The conversations that occur frequently jump from topic to topic and sometimes the “passenger” interviews Verka herself. Verka, Helia and the “passenger” frequently change seats, sometimes even taking turns to stand. Occasionally, such as the episode featuring Fillip Kirkorov as the “passenger,”^[49] Verka and Helia join the guest in a wild lip-synched version of a popular pop hit. Verka also frequently sang her own songs, as well as offer her guests chai (tea) and kolbasa (smoked sausage), items one would find on any train in the former Soviet Union.
Additionally, the atmosphere of the carnival allows Andrei Danilko to become Verka Serduchka. She even occasionally seems to switch gender roles depending on the sex – and sex appeal – of her guest. In an episode featuring Russian comedic actor Aleksei Buldakov she quaffs a fair amount of vodka, although often she drinks champagne, and gabs po-zhesnkii (engages in female conversation) with female guests. However, she dropped the masculine bonding experience when Kirkorov was a guest, acting instead as a nerve-wracked admirer.
At every show’s close Verka implores the “passenger” to offer kind words or a toast to the audience watching the program on television, and have them state their wishes directly to the camera. She follows this with a personal toast to the “passenger.” In the above-mentioned episode, Verka implores Kirkorov to say a few kind words. He addresses his words to “milyi SNG,”^[50] or dear people of the CIS (Commonwealth of Independent States). His usage of SNG here could be interpreted to signify all peoples of the former Soviet Union, as it is an organization which at its height included twelve former Soviet Republics.^[51] He is saying “good night” to not only those in Kyiv or Ukraine or even Russia, but to those all over the former Soviet Union, addressing not only Russians or Ukrainians, but people over the entire post-Soviet space. In a later episode from 2001 featuring Russian pop star Kristina Orbakaite, Verka herself addresses the television audience as “milyi SNG,” providing more evidence that her audience extends beyond the post-Soviet Ukrainian borders. In this way, Verka Serduchka is performing post-Sovietness. She is not only post-Soviet herself, but she is performing to a post-Soviet audience. She is Ukrainian in identity, but she is more than that – she, along with everyone else in the former Soviet Union has a post-Soviet identity, and she embraces this identity rather than disparages it.
One hundred percent of my respondents were aware of Verka Serduchka when I approached them, and one hundred percent had seen SV Show before. When asked if they liked the show 49 percent answered “yes” (59); 26 percent answered “no” (31); 15 percent answered “sometimes,” “so-so,” “somewhat,” or had at one time liked it, but not so much anymore (18); 4 percent responded “not really” (5); and 6 percent were unsure or gave an inconclusive or unintelligible answer (7). One respondent who does not like the show answered, “No. Too much noise. Like at the market.”^[52] The next question was “Is Verka Russian or Ukrainian?”; although I received many answers beyond these two categories. Forty-nine percent (59) answered Ukrainian and only 8 percent (9) answered Russian. Twenty percent answered that Verka is a “mix,” a “hybrid” or “Russian-Ukrainian” (24). Seventeen percent answered that she is “neither,” “Soviet,” “post-Soviet,” “international,” “cosmopolitan,” or it did not make a difference (20). One percent answered that she is a “local” (1), and 6 percent were unsure or left the question blank (7). The follow up question was “Does she seem like a Soviet woman?” Slightly more said no (44 percent, or 53) than yes (38 percent, or 46). Eleven percent were not sure or left the question blank (13). Three percent answered “somewhat” (4), and 3 percent answered “post-Soviet” (3). One percent answered “worse” than Soviet (1). So who is Verka Serduchka?

This guy is a fellow-countryman.
Elizaveta, Poltava, 78, pensioner

This is the image of a Ukrainian woman. Unequivocally! I would even say a Southern Ukrainian woman from her speech.
Andrei, Crimea, village of Rozdol’ne, 28, engineer

Paradoxical image of a Ukrainian woman who lives in the village, but works in the city.
Marina, Dnipropetrovsk, 45, engineer

A pitiful parody of the image of an uneducated woman, the product of a Soviet upbringing. The image is grotesque, scandalous.
No name given, Kyiv, 28, chemist

An actor who can show us our daily problems in satirical and ironical way, makes us laugh at them.
Oleh, Lviv, 21, lawyer^[53]

A post-Soviet image of a woman.
Tanya, Lviv, 23, architect

The disgrace of the Ukrainian nation.
Valentina, Kyiv, 54, chemist, academic

POST SV SHOW

In later musical and theatrical performances, Verka frequently uses a much larger Russian vocabulary, most likely in an effort to attract and be understood by a larger audience. It is also possible that Verka as a character is trying to prove that she has become more cosmopolitan. Bilaniuk states that SV Show was the only Ukrainian produced program that was exported to Russia, and was possibly even more popular there than in the country of its origin.^[54] After the show went off the air, Verka more frequently employed Russian arguably to sustain and further develop her popularity, although incursions into Ukrainian were not uncommon.
It is widely believed that Verka Serduchka is more loved the farther East one travels in Ukraine. My surveys bear out that Danilko is equally loved (and abhorred) around the country. Even though Verka has frequently been accused of being Russian by Ukrainian political organizations and the media, and the Russian media correspondingly claim her as their own, the data in my surveys did not bear this out. Even when my respondents were prompted to choose a nationality for her out of two possible choices, they decided she was more Ukrainian than anything else. But many had a difficult time answering what her nationality is.

I cannot determine her national identity.
Lyuba, Lviv, 57, chemist

Neither, fish, flesh nor fowl.
Anya, Kyiv, 49, biologist

Russian and Ukrainian (an aggregated mix).
Olga, Kyiv, 49, secretary

No Russian, no Ukrainian, it is Soviet woman.^[55]
Andrei, Kyiv, 29, IT manager

Mix of Ukrainian, Russian and Soviet.
Sergei, Kyiv, 29, director

CONTROVERSY

When Verka Serduchka wore a T-shirt bearing the image of Taras Shevchenko in 2005,^[56] a Ukrainian nationalist group, the Young Nationalist Congress, demanded that Danilko give up his Ukrainian citizenship and pack his bags and go to Russia.^[57] The most controversial aspect of Verka’s identity is arguably her usage of surzhyk. But clearly the images that Danilko employs in his personification of a Ukrainian woman as evidenced above are also capable of igniting anger. As Fedyuk states, “Serduchka’s image emphasizes the provinciality of Ukraine vis-а-vis Moscow.”^[58] As surzhyk is considered a marker of a low educational status, Verka’s popularity in Russia has only reinforced the fears among Ukrainians that Russia looks down on Ukraine as merely a province or a backwater, and does not see it as an independent country. Bilaniuk suggests that some Ukrainians oppose Verka and her show mainly because it feeds into the stereotype that Russians have about Ukrainians, and that Russians only want to “consume images of Ukrainians as comic, stupid figures.”^[59] Fedyuk argues that Serduchka’s popularity in Russia “reveals that her particular rendition of ‘Ukrainianness’ is particularly appealing to the Russian perception of Ukraine.”^[60]
Additionally Verka’s portrayal seems to rupture the linguistic and cultural nationalist idea of what it is to be Ukrainian. Cultural historian Serhy Yekelchyk argues that an obsession with interpreting the past is inherent to all nationalism. The melting pot of Ukrainians and Russians has been on the stove for centuries, yet nationalism “relies on the prescription of ‘natural’ continuity among a people’s collective past, present and future.”^[61] As stated earlier, some linguistic and political Ukrainian nationalists are trying to erase the hybridity of the past. To them, Verka represents perhaps the greatest obstacle to achieving this goal: she destroys the ideas of an idealized past, present and future.

EUROVISION

The Eurovision Song Contest is an annual television event that is broadcast all over Europe. Its original vision was to “stimulate the output of original, high-quality songs in the field of popular music by encouraging competition between authors and composers through the international comparison of their works.”^[62] Its initial goal was actually to promote television. The European Broadcasting Union, formed in 1954, was charged with coming up with new joint-broadcasting ideas, and from this Eurovision was born.
The first Eurovision contest took place in 1956 in Lugano, Switzerland, and Switzerland also won the inaugural year. Only seven nations participated that year, although each country sent two songs to compete. Some of the basic rules have remained intact from the initial contest: songs must be sung live, and the song itself must not have been recorded or performed prior to the contest. With time new rules have appeared. Each country decides which artist to send to the competition, albeit many countries have different selection processes. Each country can only vote for other countries and not itself during the competition. In recent years viewers at home have been invited to vote by telephone and SMS.^[63] In 2007 forty-two nations participated in the contest.
Amid controversy, Verka won the role of Eurovision candidate for Ukraine on March 9, 2007, also coincidentally the birthday of Taras Shevchenko. It had been widely speculated since the days after Finland’s Lordi won, a group whose theatrics and costumes were more crucial to their win than their vocal abilities, it seemed that Verka’s style of entertainment would be a perfect match to the changing nature of the contest. A senior public relations official at NTU said that, “Considering the winners of 2006, Lordi, I personally consider Verka Serduchka suitable for the contest. She fits the format of the event.”^[64] Despite protests, including an act of protest involving the burning of an effigy of Serduchka in Kyiv two days before the local selection, Verka Serduchka blew away her competition by capturing fourteen votes out of a total of twenty seven. Since Tina Karol placed seventh in the 2006 contest, Verka proceeded immediately to the final round, since any country that places in the top ten is automatically granted a spot in the following year’s final.
Ever since Ruslana won the contest in 2004 in Istanbul for her song “Wild Dances,” (Diki Tantsi) Eurovision has been linked with Ukrainian identity. Marko Pavlyshyn argues that the “contest implies an idea of Europe not limited by membership in the European Union.”^[65] After her performance, Ruslana said, “All of us are making a positive image of Ukraine. I want my country to open up before you with friendship and hospitality.”^[66] Fedyuk argues in a comparison of Ruslana and Verka that “For some Serduchka seems to mock nationalist values and national symbolism; the irritation of Ukrainian patriots also demonstrates that the issues Serduchka tackles are much more fresh and painful than those employed by Ruslana.”^[67]
This was not Verka’s first attempt to represent Ukraine in the Eurovision contest. Danilko withdrew his bid from the Ukrainian pre-selection process in 2005. The official reason given for the withdrawal was a conflict between the dates of the pre-selection process and a tour. However, the Ukrainian jury expressed reservations about Verka’s image and Danilko’s vocal abilities. The 2005 contest was to take place in Kyiv, and the jury seemed interested in showing its best side to Europe. Grinjolly was eventually selected to represent Ukraine in 2005,^[68] finishing a disappointing nineteenth.
After withdrawing from the Ukrainian contest, Danilko tried his hat in the Russian Eurovision market. He made it to the semifinals, but ended up losing out to Natalia Podolskaya, who tried out for Russia after being turned down by her native Belarus. She had been courted by England in 2003, but turned them down saying she would only perform for her native Belarus. She came in fifteenth place for Russia.
The announcement of Verka Serduchka’s victory in the selection process to represent Ukraine in Helsinki was met with mixed reactions. I found three typical responses following the announcement: Verka’s nomination is good for Eastern Slavic relations and unity; it is understandable, because she has a good chance of winning; or it is negative for Ukraine’s image. This supports the oft-heard criticism that the Eurovision contest is more about politics than music. As regards the second of the three responses, one of the main reasons given for Verka Serduchka’s entry was that she had a good chance of winning as she is well known in Russia, Israel, the Baltic countries, Belarus, and several other Eastern European countries. Economists Sofronis Clerides and Thanasis Stengos argue that the Eurovision contest is one of the few forums where a European country can express an opinion about another country without damaging relations.^[69] In a statistical analysis of voting blocks in the contest, they discovered that the “Soviet cluster” composed of Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Russia and Ukraine, exchange a lot of voting points with each other to try and influence the outcome. It could be argued based on this analysis that the Eurovision contest is perhaps more regional than national.
However, while there seems to be regional unity, it is still a stage of national identity building and contestation. A virtual fight broke out between Artem, a Russian and practically everyone one who would listen to him on the official Ukrainian Eurovision site. The following is an excerpt from March 7, 2007 two days before the local selection was decided.

Artem (in Russian): I am sure that there is not a more national artist than Verka Serduchka! So vote for him! For me Russia, Ukraine, Belarus – it is one state. Let us together assemble a team of our voters which can present us worthily. And support each other in the competition! Let’s destroy Europe together!^[70]
Angel (in Ukrainian): Ukraine is an independent power! So there…
Artem: Angel, what, are you from the West[ern part of the country], or are you an Orangist or something?^[71] Keep in mind my dear child, power is in friendship and in union. But have many of you Banderites achieved your independence?^[72] Together we can do it all!
Yaroslav: (in Ukrainian): Artem, Ukraine has not yet perished as sings Serduchka.

At this point the Ukrainian speakers ignore Artem, who asks what the above phrase means in Russian. Shortly after, Yuventus responds to him, although Artem does not respond.

Yuventus (in Russian): Artem, get out of here (on Angel?)! Ukraine can do without your “brotherly” friendship. We finally have been liberated from the Moscow yoke!^[73] And now we are building a new country. Vlasova is the best!^[74] (Yuventus now switches to Ukrainian) Together we are many! They won’t get the better of us!^[75]

One article suggests that Kyiv was in mourning over Verka’s selection. It states that Ukrainian demonstrators were in hysterics, lamenting that “Verka Serduchka was disgracing Ukraine.”^[76] The protester’s signs included such phrases as “In Eurovision 2007 Ukraine will appear in its most clownish image,” and “Verka Serduchka is the personification of the post-imperial complex of little-Russianness.” The outpouring of protest was thought to have hurt Verka’s odds of succeeding in the contest. After an impressive start, the odds of a Ukrainian victory prior to the contest dropped to sixteen-to-one in most places.^[77]
Even the song that Verka proposed to sing at Eurovision was contested, although from the Russian perspective. It was insinuated that two lyrics in the song “Danzing,” Verka’s contribution, were anti-Russian.^[78] It sounds as if Verka was singing “I want you to sing Russia goodbye,” however Danilko insists that he was singing “I want you to see lasha tumbai.” At a press conference in Helsinki just days before the final, Danilko stated, “I’m singing ‘lasha tumbai’, which means churned butter in Mongolian. I think.”^[79] However, several Mongolians appearing on a talk show in Russia disputed that this phrase exists in their language.^[80]
Danilko insists that he has been a victim of a misunderstood lyric, threatening legal action against those who accuse him of singing anti-Russian texts. He was also criticized by the Russian side for making reference to Maidan Square in Kyiv, the site of the Orange revolution in 2004. The song was officially renamed “Danzing Lasha Tumbai.”^[81] Despite these contestations, Danilko was presented with a special icon for good luck by the President of Ukraine, Victor Yushchenko, prior to Danilko’s departure to the Eurovision contest.^[82] This came after a group of Western Ukrainian students petitioned the president to hold another round of voting for the contest.^[83]
Held May 12 at Helsinki’s largest hockey stadium, Eurovision 2007 was anything but boring. Verka Serduchka eventually placed second losing out to Serbia’s Marija Serifovic song “Molitva.” Serbia, who was entering the contest for the first time as a wholly independent nation,^[84] gained many points from neighboring former Yugoslav states, and Verka received numerous votes from former Soviet republics causing many in the West to complain about “bloc voting” from the East. Verka’s entry managed to cause controversy as some listeners insisted that the lyric “Russia goodbye” was sung in the final performance. As a result, according to one source, Danilko is forbidden from performing on most of the territory of the Russian Federation. However, it is not entirely clear who is responsible for canceling his performances. Danilko said:

“It is awful! They have refused me [the right to play] practically all concerts in the Russian Federation. I can’t understand what is going on. It is a catastrophe…. Many people who organized my concerts, literally in one day called me and apologized that everything had changed. Moreover, this situation has occurred practically all over the country…. This is a real repression and I am tired and crushed. More than this, special letters were circulated to all large concert halls in which the owners of these stages and clubs were strongly recommended to not give me the opportunity to perform and to forbid the promoters from organizing my concerts…. I am tired of saying that I didn’t sing the phrase “Russia goodbye.” I have never had any conflicts with Russia. I am only an actor, I just want to sing and bring people joy. I love my work. I love my audience the same whether in Ukraine or Russia.”^[85]

Some people in Ukraine see Verka Serduchka’s portrayal as existing in a world of stereotypes, stirring the sensitive nerve endings of Ukrainian identity. She represents an impurity, a negative connotation of an adulterated identity. Verka and her “family” as enacted in her performances are products of the past, backwards village people, and a blemish of hybridity that they do not want to admit exists in independent Ukraine. As cultural critic and journalist Andrei Arkhangelskii argues, “It is [surzhyk] everywhere, but everyone pretends that it is not…. The intelligentsia [in Ukraine] thinks that Serduchka gives hybridity even more legitimacy.”^[86]
And while some in Ukraine embrace Verka’s image, many wish that she would have represented Russia in the contest. When asked, ‘Do you know who Verka Serduchka is?’ one respondent replied, “this is a popular artist who is loved more in Russia” (Alla, 47, teacher of Ukrainian language and literature, Crimea, village of Rozdol’ne), as if this somehow negates Verka’s nationality. Certainly Ukrainians appeared to be ambivalent about supporting such an image in a nation building contest such as Eurovision, which seems to be more important to smaller nations interested in putting a face on their country. Whereas Ruslana performed a distinctively Ukrainian work, to some Verka is not capable of elucidating the same values of identity, culture and purity. To some Verka Serduchka does not perform Ukrainianness, but post-Sovietness.

CONCLUSION

In my surveys I discovered that Ukrainians, irrespective of their region of residence, view Verka Serduchka alternately as a Russian, a Ukrainian, a Soviet, a hybrid, or something else entirely. More significant than this, many were in agreement that she is representative of life in the post-Soviet context. Many respondents demonstrated a paucity of cohesion on the question of identity in Ukraine. This lack of clarity is a crucial component in understanding contemporary Ukrainian identity. It is clear that no one has a monopoly on Ukrainian identity.
Nostalgia for the status quo of the past in tandem with political ideas for the future contributes to a present-day hybridized identity in Ukraine. One person can have elements of Soviet, Russian and Ukrainian culture – or a hybridized mix of all three – and still identify with the idea of Ukraine as a state. Verka Serduchka performs the idea of post-Soviet-ness in Ukraine by unabashedly adapting multifaceted elements of identity, and employing them to revel in the carnival of post-Soviet life.
Arkhangelskii argues that “if five years ago Verka was a symbol of Ukraine’s survival, then now she is a symbol of Ukrainian democracy….”^[87] How has Danilko responded to his Eurovision triumph and subsequent backlash in Russia? By deciding to throw his hat in the political ring: Danilko plans to create his own political party and participate in the upcoming Ukrainian parliamentary elections. His party will be aptly named “Protiv Vsekh” (Against All), and supposedly is being supported by the mayor of Kyiv, Leonid Chernovetskii.^[88] As Danilko explains, “Currently in Ukraine, people don’t understand who to vote for, they are tired of the elections, consolidations and confrontations. And politicians bicker around the podium. I also don’t understand a thing, but I can’t scuffle any worse [than them]… I don’t see anything far-fetched in the realization of this plan. Two years ago no one could suppose that Serduchka would go to Eurovision and take second place there.”^[89] Andrei Danilko, in tandem with his alter ego Verka Serduchka, are trying to stay above the fray in a region haunted by political disputes, identity issues, language politics and an absence of conciliatory tones. As bilingually stated in the chorus of Verka’s song “Gulyanka” (a bash or hurrah) evoking the first line of the Ukrainian national anthem: Shche ne vmerla Ukraini, esli mi gulyaem tak! (Ukraine’s glory has not yet perished, as long as we carry on in such an uproarious way).^[90]