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Associate professor of Ukrainian studies at the University of Cambridge and a former Fulbright Scholar at Penn in the 2018-19 academic year Andrii Smytsniuk discusses recent Ukraine events in relation to Penn. 

Credit: Derek Wong

On Feb. 28, I, like many Ukrainians all around the world, watched as the man who once was called “the leader of the free world” berated the man tasked with militarily defending it. As shameful as I believed the exchange to be, President Donald Trump and I have one thing in common: our time spent at the University of Pennsylvania, where he spent as an undergraduate, and where I was placed for a transformative year as a Fulbright Scholar. 

For many of my friends in Ukraine, Penn was an unfamiliar name, so I often explained that it was the alma mater of then- and soon-to-return president and Elon Musk. Their reactions to this fact were mixed — some were intrigued, others dismayed — but all recognized that the university had a reputation for shaping future decision-makers. Now, as I witness these figures show blatant disrespect for my country, I feel embarrassed, as I know many of my fellow Penn alumni do, of the association. 

Studying economics at the same university which was attended by Trump naturally led to discussions about what it means to be a Penn student. What exactly were students learning here, and what values were they bringing out into the world after their tenure? Would I, too, be shaped by the same forces? What values does the university uphold, and do its graduates truly embody them? 

Being an exchange student, I was never entirely sure what Penn’s core values were. My time there was relatively brief, and now I am far removed, living and teaching on another continent. While on Penn's campus, Penn often seemed negative — like its status as the "Social Ivy" or its view of language study as a "GPA booster" by many students — there were also aspects of Penn that I found refreshing. Coming from Europe, I was fascinated by the casual approach to the dress code — students would attend class in flip-flops and sweatpants, and yet this did not diminish the validity of their academic arguments presented in class. 

Generally, Ukraine was not a frequent topic of discussion among the students in my other courses like economics and computer science, and as someone from a country that many of my classmates knew little or nothing about, I sought out a symbol of connection — a towering statue of King Solomon by the Ukrainian cubist sculptor who settled in the U.S. — Alexander Archipenko, situated near Van Pelt-Dietrich Library. King Solomon most famously ordered that a baby of suspected parentage be cut in half. The mother who begged for her child to be removed from her care but spared bisection was concluded to be the true and deserving caregiver of the child. There is something reminiscent of Trump’s treatment of Zelensky, with the choices being to either cut your country in half or die in pursuit of its integrity. Sadly, Trump has historically appeared to lack the wisdom, compassion, or sense of justice embodied by King Solomon, particularly as he has a noted personal axe to grind with Zelensky for his refusal to participate in Trump’s blackmail of Biden, for which Trump was impeached. King Solomon’s wisdom lies not only in intelligence and the ability to find a quick and effective conflict resolution, but rather in applying that intelligence to do good and bring justice. It is precisely this kind of wisdom that I fail to see in the treatment of Ukraine by a Penn graduate who now occupies the Oval Office. 

Universities undoubtedly cannot be held responsible for the actions of every one of their alumni, and by Trump’s attitude towards higher education, he won’t do Penn any favors either. However, when it comes to Ukraine, Penn could do more, specifically in its academic study of Ukraine. The Slavic Languages Department during my time there was ambiguous in many ways. On the one hand, it was investing in the study of Ukrainian by inviting me to teach Ukrainian to their students; on the other, it has changed its name to reflect more of its Russian rather than Slavic nature. While Russian is by far the most popular language, I believe that focusing Eastern European studies on it or singling it out among the Eastern European languages inevitably leads to the marginalization of other Slavic languages. Penn could offer Ukrainian studies the same academic resources it allocates to Russian studies and allow the students to major in their study of Ukraine. 

In the end, I have decided to change how I speak about my time at Penn. I will no longer introduce it to my Ukrainian friends by listing its most famous graduates. In fact, I may not mention it at all. There is a sense of embarrassment in knowing that I once studied within the same walls as those who now show such disregard for the principles of justice and wisdom — values that should define not only a university but the leaders it produces. Penn must introspect as to what its role should be in the world, and what values it seeks to instill in its student body during their formative years. Archipenko’s Solomon still gazes from his place by the library. How would he judge what he sees? 

ANDRII SMYTSNIUK is an associate professor of Ukrainian at the University of Cambridge and a former Fulbright scholar at Penn in the 2018-19 academic year. His email is as3020@cam.ac.uk.