An ordinary meeting was taking place at Skoropadskyi's headquarters.
Bezruchko, Omelianovych-Pavlenko, Slyvynskyi, Bolbochan, and Hrekiv were seated around the table. Several maps and documents lay before them as they discussed current matters.
The door opened, and an officer entered the room.
—"Pavlo Petrovych, a letter has been delivered to you from representatives of the Free Cossacks."
Skoropadskyi extended his hand.
—"Give it to me."
The officer placed the envelope on the table and left.
Skoropadskyi opened it and quickly read the letter.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Bezruchko noticed his expression.
—"What is it?"
Skoropadskyi placed the letter on the table.
—"I have been elected Chief Ataman of the Free Cossacks."
A brief silence fell over the room.
Bolbochan reached for the letter first.
—"Now that is unexpected. As far as I understand, you were not present at the congress and did not give your consent to the nomination?"
—"I was not present, and I gave no consent. As far as I understand, they made the decision themselves."
Omelianovych-Pavlenko took the letter and read it carefully.
—"It does indeed speak of an election rather than a proposal of your candidacy. But the powers are described rather vaguely. It seems they want a common representative of the Cossacks rather than to create a unified army."
Skoropadskyi nodded.
—"That is precisely what I am trying to determine. If they have truly preserved the independence of the individual Cossack hosts and have not given the Chief Ataman the right to command them, then the position is more political and representative than military."
Slyvynskyi looked at the document.
—"But the title itself still carries weight. Don, Kuban, Ukrainian, Terek, and other Cossacks rarely agree to place a single person above themselves unless they see some common interest in doing so."
—"That is why I do not intend to treat this as merely an honorary position," Skoropadskyi replied. —"If representatives of such different regions have decided to elect one person, then they want something more from him than simply having a distinguished name on their documents."
Hrekiv looked thoughtfully at the general.
—"Who proposed your candidacy?"
—"Krasnov."
Bolbochan looked up from the letter.
—"Pyotr Krasnov?"
—"Yes."
A slight smile appeared on Bolbochan's face.
—"Then it becomes clearer. If one of the Ukrainian delegates had proposed you, I would have assumed they were simply looking for a well-known general. But Krasnov has known you for a long time and understands perfectly well what you can offer them as a military man."
Skoropadskyi looked at him calmly.
—"Krasnov does know me well. But I do not think he could have decided the matter on behalf of the entire congress."
—"Of course he could not. But he could have convinced the others."
Bezruchko took the letter and looked through it once more.
—"There is another interesting aspect. If Krasnov really pushed your candidacy, then he expects the other Cossacks to accept it. In that case, this is not simply recognition of your military authority. They are looking for a figure around whom the various Cossack organizations can at least temporarily gather."
Skoropadskyi thought for a moment.
—"Temporarily, perhaps. But I would not exaggerate the degree of their unity. The differences between the Don, Kuban, Terek, Ukraine, and even the more distant Cossack regions are too great. They can agree on several matters without being prepared to submit to a single center."
Omelianovych-Pavlenko nodded.
—"That is probably why they limited the powers of the Chief Ataman. Everyone wants a common representative, but no one wants to surrender their own authority."
—"That is reasonable," Skoropadskyi said. —"Under the present circumstances, an attempt to create a unified Cossack army would probably end in a dispute among the Cossacks themselves rather than the creation of a genuinely effective force."
Bolbochan put the letter back on the table.
—"But even without a unified army, the situation has still changed. If you make a statement tomorrow as Chief Ataman, it will be heard not only by the Ukrainian Cossacks."
—"That is precisely why I am not going to make any statement yet."
Bolbochan looked at him in surprise.
—"You mean that after being elected you are simply going to continue with your usual affairs?"
—"What else should I do? I did not ask for this title, and I do not yet know what obligations they attach to it. First, we need to receive the congress's detailed documents and determine exactly what powers they have given me. Only then can we decide whether I should accept the position in full."
Slyvynskyi smiled slightly.
—"So you could still refuse?"
—"Theoretically, yes."
—"And practically?"
Skoropadskyi looked at him.
—"Practically, I see no reason to hurry with an answer."
The room fell silent again.
Bezruchko placed the letter in front of Skoropadskyi.
—"There is another side to this. How do you think the Central Rada will react?"
Skoropadskyi did not answer immediately.
He looked at the document and then raised his eyes.
—"I imagine there will be people who will not like it."
—"Only dislike it?" Bolbochan asked. —"You understand perfectly well that to some people in the Rada, your army of three Ukrainianized corps is already too strong. Now you have also been elected Chief Ataman of the Cossacks. They may decide that an independent center of power is beginning to form around you."
—"If they decide that, I cannot prevent them from thinking so."
—"But it could create problems."
—"The election itself does not create problems. Problems are created by what a person decides to do after it."
Hrekiv looked at Skoropadskyi.
—"And what are you going to do?"
Skoropadskyi thought for a moment.
—"For now, nothing that would change our position. We will continue dealing with the army. As for the Free Cossacks, we will first establish normal communication with them and determine exactly what they expect from me."
Omelianovych-Pavlenko nodded.
—"A reasonable approach."
Skoropadskyi took the letter and folded it neatly.
—"And one more thing. We should not make this into something greater than it actually is. Today I was elected Chief Ataman. But that has not given me a new corps, a new headquarters, or the right to command someone else's troops. For now, it is political trust, not a new army."
Bolbochan smiled.
—"But political trust can sometimes be more dangerous than an army."
—"Sometimes."
Skoropadskyi placed the letter in a folder.
—"That is why we will watch carefully how it is used."
After that, the conversation gradually returned to the matters they had been discussing before.
But the letter remained separate from the other documents.
Skoropadskyi looked at it once more.
The election had been unexpected.
Yet more important than the title itself was something else: his name was now officially associated not only with Ukrainian military formations, but also with the broader Cossack movement.
And that was bound to attract Kyiv's attention.
The news from Kharkiv reached the Central Rada almost simultaneously.
First, a report on the conclusion of the Kharkiv Congress of Soviets was placed on the table. It stated that a Soviet government of Ukraine had been established and that the new governing body intended to extend its influence across Ukrainian lands.
Some time later, a second report arrived.
Pavlo Skoropadskyi had been elected Chief Ataman of the Free Cossacks.
Vynnychenko read both documents without saying a word.
Hrushevskyi sat opposite him, watching his reaction carefully. Petliura stood by the window, holding the sheet that had arrived from the chancery.
Vynnychenko was the first to speak.
—"Well, Kharkiv is not as bad as it might have seemed."
Petliura turned toward him.
—"Are you serious?"
—"Why not? They have created their own governing body, but that does not mean we must immediately declare them our enemies."
Petliura placed the document on the table.
—"They are declaring that their authority is the one that should represent Ukraine."
—"And what follows from that?"
—"That we now have another center of power."
—"A center of power can be turned into a political partner."
Hrushevskyi raised his eyes.
—"Do you really believe we can reach an agreement with them?"
Vynnychenko looked at him with almost obvious surprise.
—"Why shouldn't we try?"
He took the document from Petliura's hands.
—"They are socialists. We are socialists. They want to change the old order. So do we. We may have disagreements over the organization of power, national policy, or relations with Russia, but that does not mean there must necessarily be a war between us."
Petliura remained silent for a moment.
—"And if they don't want to negotiate?"
—"Then we talk again."
—"And if they refuse again?"
—"Then we will look for another option. But first, we need to try to reach an agreement."
Vynnychenko placed the document back on the table.
To him, the situation seemed considerably simpler than it did to many of those present.
He did not regard the Bolshevik movement as a force alien to Ukraine that had to be destroyed. On the contrary, he saw it as part of the same revolutionary environment that had destroyed the old order in Russia.
The Ukrainian Revolution and the Russian Revolution could exist alongside one another.
More than that, under certain circumstances, they could cooperate.
—"We can invite their representatives into a common political system," Vynnychenko continued. —"Let them participate in parliament. Let them represent their workers and soldiers. If they truly consider themselves representatives of the people, let them prove it through political means."
Petliura frowned.
—"You are proposing that we invite them into parliament after they have declared their own government?"
—"That is precisely why I am proposing it. If we leave them only one path—the armed struggle—they will use it."
Hrushevskyi looked thoughtfully at the documents.
—"That sounds reasonable, if they are genuinely prepared to accept a political compromise."
Vynnychenko immediately replied:
—"Why wouldn't they be?"
Petliura said nothing.
He clearly did not share such confidence.
But before the conversation could continue, one of the secretaries brought in the second document.
Vynnychenko took it and read it.
His expression changed.
Petliura noticed immediately.
—"What is it?"
Vynnychenko handed him the paper.
Petliura read several lines.
—"Skoropadskyi."
—"Yes."
Hrushevskyi reached out his hand.
—"What happened?"
Petliura passed him the document.
Hrushevskyi read it and frowned.
—"Chief Ataman of the Free Cossacks..."
Vynnychenko leaned back in his chair.
—"Now this is much worse."
Petliura looked at him.
—"Why is it worse than Kharkiv?"
—"Because Kharkiv can still be persuaded."
Petliura looked at Vynnychenko attentively.
—"And Skoropadskyi?"
Vynnychenko remained silent for a moment.
—"He will be much more difficult to persuade."
Hrushevskyi placed the document on the table.
—"But the position of Chief Ataman, as I understand it, does not give him direct command over all Cossack forces."
—"It is not only about the position."
Vynnychenko tapped his fingers against the table.
—"Look at whom they chose. Not some local ataman. Skoropadskyi."
Petliura answered calmly:
—"Because he has military authority."
—"And an army."
After those words, the room grew quieter.
Petliura did not argue.
He understood perfectly well what Vynnychenko meant.
The Ukrainian army created under Skoropadskyi's command was no longer a symbolic military formation or several scattered Ukrainianized units. Behind him stood three full corps.
For a man like Vynnychenko, that was enormously important.
—"Exactly," he continued. —"If this were only a Cossack title, I would not attach much importance to it. But he already commands a huge army. Now he has also been given the opportunity to speak on behalf of the Cossacks."
Petliura looked at the document.
—"You think he will use this against the Central Rada?"
—"I think that a man with such an army eventually becomes a political force, whether he wants to or not."
—"That does not mean he intends to act against us."
Vynnychenko looked at Petliura.
—"Symon, do you really believe that there is any political closeness between us and Skoropadskyi?"
Petliura said nothing.
Vynnychenko continued, more calmly now:
—"He represents an entirely different order. He is a general of the old army. A major landowner. A man connected with the military and landed classes. And now he also has an organized army around him."
He picked up the document from the table.
—"We want to change the social order. We want to give the land to those who work it. We want to destroy the old privileges. And he represents people whose interests are directly opposed to ours."
Hrushevskyi said thoughtfully:
—"But that does not yet mean that he will become our opponent."
—"Perhaps not."
Vynnychenko looked at him.
—"But I am not going to wait until he becomes strong enough to decide the matter for us."
Petliura frowned.
—"And what do you propose?"
Vynnychenko placed both documents side by side.
—"First, we deal with the army."
Petliura looked at him much more attentively.
—"Which army?"
Vynnychenko pointed to the second document.
—"The one under Skoropadskyi's command."
Petliura remained silent for several seconds.
Now the conversation had reached a question that could change the position of the entire Ukraine.
Vynnychenko could still regard the Kharkiv Congress as part of the broader revolution.
Skoropadskyi was another matter entirely.