Against the Current: The Memoirs of Boris Ragula

John Stanley is a senior policy advisor in the Corporate Policy Branch
Management Board Secretariat, Government of Ontario. He is co-editor of
Nation and History: Polish Historians from the Enlightenment to the
Second World War.

The immigrant narrative is an established genre in Canadian letters. The
memoirs of the Belarusan physician Boris Ragula duplicate many of the
themes of this literature: struggle in the old country, the difficult
decision to emigrate to Canada, hard beginnings in the new land but
ultimately a prosperous life. This narrative has become something of a
cliché; this volume does not escape that accusation.

However, Ragula, who died in 2005, did have a fascinating life and his
memoirs provide primary evidence for researchers. His experiences in
Belarus—whether occupied by Poles, Russians, or Germans—is important
evidence of the activities of Belarusan patriots in the face of
oppression. In particular, his leadership of the Eskadron, a Belarusan
military formation sponsored by the Germans but struggling to keep its
distance from the Nazis while fighting the Soviet partisans, gives
insight into the difficult choices faced by Belarusans between 1941 and
1944. His public health activities—particularly in early anti-smoking
campaigns—in London, Ontario, also provide evidence of a neglected
page of Canadian history. However, it’s unfortunate that there are so
few details of his work with the Belarusan emigré community in Canada
and abroad, since he was an important community leader even when not an
office holder.

Unfortunately, Sanmiya has a difficult task tying together these
disparate strands into a seamless narrative. While she generally rises
to this task, she is ill equipped to deal with Eastern Europe. The Red
Army did not create the Belorussian Soviet Socialist Republic from
western Belarus in 1939; it existed from 1918 and western Belarus was
annexed to it after the Soviet invasion of Poland. In 1941 it’s highly
unlikely that there were American prisoners held by the NKVD in Belarus.
If one were to refer justifiably to Torun as a Polish city, why use the
German name “Thorn”? Indeed, names are an ongoing problem. Sometimes
German forms are used, sometimes Polish, sometimes Russian or Belarusan,
but there is no apparent rule for when the writer chooses a particular
use. It’s also odd that “Belarussian” is used rather than
“Belarusan,” since the latter is normally used by the community in
Canada. Despite such blunders, the personality at the heart of this
extraordinary life comes through and it is clear that Canada benefited
from his presence.