Artykuły w czasopismach na temat „Manuscripts, old norse – congresses”

Abstract Guðbrandur Vigfússon, an Icelander born in Galtardalur, Dalasýsla, was without doubt one of the most influential scholars of Old Norse studies of his day. His diplomatic edition of Flateyjarbók, his critical edition of Sturlunga saga, and his anthology An Icelandic Prose Reader are still of use to those without access to the relevant manuscripts. In this essay, I would like to survey his career (in Copenhagen and Oxford) as an editor of Old Norse-Icelandic texts and the legacy that he has left to his successors in the field of Old Norse studies.

This article traces the manuscript filiation and the routes of textual transmission of Viðrǿða líkams ok sálar, the first soul-and-body debate that is preserved in Old Norse translation, a fairly faithful yet succinct translation of the Anglo-Norman poem known alternatively as Desputisun de l’âme et du corps and Un Samedi par nuit. The Norse text survives today in four manuscripts: AM 619 4to (Old Norwegian Homily Book), AM 696 XXXII 4to, AM 764 4to, and JS 405 8vo. Through a qualitative analysis of concurrent readings, the present study confirms and expands the stemma hypothesized by Ole Widding and Hans Bekker-Nielsen in 1959. The presence in the Norse text of readings typical of a newly identified “Continental tradition” within the Anglo-Norman family of manuscripts indicates that the nowlost manuscript source may have been a French codex, produced in all probability in a Flemish Benedictine monastery (Picardy, northeastern Artois or Hainaut) during the second half of the twelfth century. Subsequently, the codex may have been transferred from Flanders to a sister Benedictine house in Norway—such as Munkeliv in Bergen—via well-attested profitable monastic and trade networks that connected Flemish and Norwegian scriptoria between the twelfth and the fourteenth centuries.

Abstract: In a collection of essays, thirteen writers discuss texts from medieval Britain and beyond, the common theme being translation or events abroad. Helen Fulton describes manuscripts and libraries in Wales; Elena Parina, Welsh medical texts; Victoria Flood, English Tudor versions of Welsh political prophecies. Joanna Bellis sets out Latin propaganda poems of the Hundred Years’ War; Rory McTurk, possible links between Langland and skaldic verse. Then come four studies relating to Ireland. Erich Poppe takes on the Charlemagne legend in Irish; Aisling Byrne, Irish texts on the Crusades; Mariamne Briggs, Statius in Irish; Julie Leblanc, legends in Irish about Aeneas. After that, four contributions on Iceland. Mathias Egeler surveys Otherworld islands in Norse, includ­ing the Land of Women; Sif Rikhardsdottir explores emotive literary identity in the Old North; Sarah Bacchianti analyzes Norse translations of Geoffrey of Monmouth; Sabine Heidi Walther examines the personality of Hercules in the Old Norse saga of Troy.

Rolf Bremmer (2007) concludes that the language of the Old Frisian Riustring manuscripts shows traces of copying from texts written in other Old Frisian dialects, notably from the Ems region. The strongest indication for his hypothesis comes from the masculine plural ending-ar, which is the rule in Ems Old Frisian but the exception in R1 and absent from other Riustring manuscripts. In this contribution, Bremmer’s hypothesis is partly confirmed, but augmented with the reconstruction of an indigenous Riustring plural ending-arin masculinea-stem nouns denoting an animate subject, which appear substantially more often in the nominative. Nouns with a higher frequency of occurrence in the accusative take the plural ending-a. This is taken to reflect a former Proto-Frisian situation, with the ending-arin the nom. pl. of masculinea-stem nouns against-ain the acc. pl., similar to Old Norse. The earlier distribution had become lexicalised by the time of Riustring Old Frisian. Some of the attested instances, however, are better explained as remnants of a copying process from Ems Old Frisian.

AbstractIn the present chapter, the design of select margins of late medieval Old Norse manuscripts containing the Icelandic ‘Jónsbók’, ‘Kristinréttr Árna biskups’ and Norwegian ‘Landslǫg’ law codes is addressed. In particular, it discusses the size and fillings of margins in these codices and the relation to their modes of use by original clients and later owners. Although it is well-known that Scandinavian law manuscripts contain a large number of notes written by both original and later users, the particular use of marginal spaces by original scribes and illuminators for glosses and other annotations and illuminations has scarcely been investigated to date. In my contribution, two distinctive features will be addressed: (1.) The different use of margins by Norwegian and Icelandic readers of the manuscripts, and (2.) the use of margins by illuminators surrounding the column(s) and incorporated initials.

Library institutions did not exist in early modern Iceland, meaning that private ownership was central to the preservation of pre-modern manuscripts and literature. However, personal collections are poorly documented in comparison to the activities of manuscript collectors such as Árni Magnússon. This article examines the case study of Helga Magnúsdóttir (1623–1677) and book ownership at her home of Bræðratunga in South Iceland, concluding that Helga Magnúsdóttir engaged in library-building as a social strategy following the death of her husband, Hákon Gíslason (1614–1652). The inventory of the Bræðratunga estate from 1653 includes only four books, all printed. However, nine manuscripts are conclusively identified as having been at Bræðratunga at least briefly during the period from c. 1653 to 1677, and evidence for the presence of another five items is discussed. Examination of surviving volumes suggests that Helga’s goal was to participate in an active culture of sharing manuscript material across distances, rather than to accumulate a large stationary collection of printed books and codices for Bræðratunga. She thereby played an important but easily overlooked role in the survival of Old Norse-Icelandic literature in the early modern period. Of the manuscripts at Bræðratunga, at least two likely came from Helga’s childhood home of Munkaþverá in North Iceland, the former site of a Benedictine monastery. Her cousin Bishop Brynjólfur Sveinsson of Skálholt (1605–1675) also gifted books to Helga and her family, and on his death she inherited half of his collection of Icelandic books and manuscripts, making her the owner of one of the most significant collections of Icelandic manuscripts in the country. The survival of books from Helga’s library was negatively impacted by the Fire of Copenhagen in 1728, the extinction of her family line in the eighteenth century as a long-term consequence of the 1707–1709 smallpox epidemic and collector Árni Magnússon’s antagonistic relationship with two of her children’s heirs. Árni’s relationship with Oddur Sigurðsson (1681–1741), Helga’s grandson and last living descendent, did eventually improve; an appendix includes a list of manuscripts that Oddur loaned to Árni and may have come from the library at Bræðratunga.

In 1787, Grímur Thorkelin, the secretary of the Arnamagnæan Commission, gave the manuscript collector Thomas Astle two paper manuscripts and a parchment bifolium. After Astle’s death, these manuscripts found their way into the Stowe collection and are now kept in the British Library. The paper manuscripts contain transcriptions of texts found in a manuscript in the Arnamagnæan collection and were probably written by Thorkelin himself. The bifolium was, however, written in the fourteenth century. It contains a compilation of short stories about English bishops, mostly archbishops of Canterbury, preceded by a short prologue. For the compilation, the compiler has gathered and adapted material from sources that were already available in Old Norse-Icelandic translations, including Árni Lárentíusson’s Dunstanus saga. However, not all the texts in the compilation are known to exist elsewhere in Icelandic translation. An examination shows that the bifolium was written by the same scribe who wrote parts of Reynistaðarbók in AM 764 4to, and a closer look reveals that the bifolium was once a part of that same manuscript. The last narrative on the bifolium tells the life of St Cuthbert, but its conclusion is now at the top of f. 36r in AM 764 4to. Furthermore, catalogues of the Arnamagnæan collection compiled in the first third of the seventeenth century show that tales about archbishops of Canterbury were included in AM 764 4to, but they are now missing. It thus appears that Thorkelin, who had easy access to Arnamagnæan manuscripts, removed the bifolium before journeying to England, causing its text to fall into oblivion for over two centuries. In the article, the history of the bifolium is discussed, and the script and orthography of its scribe examined and compared to that of scribe E in AM 764 4to. The sources of the compilation’s texts are traced, and the compiler’s methods are analysed. Finally, a diplomatic edition of the texts of the compilation that is now split between the Stowe bifolium and AM 764 4to is presented.

Medieval literature, philosophy, medicine, and many other fields cannot be imagined without considering the huge role played by translations. Scholars have worked on this field already for many years, leading among them Jeanette Beer, who here brings together a number of authors who address specific aspects pertinent to translation work mostly in medieval literature. While she herself offers a concise introduction, she rounds off the volume with a study of the work by the anonymous compiler of Li Fet des Romans from the early thirteenth century which represents the earliest extant work of ancient historiography translated into a European medieval vernacular. The translator offers most detailed comments about his motivation and translation strategies, which helps us understand considerably how medieval writers approached their task. But back to the Introduction. Here Beer traces the history of the earliest translations, beginning with the famous Strasbourg Oaths from 842, turning to Eulalia, the Valenciennes Fragment, and Marie de France, among others. Subsequently Beer outlines the major highlights of this collected volume, highlighting that the contributors address vernaculars such as Latin (not really a vernacular), French, Anglo-Norman, Italian, English, Old Norse, German, Arabic, and Hebrew. Indeed, some of the chapters cover those languages, but we do not hear anything about German, Arabic, or Hebrew, apart from some very fleeting references. She correctly notes that the world prior to the printing press was deeply determined by textual mouvance which provided enormous flexibility in the rendering and display of texts in the manuscripts. The Introduction concludes with a bibliography and a bibliographical note about the author. This model is applied throughout the entire volume.

The silence of the artefacts?The traditional division between archaeology and history is created by the sources of the disciplines. Archaeology is normally defined by the material sources – the artefacts – and history by the focus on written sources. The article gives an introduction to the changing conception of artefacts and to the historians’ and archaeologists’ relation to the material sources.In the 18th century,the collection and description of artefacts was the main goal for the scholars, or antiquarians (fig. 1). In the second half of the century it became common to use the ancient monuments and artefacts in art and in complex combinations as national monuments and landscape gardens (fig. 3-6). The function of the monuments was to emphasise the antiquity of the royal power and the king’s right and relationship to the nation. In the 19th century art became more romantic – as did the interpretations of the artefacts. Now the Danish people and the ”true Danish spirit” made the artefacts valuable (fig. 7).Until the middle of the 19th century it was believed that the prehistoric artefacts were in fact ”historic” – that they belonged to the same period as the Old Norse writings. The artefacts were considered temporary with the writings of Saxo and the Icelandic manuscripts and the interpretation of the artefacts relied heavily on written sources. Also artefacts were often ascribed to supernatural beings such as giants and elves (fig. 2). From 1820 onwards, C.J. Thomsen developed an independent archaeological method according to which the artefacts were sources in their own right, and they were slowly accepted as the most reliable evidence of the distant past (fig 8-11). This development was partly caused by J.J.A. Worsaae’s critique of the traditional historical approach, which led to misinterpretations of mounds and artefacts.This new interpretation of the material sources put archaeology and history in opposition to each other. The cultural history of the archaeologist written on basis of ”speech less” sources conflicted with the political history of the historians dealing with great men and central events. As a result of these conflicting definitions of history the disciplines separated.This conflict is still evident in the disciplines’ attitude to each other. However, the postulated difference in the nature of written and material sources is untenable from the traditional viewpoint of a source as remnant or report (fig. 12).This definition of sources was created by Kristian Erslev in the late 19th century and can still be used when dealing with the apparent differences between archaeology and history. The article concludes that when archaeologists try to emphasise the truth of their sources, they are making a mistake. The fact that the artefacts are speechless, e.g. have no formulated report – does not make them true. The central question is the way the scientists interpret the sources, since no source ever speaks for itself.Anne Katrine GjerløffThe Department of History Copenhagen University

Abstract This study applies statistical approaches to the analysis of the genre relationships of Old Norse-Icelandic literature in order to expand our understanding of the relationships between works, their transmission, and their possible modes of reception, as manifested in the extant manuscripts. This article contributes to the ongoing discussion of the genre boundaries of Old Norse-Icelandic literature and presents an alternative method of engaging with this material in the form of computer-assisted analysis, i.e. data visualization and network analysis. Using data collected from major online databases of Old Norse-Icelandic manuscripts, we present the most complete to date network of co-occurrences in manuscripts of works belonging to a number of literary genres. The present study empirically demonstrates the manifoldness of the connections between the Old Norse-Icelandic works which transcend traditional scholarly genre boundaries. The study identifies two main communities within the network: a community of romances, or works of narrative fiction, which includes mainly legendary sagas (fornaldarsögur) and chivalric sagas (riddarasögur), and a community of historicizing narratives, or pseudo-history, which includes mainly sagas of Icelanders (Íslendingasögur) and kings’ sagas (konungasögur).

Abstract The Old Norse medical corpus, both manuscript and epigraphic, illuminates understandings of the body and of the relationship between sickness, somatic emotion and the perceived integrity of the individual self in Viking and medieval Scandinavia. This essay argues that Old Norse medical texts and charms understand illness not only as an imbalance of humours but also as an invasive, anthropomorphised agent that seeks to breach the boundaries of the human body. Falling victim to illness is understood as a zero-sum power exchange, visualised through images of martial defeat and sexualised submission. Strong emotion can be rendered as physical illness in Old Norse literature because both forces threaten the integrity of the contained and individualised self. As a thematic case study, this essay examines runic healing charms, late medieval medical manuscripts and saga episodes dealing with boils and abscesses, which are attributed both to the surging of vital spirits and to the action of supernatural disease agents, to examine the way these texts understand the embodied self.

NB: Artiklen er på dansk, resuméet på engelsk. Erik Petersen: Wulfstan’s Codex and Schumacher’s List. On the Oldest Record of Manuscripts in the Royal Library. It has hitherto been assumed that the earliest list of manuscripts in the Royal Library is the section of manuscripts in the catalogue preserved in the library’s archive as E 8: Catalogus librorum typis exaratorum, pariter ac Manuscriptorum, quibus, curante Petro Schu­machero, aucta est Regia Bibliotheca. A total of 82 manuscripts are recorded at the end (f. 17v-20r) of the Catalogus E 8, which was made by Willum Worm who signed and dated it on the 4th of January 1671at his accession as librarian to the Danish king, Christian V. Worm succeeded Peter Schumacher, perhaps better known as Griffenfeld, who act­ed as librarian to king Frederik III from 1663 to 1670 and to Christian V until Worm took over. The Catalogus E 8 has been known for long as ‘Schumacher’s catalogue’. Thus Ellen Jørgensen, the author of the Catalogus codicum Latinorum medii ævi Bib­liothecæ Regiæ Hafniensis (1926), referred to it as cat. Schumacheri, and stated, on its authority, that a given manuscript found in the Catalogus E 8 had been acquired by the library between 1663 and 1670. Others followed her example. The manuscript section of Catalogus E 8 was published by Harald Ilsøe in 1999 in his book on the history of the Royal Library’s holdings until ca. 1780 (Det kongelige Bibliotek i støbeskeen. Studier og samlinger til bestandens historie indtil ca. 1780, 1999, p. 574-581). However, the Catalogus E 8 is not the catalogue of Schumacher. It is the catalogue of Willum Worm. And the catalogue of Worm does not cover the entire period 1663 to the end of 1670, but only the latter part of it, i.e. the period from the beginning of 1666 to the end of 1670. In fact, Peter Schumacher made his own list, which has never received the atten­tion it deserves – if at all noticed, its contents have been misinterpreted. It is pre­served in the RL Archive as E 8 a. Schumacher’s list is neither dated nor signed. It contains records for more than a hundred printed books. It also contains a list of 45 manuscripts, several of which have dedications to king Frederik III. An analysis of the years of publication of the printed books and of the dedications in the manuscripts makes it possible to date Schumacher’s list in E 8 a to the end of 1665. The 45 manu­scripts thus represent the nucleus of the manuscript collection of the king’s growing library. Apparently it is exactly the aim and ambition of creating such a collection that Schumacher’s list reflects. It is important also because Worm’s list of 1671does not repeat entries of manuscripts on Schumacher’s list; in other words, the two lists of manuscripts supplement each other. Most of the manuscripts recorded on the list were contemporary, and many of them directly related to the king either by contents or by dedications by authors or donators. Whereas the printed books reflect an able awareness of what was going on in the intellectual centres of Europe, the manuscripts reveal a more limited horizon. Not a single manuscript on Schumacher’s list seems to have been acquired by pur­chase, neither on the European market nor in Denmark. There are, however, manuscripts of great importance on Schumacher’s list, amongst them the following medieval manuscripts (with my identifications of their present call numbers in the Old Royal Collection, Gammel Kongelig Samling or GKS): 4 Den Islandske Lovbog udgiffvet aff Kong Magnus Haagensøn. fol. = GKS 1154 2° 26 Descriptio Eccles. Romanæ cum omnibus suis ceremoniis, ritibus etc. Sic inci­pit: Apollogus de ordine Romano. MS. Pergam. = GKS 1595 4° 29 Liber Daticus Ecclesiæ et Capituli Lundensis. fol. in membran. = GKS 845 2° 36 Thaumbachius de Consolatione Theologiæ chartâ pergamenâ. = GKS 1370 4° 39 Biblia Lat. MSS. in 8°. anno 1237. = GKS 3375 8° Items 4 and 29 were produced in medieval Denmark. Items 36 and 39 were both very common in the late Middle Ages; none of them are ‘royal’ in any sense of the word, and may well have been found among the remnants of the old church somewhere in Denmark. The same is true of the most remarkable item on the list, the Descriptio Ecclesesiæ Romanæ cum omnibus suis ceremoniis, ritibus etc. with the incipit: Apollogus de ordine Romano, the famous codex of Wulfstan, produced just after the turn of the first millennium under the supervision of Wulfstan, bishop of Worcester and arch­bishop of York, and containing his autograph notes in Anglo-Saxon and Latin. Next to nothing has been known about its history in Denmark until now. It has, in fact, only been possible to state that it was in The Royal Library in 1786, when the Old Royal Collection was established. Due to Schumacher’s list we now know that it was in the king’s library already in 1665, and that it is likely to have been in Denmark long before then. As to the protestant king’s interest in a medieval book of the old church such as Wulfstan’s, a glimpse on the medieval manuscripts recorded in Worms’ Catalogus E 8 may be enlightening. The focus of collecting did not change or changed very little. Nos. 37, 47, 73, 78, 79, 80 are described as lawbooks, written in Danish or Old Norse. A few may be medieval, but they are not described in sufficient detail to be identified. The provenance of a single manuscript in Greek is unknown. The follow­ing are all in Latin: 2 Fundation paae biskop Byrges Capel i Lund 1518. = GKS 846 2° 11Evangelistæ in Membranâ. Probably = GKS 1347 4° (Ilsøe: GKS 12 2°, lost) 40 Justinus in Membranâ. = GKS 451 2° or GKS 452 2° (Ilsøe’s suggestions) 57 Bibliorum tomus II incipit a Iobo. = GKS 1310 4° 77 Notkirkes alterbog i gammel dage. = GKS 3453 8° Item 2 was produced in Lund, that is in medieval Denmark. Item 57 was produced in Italy, but belonged to the chapter of the cathedral of Lund in the later Middle Ages. If my identification is correct, item 11was produced in England, but it had migrated to Bergen in Norway in the Middle Ages. I am in doubt about the identity of item 40, but Iustinus was widely copied and read in the Middle Ages, even in Denmark. Item 77 is of particular interest in our context. It is a Latin manuale ecclesiasticum, and was found in the local church of Notmark on the island of Als in 1669 by king Frederik III himself. He visited the provincial church and required to take ‘the old monastic book in Latin’ as well as a copy in German of king Valdemar’s law book along to Copenhagen. His request was granted and the visit of the king recorded by the vicar in a Danish printed bible that remained in the church. The medieval books in the collection were not bought abroad because of their splen­dour or prestige, but inherited, received as gifts or gathered from places inside the king’s own realms. Thus the catalogues E 8 a and E 8 not only offer evidence of the presence of a given manuscript in the kings Library ante the end of 1665 or ante 1671. They also indicate that the manuscripts may well have had a much longer history in Denmark than hitherto known. Thus the list of Schumacher is not just a detail in the history of a library. It is also the mirror through which Wulfstan and his codex may become visible in the distant landscape of medieval Denmark.

Does science have a moral component? Today, as well as in the past, the perspectives of scientists diverge. Some scientists join political groups and work for them. They only care about financial benefits and waiving moral and ethical rules. Others take an alienated stance, arguing that science only has scientific objectives that must be addressed. They lack concern for ethical aspects and stand by the motto “science for the sake of science.” Others say it is important to have ethical rules in science and that we cannot preserve humankind and its movement towards the future without ethical and moral principles. Considering that the world is currently in the second decade of the 21st century, it is evident that it has been divided into two distinct axes: the first being democracy, with its significance to every human life, and the second being dictatorship and tyranny, where human life is deemed worthless in pursuit of a particular objective. Ukraine has become the first outpost of this division and an example for humankind, where moral and ethical rules serve as the foundation of its statehood, which it has been defending in the cruel war with the Moscow nuclear empire since 2014. Ukraine, through its centuries-old sacrifices and historical experience, has enlightened humanity with the authentic foundations of morality: the heroism of its defenders, the fervent patriotism of its people, spiritual principles, empathy, saving people and animals, aiding the needy, the volunteer movement, the humane treatment of prisoners of war, and adherence to international legal principles. Our main goal is to protect our personal freedom, which is vital for every scientist to be self-fulfilled. What is the distinction in morality/ethics between homo sovieticus and a doctor? The Hippocratic Oath has been a moral compass for all doctors for several millennia. Its essence has not changed. The Soviet government abolished the Hippocratic Oath in 1917 because it prevented their political objective of enslaving the population [1]. The Bolsheviks imposed a new healthcare system through a decree: they legalized abortions in 1920 and active euthanasia (by medical professionals) in 1922 [1,2]. The Presidium of the Verkhovna Rada reinstated the Hippocratic Oath in 1971. Called “The Oath of the Soviet Doctor,” it was meant to raise the doctor’s prestige and emphasize their duty before the Soviet state [3]. The decline of medical ethics in the Russian Federation also saw the abandonment of ancient traditions focused on the patient in the principles of medical practitioners’ activities and the continued functioning as a tool of the ruling government [4]. The oath of Russian physicians, with its patronizing and sexist language, completely disregards the rights of the patient and the physician’s responsibility to take preventive measures and fulfill their duties before society. The expert in medical ethics, Pellegrino, observed, “It’s hard to imagine a more devastating mutilation of the body of medical ethics.” The re-emergence of pre-existing medical behavior patterns, which were rooted in the Ukrainian environment and influenced by Greek-Catholic customs prior to the Soviet era, was observed with the declaration of Ukraine’s independence in 1991. Professor Bohdan Nadraha was a strong supporter of the creation of updated medical ethics [5]. As one of the initiators of the revival of the Ukrainian Medical Society in Lviv and as the head of the Court of Medical Honor from 1992 to 1996, he firmly advocated for the reinstatement of bioethical principles among physicians and their practice in accordance with the principles of Hippocrates. Professor Ihor Herych created a document called “The Hippocratic Oath of the Doctor”, and Lviv Regional Medical Administration officially accepted it in 2007 [6]. Article 81 describes the ethical behavior of a doctor, including the doctor’s attitude towards the patient, the quality of medical care, confidentiality, the doctor’s role in end-of-life care, transplantation issues, conducting clinical trials, patient’s informed consent, and responsibility of doctors before the society. During a meeting with members of the Medical Commission of the Shevchenko Scientific Society and the Ukrainian Medical Society in Lviv, His Beatitude Liubomyr Husar addressed the physicians regarding the observance of the Hippocratic Oath, “In my opinion, it is imperative to comprehend that medicine is not merely a profession, but a calling, regardless of the form of oath.” He further stated that “understanding the significance of one’s profession and performing it with the utmost diligence is essential” [7]. The doctor has a calling that obliges them to do everything possible for the patient’s benefit. His important advice on de-communization was, “Corruption is part of the Soviet legacy. In my perspective, it is imperative that the authorities, scientists, historians, and every member of society analyze the legacy of the Soviet era and the remaining negative elements and swiftly eradicate these undesirable elements” [8]. Ukrainian scientists have a lot to be proud of because they started the foundations back in the 19th century when they founded the Shevchenko Scientific Society in Lviv in 1873 with support from philanthropists from Naddniprianshchyna. The Ukrainian intelligentsia and academics united and forged a solid foundation for the ethical values they pursued, embracing the ideals of liberty and tolerance being stuck among the two empires – the Austro-Hungarian Empire and the oppressive autocratic Russian Empire. This Society experienced significant development under the leadership of academician Mykhailo Hrushevskyi. The medical commission was established and supervised by Yevhen Ozarkevych, a prominent public figure, scientist, and physician, in 1898. As a global Ukrainian multidisciplinary academy of sciences, the medical commission has given impetus to the development of various directions of Ukrainian science, culture, and language and became the intellectual foundation of the Ukrainian state in 1918. The Shevchenko Scientific Society operated in Poland until 1939 and was destroyed by the Soviet authorities. In 1989, the Ukrainian diaspora recommenced its operations in Ukraine. The active intellectual diaspora, with its centers in the United States, Canada, Europe, and Australia, has been operational for 50 years (working outside Ukraine). So, we have a story about moral scientists who lived and worked for their country and the world [9]. Doctors and scientists who were forced to emigrate continued the traditions of the Lviv Ukrainian Medical Society and the Shevchenko Scientific Society during the 46 years of communist rule in western Ukraine. They started the Ukrainian Medical Society of North America in 1950 and published their works in the world’s only medical journal, “Medical Herald” (1954). Roman Osinchuk, who graduated from Lviv University and emigrated to New York in 1947, was its Editor-in-Chief. The basis of their activities were moral and ethical principles. Pavlo Dzhul, who edited the “Medical Herald” from 1967 to 2003, said it was better to follow the rules of medical ethics and follow the Hippocratic Oath instead of making a new code of ethics. “Hippocrates, in his oath, called for the honest fulfillment of duties according to one’s abilities and knowledge... a physician should alleviate the suffering of the sick and preserve human life... should lead a pure and blameless life, be committed to their profession to the fullest, and stay far from all that is malicious, unjust, and harmful. The aforementioned adage “primum non nocere” ought to remain relevant throughout time. A doctor who adheres to these principles will be able to fulfill their duties with a clear conscience, even during times of great revolutionary breakthroughs in medicine. Therefore, there is no need to draft a new code of medical ethics, but rather to reaffirm the ideals of our forefathers” [10]. In modern times, Ukraine is again fighting for the eternal principles of morality against the essence of the Russian Federation distorted by Soviet narratives and other dictatorial regimes. The democratic world underestimated the threats of dictatorial and terrorist regimes. Aggressors use economic and informational methods to manipulate people with a false ideology. They shape their supporters into “biomass” and instill in them a hidden “dark” morality also involving their religions. This is the second year that Ukraine is experiencing war particularly painfully, and this was also demonstrated during the attack on Israel. How methodically and uniformly the dictator-terrorist regimes operate! What a treachery, deceit, and cruelty! Someone teaches well, and executors learn quickly! The world must arrive at lucid and expeditious conclusions, as this poses a serious threat to the democratic principles of humanity. Joe Biden spoke about it in his special address from the White House on October 19, 2023: “We’re facing an inflection point in history... those moments where the decisions we make today are going to determine the future... History has taught us that when terrorists don’t pay a price for their terror, when dictators don’t pay a price for their aggression, they cause more chaos and death and more destruction... making sure Israel and Ukraine succeed is vital for America’s national security... global democracy” [11]. Everyone should reflect on these words, especially the intellectual elite. Scientists worldwide need to know which direction they are moving in by using their knowledge, abilities, and work. The everyday work and moral decisions made by scientists represent the symbolic placement of weights on various platforms of the historical scales: either for democracy or for dictatorship. They are two components of the real world today. What prevails now will be our future! This is a challenging question for scientists living in dictatorial states. They either have to leave them or refrain from supporting the development of these societies by speaking at international congresses or publishing articles about their developments in scientific journals. It is imperative that they wait for better times, refrain from supporting and sustaining the dictatorship, and refrain from contributing to its perpetuation. Living in a country that routinely commits mass genocide against other nations, commits humanitarian and ecological crimes, kills children and prisoners of war, and demolishes churches, museums, hospitals, educational institutions, and cemeteries was not a lucky break for them. Hence, scientists in democratic societies must clearly define their objectives: are they engaged in genuine scientific research with a moral component and generating a perspective for humanity, or are they focusing on the financial aspect and inviting scientists from dictatorial regimes to international conferences and publishing their articles in reputable journals in exchange for financial support? Scientists from the Russian Federation are not victims, and the world must refrain from using the term “good” Russians. They are the representatives of a terrorist state, and they must be isolated during the war to enable their minds and conscience to comprehend the significance of human life [9]. The ethical oversight of scientific endeavors, viewed as a vital necessity, is a crucial prerequisite for the advancement of research and the existence of humankind in its entirety. Every scientist should be aware of their responsibility for the fate of humanity. True science must have a moral face! The war is a test to see how well the Ukrainian people believe in morals and science. Ukrainian scientists have taken a stand to defend their state, democracy, and freedom despite the circumstances of war by establishing an intellectual front [10]. Some scientists volunteered and sacrificed their lives for the democratic future of Ukraine and humankind. More than 80 scientists died in 2022-2023. Some scientists help the Armed Forces of Ukraine with their developments [11], and others save wounded Heroes [12]. We thank the scientists of Europe, America, Canada, and Australia who have supported and continue to support Ukraine [13,14], who do not create a platform for the propaganda of Russian science, and who do not invite Russian scientists to their professional congresses and conferences. Ferenc Krausz, the Hungarian Nobel Prize laureate in physics, donated his prize money to help Ukraine, which, contrary to the official policy of the Hungarian government in the international arena, has become an example of morality. Yet many scholars advocate the principle of neutrality and the grey zone. Many scientific conferences and professional gatherings don’t mention the war in Europe, they allow scientists from the Russian Federation to speak and moderate, and they don’t commemorate peaceful researchers who perished because of the war. This is what happened at an international conference organized by the European Society for Primary Immunodeficiency in Gothenburg on April 16-18, 2022. The professional community did not honor the memory of Oksana Leontiieva, a scientist and hematologist from Kyiv who was supposed to talk at this conference about her developments in transplanting primary immunodeficiency on October 17. On October 10, 2022, seven days before the scheduled speech, she was killed by a Russian bomb while en route to work. At that time, Russian scientists were actively delivering their speeches at the conference. Haven’t scientists around the world had enough of the horrible things happening in Europe, like Russian bombings of hospitals, schools, libraries, theaters, homes, cafés, and funerals? Aren’t they equated to the high crimes of war, genocide, and terrorism? Several independent organizations cited in the Raoul Wallenberg Center for Human Rights report for May 2022 established this. The report also concludes that “states have a legal obligation to prevent genocide beyond their borders when they become aware of a serious risk of genocide”. The threshold established by this report has been reached, and states are no longer allowed to deny it. For the past two years, there have been discussions about whether Western publications should refuse to publish scientific papers from Russian institutions. Only the Journal of Molecular Structure has issued a clear statement based on the humanitarian crisis arising from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, ceasing the acceptance of manuscripts from scientists working in institutions of the Russian Federation [15]. Several journals declined to endorse a boycott for the sake of “universal science” (The British Medical Journal) [16] or to prevent “dividing the global research community and inhibiting the exchange of scientific knowledge” (Nature) [17]. Science has also decided not to boycott Russian submissions [18]. The “Journal of Hematopathology” has emerged as a prominent publication among Springer Nature’s journals, expressing its condemnation of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine while retaining a proactive approach towards evaluating manuscripts from Russian authors [19]. The war in Ukraine is condemned in several publications [20-21]. This is an example of outrage without real action. Russians are not even denied electronic access to scientific publications. Did these publications accept manuscripts from the Nazi regime during World War II or the Soviet regime during the Cold War era? When asked if American universities should have boycotted German/Nazi universities during World War II, they answered, “...when the Nazis criminalized higher education, they ceased to be universities” [22]. The united comprehensive approach of the civilized world, scientists in the first place, was able to defeat fascism and collapse the Soviet Union. Scientists all over the world are now deeply concerned about the Russian Federation’s actions in Ukraine. You learn nothing from history! Scientists from the Russian Federation supported the war with Ukraine during its early days, and many of them continue supporting it. The Russian Federation has criminalized its own research institutes and universities through its stringent regulations that suppress free speech and, consequently, academic freedom. Research institutions operate for the war machine in three shifts. Russian scientists are essential supporters of government policy. For example, about one million Russian scientists left the country in protest against the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Those who stayed don’t have enough important lab supplies from the West because of sanctions or reduced national funding for science [23]. But now is not the time for them to create the conditions for the development of science. Supporting them is a threat of the third world war! The manuscripts of Russian scientists with Homo sovieticus origins deserve to be boycotted by Western scientific publications until the war ends, with the complete withdrawal of Russian troops from Ukrainian territory, the reparations for the killed population, registered justice and convicted war crimes, restoration of the destroyed infrastructure; mitigating the environmental catastrophe in the Ukrainian territory due to widespread mining, dam explosion, etc. During wartime, international sanctions in the realm of science should be imposed, much like those for economic, sporting, and cultural spheres. For humankind to have perspective, isolation of the aggressor must function in the scientific field. Scientists should make a conscious decision regarding the purpose for which they live, work, think, and create. Think before the nuclear monster destroys the planet!!!