Following Bohdan Krawchenko’s intellectual trajectory, this conversation offers a look at how Ukrainian identities and institutions have been sustained and reconfigured across decades, continents, and shifting political contexts. It links Krawchenko’s student activism and community building in Canada, his engagement in Ukraine’s state-building after 1991, and the establishment of educational institutions in Central Asia.
The conversation is published in two parts. It was recorded during a discussion organized at the Invisible University for Ukraine Summer School 2025, “Beyond the Post-Soviet: Rethinking Environmental, Social, and Cultural Agency in Wartime Ukraine” (1–10 July 2025, Budapest), and was moderated by Ostap Sereda and Nadiia Chervinska.
Nadiia Chervinska
By the 1990s, you were one of the leading experts on Soviet and post-Soviet Ukraine. To what extent did your expectations of what could happen in Ukraine in the 1990s correspond to reality of what you actually found in Ukraine when you moved to Kyiv on a permanent basis in 1991?
Bohdan Krawchenko
Every day life did not surprise me; the big eye-opener was the “hollow state,” which I could closely observe from my vantage point. I came to Ukraine in January 1991 on a sabbatical leave, intending to write a book. Shortly after arriving, I met Bohdan Hawrylyshyn, who in 1989 established the International Institute of Management in Kyiv, financed by George Soros. They had also formed a Council of Advisors to the Praesidium of the Ukrainian Parliament, whose members included Sir Geoffrey Howe, Zbigniew Brzeziński, and Shirley Williams. At that time, the Praesidium, headed by Leonid Kravchuk, served as the political leadership of the country. The Council needed a Secretariat, and when Soros asked me about my plans, he said, “You can sit and write about history, or you can be part of its making.” I jumped at the opportunity. I spent a lot of time in the Verkhovna Rada, witnessing the key dramatic events that unfolded. I was a member of working groups on monetary reform and the anti-crisis programme. One of my tasks was to write a policy paper outlining the key steps Kravchuk should take in state-building when he assumed the presidency.
Under the Soviet regime, there was no civil service as such. The USSR was a bureaucratic behemoth because the state owned everything; the Communist Party existed at every level and institution, and GOSPLAN determined the economy. In this scheme of things, the actual “state,” especially in the republics, was small. When the entire Soviet edifice disintegrated, one found that Ukraine, with 52 million people (1991), had only 12,000 people working in central government agencies. The comparable number in Greece, with a population of 10 million people, was 60,000. Eighty percent of Ukraine’s economy was under the Union jurisdiction but now came under Ukrainian purview. Moreover, as a colony, Ukraine faced institutional incompleteness—no central bank, customs service, ministry of defence, a tiny ministry of finance that was in reality an accounting office. Since there was no justice under the Soviets, the Ministry of Justice had only 130 employees.
With independence, the central government had 35 agencies which retained the same names and people as in the previous period, although the functions of government had changed, and policy development was added, something few understood.
Kravchuk’s team agreed with my recommendation to establish a national school of public administration to educate a new cadre of civil servants who understood the challenges of the time, especially a market economy and rule of law. I became the founding director of the Institute of Public Administration and Local Government, Cabinet of Ministers, modelled after the French École nationale d’administration, which opened its doors in 1992. It was a rigorous, intensive 12-month programme ending with internships in Canada, France, or Germany. It recruited on a competitive basis current mid-career civil servants from central and oblast structures, who on graduation would either move to a new position in a government entity or be promoted at their previous place of employment. But much to my surprise no women had applied. When I called Volodymyr Piekhota, Minister of the Cabinet of Ministers, for an explanation he said that the heads of personnel departments did not realize women would be eligible. On the contrary, I said that at least 40% of the learners have to be women. He picked up the “vertushka” (government phone) and called every ministry. Two days later, we filled the quota. When I met Piekhota he asked, “Is this how you do it in Canada?” I said, “No, but your way is more efficient.”
Also in 1992, we wrote, and parliament passed a law on the civil service—the first such act in the former USSR—that defined the hierarchy of authority and established a system of rules governing the rights and duties of employment, promotion, and selection based on merit. I also managed to convince donors of the obvious fact that you can not teach courses without books, and they agreed to support an ambitious publications program implemented by Osnovy, which was established that year and headed by Solomiia Pavlychko.
Nadiia Chervinska
You mentioned Solomiia Pavlychko, who in the 1990s was one of the most prominent figures among the new generation of intellectuals. Together with Oksana Zabyzhko, Mykola Riabchuk, and many others they brought Western ideas and theories into the Ukrainian academia—feminism, postcolonial critique, poststructuralism, etc. What do you think about the emergence of this new generation and their positionality in the Ukrainian public sphere of the 1990s? How did they relate to the older generation of Ukrainian intellectuals—shistdesiatnyky and dissidents, and was there any friction between them?
Bohdan Krawchenko
Solomiia, like others, was working in institutions led by individuals whose intellectual and administrative practices had been shaped by the Soviet system. With glasnost, the Institute of Literature could finally discuss Ukrainian writers whom Soviet authorities had forbidden, and it became a hotbed of the national movement before 1991. However, when Solomiia and her colleagues sought to take their reading of Ukrainian literature further and apply the insights of contemporary literary criticism, they encountered resistance. I heard someone say, “We do not need Western fads. Lesia Ukrainka was a Ukrainian patriot, not a feminist,” as if one precluded the other. The “old guard,” apart from being culturally conservative, did not access new scholarship for the simple reason that they did not know foreign languages. However, for Solomiia, integration into the international scholarly community was a far greater priority than arguing with the current leadership. And there was Osnovy to take care of.
The broader problem was the state of the humanities and social sciences, which were the most politicised and tightly controlled by the Soviet regime. These fields, a key stepping stone to party careers, attracted mediocre students.
The smart ones studied math and physics, fields relatively free from ideological interference, and they were the most politically active groups in the mass movements. Recall, the 1990s expression—“фізики і лірики,” (physics and lyrics) and that all Rukh meetings in Kyiv were at the Polytechnical Institute, not Shevchenko University. A key social science, sociology, did not exist as a discipline. Natalia Chernysh was the first to receive a PhD in the field. During her dissertation defense in Kharkiv in 1991, I had to stand up and speak in support of the intellectual legitimacy of her study, as the academic council was inclined to deny her the degree.
Nadiia Chervinska
In one of the interviews, Marta Bochachevsky-Chomiak mentioned that you were one of those people who supported the publication of her now seminal book, Feminists Despite Themselves. Almost a decade after that, you co-founded Osnovy Publishing with Solomiia Pavlychko, supporting her when she became one of the key feminist figures in 1990s Ukraine. First, what led you to support feminist approaches in both cases, when they were highly dismissed at that time in Ukrainian studies? Secondly, beyond feminism, what other fields did you see as emerging or needing institutional support in the 1990s, when everything was reconfiguring and changing?
Bohdan Krawchenko
I was thrilled with her book and the catchy title. Following the emergence of women’s studies in the 1960s, publishing books in the field became obvious. The problem was the paucity of people researching the topic.
Living and working in Ukraine, I was taken aback by the blatant discrimination against women, where it was simply assumed that certain types of jobs would be only for men.
With this in mind, we supported Olha Kulachek’s work “The Role of Women in Public Administration” (Rol’ zhinky v derzhavnomy upravlinni) published by Osnovy in 1995. Surprisingly, I got a medal from the Ministry of Education for promoting gender studies.
With near-total employment, women bore the burden of domestic and childcare responsibilities. I dislike the whole charade on Women’s Day with flowers and obsequious praise of feminine qualities. The situation deteriorated in the 1990s, with mass unemployment among males, who often sat at home, depressed. Women turned en masse to the service sector and trade to keep the family afloat. The economic crisis debased the role of males as providers and was a cause of increased domestic violence. I often thought that while studying feminism, we should also research masculinity, its cultural and historical construction.
The fields needed in the 1990s were economics and sociology. At that time, not one single person with a Western degree in economics worked in the government. Another critical field was public policy, the application of knowledge to public problems—a concept that did not exist.
At the Institute of Public Administration, with World Bank support, we launched the Economics Training Centre. However, we were unable to recruit learners from the faculties of economics, because they lacked quantitative skills and would have to spend months unlearning Soviet concepts that shaped their understanding of economics. We recruited those with backgrounds in physics, math, and engineering because of their good quantitative skills and ability to understand theory.
Ostap Sereda
The 1990s are very often presented as a post-Soviet collapse, a very problematic period of transition with economic problems, poverty, the emergence of the oligarchic system, and so on. But if we keep in mind democratic mobilization that happened later and the subsequent events of the 21st century, maybe the 1990s could still be perceived as a success story. What is your picture of the 1990s Ukraine? How do you feel about the dynamic of that time?
Bohdan Krawchenko
It was somewhat surreal that the USSR collapsed “not with a bang, but with a whimper.” It was a great period of hope and discovery, so many new things happened. However, the first five years were also a period of colossal policy failure, revealing serious weaknesses in the political leadership’s understanding of social and economic processes and the actions that the government should take. Rukh did not have an economic programme, and during the miners’ strikes, it failed to develop a social vision with a broader appeal.
Understandably, the centre of attention was on building the basic institutions of the state, on the army, international recognition, politics, appointments, and measures to promote the national idea.
Ukraine’s economic structure led to a deep crisis, with the economy in free fall: savings wiped out and inflation was at 1,500%. Kravchuk and his patriotic supporters failed to take necessary steps for macroeconomic stabilization initially. These measures were only achieved under Kuchma. Ukraine adopted a neoliberal approach to economic transition favored by international financial organizations and certain Ukrainian circles. While Poland had “Shock Therapy,” Ukraine experienced “Shock without Therapy.” Under Kuchma, crony capitalism or oligarchic structures emerged, with a few powerful individuals capturing the economy and state, causing extreme inequality and corruption—similar to Russia’s social formation. The Orange Revolution interrupted this trend, leading to clashes between two social systems in 2014 and 2021. The key lesson of the 1990s is that economic and social issues are central to nation-building and must be prioritized for success. But nonetheless, the 1990s were a wonderful time to be alive, and I remember them with great nostalgia.
Nadiia Chervinska
In the 1990s, Ukraine was filled with reform agendas that came from foreign donors. The implementation of these reforms was sometimes partial and sometimes just symbolic. What are your thoughts on this “translation” of international policy models in Ukraine, and were there any particularly problematic reforms?
Bohdan Krawchenko
I witnessed first-hand the detrimental impact of externally imposed policy models in Ukraine, Central Asia, and Afghanistan. In Afghanistan, the failure to engage national stakeholders was so extreme that donors drafted development plans exclusively in English; these documents were never seen by Afghan ministers, who consequently had no stake in their implementation. This profound disconnect directly contributed to the government’s collapse and President Ashraf Ghani’s ignominious flight.
The central task for any country is the development of endogenous policy-making capacity. Solutions cannot be outsourced. This requires two elements: first, education in policy analysis methods, paired with deep, context-specific research.
The challenges facing Ukraine are analytically complex, with no simple solutions; they require rigorous investigation to develop practical strategies. Second, public policy must become the guiding paradigm for governmental decision-making. Currently, the public finds government processes to be opaque and often incomprehensible.
In functional European systems, each ministry is supported by a robust policy and evaluation unit that serves as its analytical engine, ensuring leadership makes informed decisions. One mechanism to enforce this standard is to mandate that all submissions to the Cabinet meet strict criteria: they must include a clear problem definition, a rationale for government intervention, proposed solutions with considered alternatives, a cost-benefit analysis, a regulatory impact assessment, and a summary of public consultations.
In the mid-1990s an international expert did a functional review of Ukraine’s Ministry of Finance. This is a critical ministry—it prepares the budget which is the main instrument of public policy and a place where you would expect policy analysis to occur. The review showed that only 4% of the tasks performed involved analysis—such as analyzing the efficiency of public spending, etc. The entire focus was on dealing with daily operational issue, putting out fires. “Rychne upravlinnia” (manual control) was the norm.
In 2000, as part of a team under Prime Minister Yushchenko, I helped draft and implement new regulations for the submission of documents to the Cabinet of Ministers. Furthermore, Ukraine once possessed a vibrant Institute of Public Administration, which educated a core cadre of civil servants in policy analysis—a programme supported by a body of literature from Osnovy publishers. Regrettably, this progress was halted when Yushchenko was replaced, and the successor Academy of Public Administration was later liquidated.
For Ukraine to progress, public sector reform must be a top priority.
Building national policy capacity and policy as the guiding principle for how government should work is a fundamental precondition for a successful fight against corruption and for building an effective state and European integration.
Ostap Sereda
Let us move to your work at the University of Central Asia. I think this is absolutely a unique experience for an intellectual and institution builder with a Ukrainian background. One of the ideas that we have in the Invisible University for Ukraine is to try to offer a platform where we can address global audiences who would be interested in Ukrainian studies. We were wondering what we can use as a possible optic to involve other audiences into our set of problems and issues.
Bohdan Krawchenko
Connecting to the ongoing decolonization discussions is a starting point for what you want to undertake. Kazakhstan has the most robust conversations on this score. For example, the Qalam Institute in Kazakhstan is a think tank that focuses on decolonization and modernization.
There is considerable interest in and support for Ukraine. The issue is not to involve other audiences in Ukraine’s problems. Social media is doing that. Instead, there is much to be gained on both sides by promoting a comparative analysis of historical, linguistic, cultural and other aspects of decolonization.
Do not forget, a higher proportion of the Kazakh population died during collectivization than in Ukraine, and there is interest in how we advanced the study and documentation of Holodomor. The younger generation in Kazakhstan feels no nostalgia for the USSR and is quite confident in asserting its national identity. Understanding each other’s experiences lays the foundations for solidarity. And, by the way, the Soviets incarcerated thousands of Ukrainian political prisoners in Kazakhstan, and some of the sites are memorialized there.
Nadiia Chervinska
I would like to continue with the question about the educational reforms. One of the critiques of post-Soviet higher education is that it still continues to operate with the Soviet educational models, even if it uses the Western language or administrative models. Partially, that is because, as we already discussed, a lot of foreign donors bring educational reforms with very little regard for the local realities and systems of knowledge. How do you see this situation in Ukraine and Central Asia?
Bohdan Krawchenko
Foreign donors are not particularly concerned with supporting higher education or imposing their models. It is pretty remarkable that building human capacity and expertise—central to economic development and democratic governance—was a low priority. For example, in Ukraine, in 2002, only 1.5% of total donor assistance, amounting to $5.2 million, was allocated to education in general, and higher education likely received a small fraction of that. In Afghanistan, where building a mass of educated people was obviously crucial, only 0.001% of aid was allocated to higher education support in 2019, despite billions in total assistance. However, at a 2024 conference of US officials and experts summarising lessons learned, the main speaker concluded that “the only lasting achievement of 20 years of US intervention was the creation of human capital.” Yet, this key achievement received the least funding. So far, the most significant “foreign intervention” has been Ukraine’s participation in the Bologna Process—integrating Ukrainian higher education into the European education space—which is a positive development.
Higher education in Ukraine faces numerous problems, including inadequate financing, low quality in many cases, programmes that do not align with labour market needs, bureaucratization and formalism, a lack of autonomy, brain drain, corruption, COVID and the war.
But first, a bit of historical background. In the Soviet period, developing a broad university system was not a priority. In 1986, there were 10 universities in Ukraine with around 350,000 students. Kyrgyzstan, along with nine other republics, had only one university. An economic-instrumentalist paradigm drove higher education. Universities were not centres of research; that was the purview of the Academy of Science and scores of specialized research institutions. Approximately 140 specialized institutes dominate the higher education sector. The government determined the curriculum, and planning authorities set quotas on enrollments in every field. Higher education served the needs of the Soviet economy and the political system. Getting into university was difficult, and parents pulled every string to get their child in. However, in 1991, the Soviet system unravelled, but the mechanisms of government control over higher education and educational institutions remained.
After independence, higher education expanded rapidly. However, this was during a time of deep economic crisis, with no funds for facilities, libraries, laboratories, or salaries, which led to instructors teaching in multiple institutions to make ends meet. Quality obviously suffered.
Government policy was to liberalize procedures for establishing universities, and many institutes and technicums were converted into universities, while private universities were also allowed. There was a massive growth in student enrolment because of pent-up social demand. Higher education was a social aspiration, and its correspondence to the labour market was a secondary issue. The government’s control over education remained, and corruption was rampant at all levels. Higher education became a breeding ground for youth cynicism, and the primary goal was to obtain a diploma, not to acquire knowledge. By 1999, there were 874 higher educational institutions in Ukraine, of which 21 were universities, the rest being other types of higher educational institutions, including 313 private ones. Ukraine had some 1.7 million students.
The situation today is different because of the war and other factors. I have not studied the current situation but let me offer some observations. University reform is one of the most complex areas of public policy, because the stakes are so high and the number of stakeholders is large. This means that serious analytical work and public consultations with key players are needed, and various options should be considered.
Reforms to date tended to be done in parcels, and what seems to be missing is an overall picture of what kind of university system the country needs and can afford. The public has to see the forest for the trees.
But who can lead this process? The Ministry of Education policy unit employs eight people. In a European country there would be scores of experts. Who in Ukraine is analyzing higher education in all its dimensions, including the economic angle—return on investment? National Academy of Pedagogical Sciences? Are there independent policy centres working on this? Or is Ukraine going to rely on Western consultants as in the past.
Ukraine’s social landscape has changed in the last couple of years. The economy is different and big technological advances have been made. Especially important is that hundreds of young academics and graduate students have had various kinds of engagements with European and international academic institutions. A significant intellectual diaspora is now working in European universities and research centres, and some 150,000 young people are attending university. Ukraine has a large pool of new human resources. The question is what is required for them bring new wind into the sails of Ukrainian higher education.
Discussing higher education in Ukraine, we focus on problems. However, a helpful way to understand the possibilities is to look at what went right.
Ukraine’s vibrant IT sector suggests that there are institutions that are producing qualified specialists. Analysing which institutions are doing well and how they accomplish this provides valuable insights for reform efforts. Today, we do not know this.
Let me give you an example. I am intrigued by Ukraine’s 2018 PISA scores. Ukraine occupied the same rank as France in math scores. However, France spent $10,000 per student per year, while Ukraine spent around $1,700. How was this accomplished in Ukraine? Identify the key factors of this outcome and concentrate support on them.
The absence of schools and faculties of continuing education in Ukrainian higher education is a considerable gap. Europe’s highest growth in higher education is in continuing and short-cycle education, where universities provide quality-assured, flexible micro-credentials. Nowhere is this need more acute than in Ukraine, where economic growth and employment will be driven by small and medium-sized businesses whose success and added value depend on the application of technology. Immediate upskilling through well-designed short courses can have a significant economic impact. The same will apply to the large-scale need to retrain military personnel for new civilian occupations.
This conversation is published in two parts—read the first part here.