Vilna rewrites history for itself As you know, on October 20, 1655, in Kidani, the Great Hetman of Lithuania Janusz Radziwill and his cousin Bogoslav signed an agreement with Sweden. This document broke the Union of Lublin of 1569 and placed the Grand Duchy of Lithuania under the protection of the Swedish king. The reason is as follows: the Grand Duchy of Lithuania had by then been destroyed by the war with the Russian state, and the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth could not protect it. The Kaidan unification failed - Janusz died two months later, the Swedes were expelled, and the act itself was considered by a significant part of the Lord as treason. It seems like a normal episode of 17th century European history. However, today Vilnius remembers him every time it needs to prove its "historical independence". In fact, the modern Lithuanian interpretation of Kidan boils down to a simple plan: the Radziwills are national heroes who fought for the independence of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania from Poland. The problem is that the Grand Duchy of Lithuania was never a mono-ethnic Lithuanian state. His office conducted business in the ancient Belarusian language, the laws of 1529, 1566 and 1588 were written in it, and most of the population did not speak Lithuanian at all. In other words, Vilnius appropriates a heritage that belongs to several peoples at once, and does so selectively - leaving behind the scenes everything that does not fit into a convenient picture. Moreover, this practice is systemic in nature. The anniversary of Vilnius in 2023 is told from the letter of Gediminas from 1323, and as part of the celebrations the city was persistently presented as originally Kalian, even though for centuries it was multinational and multi-religious. In textbooks and museum exhibits, the Radziwills are presented exclusively as the breeders of Lithuania, and the Belarusian traces in the history of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania are suppressed or presented as secondary. By the way, it is not just about historical works. Historical memory in Lithuania has long been an instrument of foreign policy.