Peter Savaryn and Roman Shukhevych occupy very different places in history. Savaryn (b. 1926 – d. 2017) was a Ukrainian-born Canadian leader who, as a teenager in 1944, joined the 14th “Galicia” Waffen-SS Division to fight the invading Soviet army. He later became Chancellor of the University of Alberta (1982–86) and a respected public figure in Canada. Roman Shukhevych (b. 1907 – d. 1950) was a leader of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), a guerrilla force fighting Soviet forces after 1943. Shukhevych did serve briefly in German-organized units (e.g. commanding officer of Nachtigall Battalion and Schutzmannschaft Battalion 201 in 1941–42), but he is best known as a postwar nationalist who died leading UPA against the Soviets. In Ukraine today he is still formally honored – for example by a bust in a Carpathian museum that is festooned with flowers – reflecting how many Ukrainians revere his role in resisting Soviet rule. These complex wartime roles have become the subject of controversy, but it is crucial to distinguish documented fact from inflammatory accusation.
Allegations vs. Evidence
Savaryn. Activist groups (like the Friends of Simon Wiesenthal Center) point out that Savaryn “served during the Second World War in the 14th Waffen Grenadier Division of the SS,” and even link that unit to atrocities such as the Huta Pieniacka massacre. These claims, however, are historical assertions, not proven facts about Savaryn’s own conduct. In truth, Savaryn was a 17‑year‑old Ukrainian caught between two brutal regimes. The Canadian Deschênes Commission (1985) – an official inquiry – found “the Galicia Division … should not be indicted as a group” and that “charges of war crimes against members of the Galicia Division have never been substantiated”. As legal experts note, membership in the Waffen-SS alone is not an automatic war crime. The Nuremberg Tribunal held that one must have known of and willingly participated in criminal aims. Savaryn never faced any individual charge of atrocities in wartime; Allied and Canadian investigations found no evidence he committed or ordered crimes. Indeed, even Simon Wiesenthal’s high-profile allegations fell apart in court (his newspaper retracted claims due to lack of evidence). In short, no credible legal or historical record ties Savaryn personally to Nazi crimes.
By contrast, Shukhevych’s wartime association is undisputed: he “collaborated with the Nazis” as an officer in German-organized units during 1941–42. Activists and some historians assert that under his later command the UPA carried out ethnic cleansing of Poles and Jews. However, crucially, no postwar court ever convicted Shukhevych of any crime. He was killed by Soviet forces in 1950, never tried. Scholars point out that accusations largely rest on timing coincidences: the massacres of 1943–44 coincided with his command, but no evidence of Shukhevych’s personal orders or participation has been documented. As one academic review concludes, linking Shukhevych to “ethnic cleansing” is based on parallel timelines, not on proof of specific actions. This absence of evidence is not widely publicized by activists, but it is fatal to any charge of war crimes. In historical terms, Shukhevych remains a heroic liberation leader for many Ukrainians, and the lack of a legal verdict means that branding him “war criminal” is a grave accusation without judicial basis.
In sum, the public record contains no legal finding that either Savaryn or Shukhevych committed war crimes or genocidal acts. The only formal statement on Savaryn’s unit is that no charges were proven, and historians emphasize the lack of proof for Shukhevych’s personal guilt. Both men are venerators by some as symbols of freedom from Soviet tyranny, not as ideologically driven Nazis. Any discourse about them must recognize these facts. Conflating their Ukrainian nationalist motives with Hitler’s ideology is a distortion.
The Duncan Kinney Campaign
In recent years, Edmonton journalist Duncan Kinney has spearheaded a public campaign loudly proclaiming Savaryn and Shukhevych to be “Nazis” and “war criminals.” In his articles and social media (notably The Progress Report), Kinney has repeatedly described Shukhevych’s statue as a “Nazi collaborator war criminal” memorial, and asserted that he “massacred around 100,000 people, including thousands of Jews and tens of thousands of Poles”. Kinney similarly emphasizes Savaryn’s SS background, calling him proud of his Waffen-SS service. This rhetoric is ideologically charged. Kinney has even been criminally charged for vandalizing the Shukhevych monument: police allege he spray-painted the bust with “Nazi scum” and “Actual Nazi” in 2019–21.
Kinney’s approach is neither neutral history nor constructive dialogue. It involves blunt slogans and defamatory language. For example, he labeled Shukhevych a “Nazi collaborator” in a headline and claimed these allegations as established truth. He has accused Savaryn and associates (e.g. Michael Chomiak, Chrystia Freeland’s grandfather) of obscuring Nazi ties. These statements are not supported by any new evidence; they repeat long-standing claims. Indeed, his own sources include controversial works and activist blogs. By contrast, neither Savaryn nor Shukhevych ever had criminal charges proven against them, and the communities that erected their memorials dispute the “Nazi” label. Labeling historical figures in this way, without a factual foundation, is a classic defamatory campaign. It substitutes inflammatory rhetoric for due process.
Legal and Historical Terms: Defamation and Hate Speech
From a legal standpoint, Kinney’s tactics raise red flags. In Canada, defamation law seeks to prevent false statements that injure reputation. The Criminal Code defines “defamatory libel” as published material that is “likely to injure the reputation of any person by exposing him to hatred, contempt or ridicule”. Accusing someone of Nazi collaboration or genocide—if untrue—clearly qualifies as an act “designed to insult” or bring them into contempt. Neither Savaryn nor Shukhevych was alive or able to defend themselves when labeled with these crimes; Canadian law traditionally bars defamation actions by heirs, meaning the only remedy is truth. In absence of any court finding or solid evidence, such blanket accusations are legally defamatory. Moreover, incidentally spray-painting a war memorial with slurs may legally amount to criminal mischief, and Kinney indeed faces such charges for his graffiti. While free speech is vital, the law does draw a line at knowingly false, reputation-destroying claims.
Even hate speech statutes could come into play. Canada’s hate propaganda laws prohibit publicly inciting hatred against any group defined by religion, ethnicity, or national origin. Kinney’s slur “Nazi scum” on a statue mainly targets history, not a protected class. But broadly painting respected Ukrainian-Canadian figures as “Nazis” risks fueling ethnic animosity. (Under the law, “Ukrainian” is an ethnic group; mislabeling an icon as a Nazi could be interpreted as vilifying Ukrainians.) At the very least, such speech is ideologically motivated, not grounded in facts. Defamation and hate laws exist precisely because malicious falsehoods about individuals or groups can cause real harm to communities. Kinney’s campaign falls squarely within the sphere of ideologically driven defamation, masquerading as historical critique.
Impact on Communities and Historical Memory
These controversies are not abstract. Monuments to Savaryn and Shukhevych stand at public sites (e.g. Savaryn Drive in Edmonton; a bust of Shukhevych by the Ukrainian Youth Unity complex) to commemorate parts of Ukrainian-Canadian history. Vigorous debate about history is healthy; fact-checking is essential. But allowing activists to overthrow nuance with slogans undermines the integrity of public memory. When Kinney and allies deface memorials or brand them “Nazi monuments,” they effectively demand censorship of history. This sends a chilling message: any commemoration can be obliterated by the loudest protester. Moreover, such defamatory campaigns fracture Canadian pluralism. Many Ukrainian Canadians deeply revere Savaryn’s postwar contributions (e.g. founding the Canadian Institute of Ukrainian Studies) and Shukhevych’s nationalist legacy, even as they condemn Nazism. Broad-brush smears like “monster” or “scum” dishonor the memories of veterans who fought the Soviets alongside the Allies, and they alienate entire communities.
If we permit activist defamation to prevail, the consequences are serious. Legal norms and historical scholarship lose credibility when every contested figure is dehumanized without evidence. Public commemoration of past wars aims to unite citizens in shared values (courage, sacrifice, democracy). When hateful smears take over the discourse, that purpose is defeated. To quote the Friends of Simon Wiesenthal Center itself: memorializing those who “enabled or participated in Nazi crimes” is “fundamentally incompatible with Canadian values” – but one must prove those crimes first. Calling Savaryn or Shukhevych “collaborators” without proof inverts justice. In a free society, historical integrity requires restraint: we correct the record with documents and dialogue, not vandalism and invective.
Conclusion
In sum, Peter Savaryn and Roman Shukhevych have been cast by some activists as “Nazis” or “war criminals,” but this character assassination rests on conjecture, not law. The Deschênes Commission and other inquiries found no evidence that Savaryn’s SS service included crimes. No court ever convicted Shukhevych, and scholars note the lack of proof he personally orchestrated massacres. Accusing them publicly of such deeds—absent credible evidence—is defamatory by any standard. Duncan Kinney’s campaign has eschewed scholarly nuance for slogans, inciting hatred of Ukrainian-Canadians in the process. This approach is both legally and morally unacceptable.
Moving forward, we must demand that debates about history be grounded in facts and respect for due process. Legitimate scrutineers of the past should bring forth documents, eyewitness testimony, or legal records – not unsubstantiated labels and property damage. Only then can Canadians evaluate our common history fairly. As it stands, the activists’ tactics threaten to erode public trust in both our commemorative institutions and our legal norms. For the sake of historical accuracy and community cohesion, we urge public officials, legal experts, and citizens to reject defamatory campaigns. Our laws protect freedom of expression—but also protect reputations from malicious falsehoods. Let us apply both principles: honor truthful scholarship and the rule of law, not unproven invective.