The final version of the Third Universal was completed after several days of intense work.
By then, countless rumors were already circulating throughout Kyiv.
Some claimed that the Central Rada was about to declare full independence.
Others insisted that it would merely announce a new form of autonomy.
Still others believed that all these political debates would soon become irrelevant because of the events unfolding in Petrograd.
Yet on the morning of the session, noticeably larger crowds than usual gathered outside the Rada building.
Students arrived.
Teachers.
Soldiers.
Civil servants.
Representatives of Ukrainian organizations.
Many understood that something important was about to happen.
Inside the building, the atmosphere was no less tense.
Deputies took their seats.
Secretaries arranged documents.
Journalists prepared their notebooks.
A sense of anticipation filled the air.
Even those who had fiercely argued over individual clauses only a day earlier understood that they were about to witness a historic moment.
When the session finally began, conversations gradually faded.
Mykhailo Hrushevskyi rose from his seat.
For several seconds he silently surveyed the hall.
Then he began to speak.
His voice was calm but firm.
—"Gentlemen, the past months have transformed not only Ukraine but the entire world around us. Political systems that recently seemed unshakable have disappeared one after another. Nations are increasingly forced to determine their own future."
He paused briefly.
—"Today, that responsibility belongs to us."
Silence filled the chamber.
The reading of the Universal began.
As the text was presented, many deputies followed every word with close attention.
Some made notes.
Others simply listened.
When the proclamation of the Ukrainian People's Republic was read aloud, a visible wave of emotion passed through the hall.
For many present, this was a moment they had awaited for decades.
The dream of several generations of the Ukrainian national movement was finally taking tangible political form.
Yet the document contained far more than a new name for the state.
It proclaimed broad civil rights.
It confirmed democratic freedoms.
It announced preparations for land reform.
It established the eight-hour working day.
It abolished the remnants of estate privileges.
As the reading continued, the deputies increasingly understood that they were witnessing more than a political declaration.
They were laying the foundations of an entirely new political order.
When the final words were spoken, the hall remained silent for several moments.
Then applause broke out.
At first from a few individuals.
Then from dozens.
Soon nearly the entire chamber had joined.
Several deputies rose to their feet.
Others openly displayed their emotions.
Even many political opponents chose not to argue.
The significance of the moment outweighed their disagreements.
After the formal session concluded, discussions immediately resumed in smaller groups throughout the hall.
Young socialists enthusiastically debated future reforms.
Representatives of cultural organizations discussed the expansion of Ukrainian schools and universities.
Journalists rushed to telegraph offices to send reports across the country.
Near one of the windows, Petliura, Doroshenko, and several deputies continued their conversation.
One of the younger representatives spoke first.
—"I cannot shake the feeling that today marks the beginning of an entirely new era."
Doroshenko smiled faintly.
—"I hope you are right."
The deputy looked surprised.
—"That does not sound particularly enthusiastic."
—"Enthusiasm is useful during celebrations," Doroshenko replied. — "States are built somewhat differently."
Petliura allowed himself a brief smile.
—"Dmytro Ivanovych remains remarkably consistent."
—"Someone must remain boring among all these revolutionaries."
Several men laughed quietly.
Then Doroshenko's expression grew serious again.
—"Do not misunderstand me. Today is genuinely important. Perhaps one of the most important days in our history. But tomorrow morning we must begin the ordinary work of governing."
—"You make that sound unpleasant."
—"Quite the opposite. It is necessary. The difficult part begins precisely where the celebrations end."
One of the younger deputies asked curiously:
—"What do you mean by that?"
Doroshenko glanced around the chamber.
At the people.
At the piles of documents.
At the maps spread across the tables.
Then he answered.
—"Today we proclaimed a republic. Tomorrow we must create its institutions, its administration, its laws, its finances, and its system of government. History knows many nations that managed to proclaim a state. Far fewer managed to preserve one."
No one argued.
The truth of the statement was too obvious.
Meanwhile, the session gradually drew to a close.
Deputies began leaving the hall.
Yet the work of the Central Rada was only beginning.
Because immediately after proclaiming the republic, another question arose.
What exactly would this new Ukrainian state look like?
If the proclamation of the Ukrainian People's Republic became a moment of triumph, the days that followed quickly reminded the leadership of the Central Rada that a state could not be built through declarations alone.
Dozens of practical questions demanded immediate answers.
Every morning brought new inquiries from across Ukraine.
Provincial officials requested clarification regarding their authority.
City administrations sought instructions from Kyiv.
Banks asked about financial policy.
Local governments wanted to know which institutions remained in force and which were being replaced.
The republic had been proclaimed.
Now it had to be organized.
Another major session of the Central Rada convened two days later.
This time the atmosphere differed noticeably from the celebration that had accompanied the Third Universal.
The excitement remained.
But now it was mixed with responsibility.
Large maps of Ukraine covered several tables.
Administrative reports were stacked beside them.
Lists of government departments, provincial administrations, and financial institutions lay scattered throughout the hall.
Hrushevskyi opened the session.
—"Gentlemen, we have proclaimed the republic. Now we must determine how it is to function."
A deputy from Poltava Province rose first.
—"The local administrations are already sending requests for clarification. They want to know which powers remain with the provinces and which belong to Kyiv."
Several others nodded.
The question affected every region.
Vynnychenko spoke almost immediately.
—"The new republic must rely upon broad local self-government. The closer authority remains to the people, the stronger the republic will become."
Many socialist deputies approved.
The principle had long been central to their political vision.
From another section of the hall, Doroshenko requested permission to speak.
—"No one disputes the importance of local self-government."
He paused briefly.
—"The question is where local authority ends and state authority begins."
The room grew quieter.
Doroshenko continued.
—"We are creating a republic during a revolution. Today a province follows Kyiv. Tomorrow a local committee may decide it has discovered a better path. The day after tomorrow another council may claim authority over the same territory. If we fail to define the powers of the central government, we risk creating not a state, but a collection of regions moving in different directions."
Several deputies exchanged thoughtful glances.
The concern was difficult to dismiss.
Vynnychenko answered calmly.
—"Ukraine must not become a copy of the Russian Empire."
—"Agreed," Doroshenko replied. — "But there is a considerable distance between autocracy and the absence of authority."
Laughter briefly spread through the chamber.
Even Vynnychenko smiled.
The discussion continued for nearly an hour.
Eventually a compromise emerged.
For the time being, the existing provincial structure would remain in place until the future Ukrainian Constituent Assembly could consider broader reforms.
No one wished to launch a complete administrative reorganization in the middle of a revolutionary crisis.
After a short recess, the discussion turned toward state symbols.
Unexpectedly, the subject generated some of the most passionate debate of the entire session.
For years, blue-and-yellow banners had become closely associated with the Ukrainian movement.
Yet there was a difference between the symbols of a movement and the symbols of a state.
One deputy raised a folded flag.
—"The people have already made this choice."
Several voices immediately supported him.
Another deputy responded:
—"Have the people made that choice? Or have political organizations made it on their behalf?"
The chamber erupted into discussion.
For several minutes Hrushevskyi was forced to restore order.
Eventually the majority agreed to retain the blue-and-yellow colors as the national flag of the republic.
The next issue proved even more complicated.
The coat of arms.
Suggestions came from every corner of the hall.
Some proposed Cossack symbols.
Others argued for regional historical emblems.
Several favored the image of Saint Michael.
Others advocated symbols connected to the Zaporizhian Host.
The debate might have continued indefinitely had Hrushevskyi not risen once more.
—"We are not creating a new tribe, nor a new province."
The hall gradually quieted.
—"We are creating a state that must draw strength from the entirety of Ukrainian history."
He paused.
—"For that reason, I believe the sign of Prince Volodymyr is the most natural symbol available to us."
Immediately, voices of support could be heard throughout the chamber.
The Tryzub had already become familiar to many Ukrainian organizations.
More importantly, it connected the republic not only to the Cossack tradition but also to the heritage of Kyivan Rus.
After further discussion, support for the proposal steadily grew.
One deputy remarked thoughtfully:
—"Perhaps a hundred years from now people will look at this symbol and assume it has always been there."
Hrushevskyi smiled.
—"That is how traditions begin."
The discussion then moved to a subject far less romantic.
Money.
The festive atmosphere vanished almost immediately.
A representative from the financial commission laid several reports on the table.
—"Gentlemen, allow me to remind everyone that no state can function without a financial system."
Vynnychenko nodded.
—"We are aware of that."
—"Then permit me to ask a simple question."
The financial expert looked around the room.
—"What currency currently circulates throughout Ukraine?"
Silence followed.
Everyone knew the answer.
Imperial rubles.
Notes issued by the Provisional Government.
Various local currencies and emergency issues.
The financial system of the former empire was becoming increasingly chaotic.
The speaker continued.
—"If we intend to maintain economic stability, we must begin preparing our own monetary system."
Petliura, who had spoken little during this part of the session, finally joined the discussion.
—"Armies may lose wars and survive. Governments may endure political crises. But no state exists for long without control over its finances."
Several deputies smiled.
—"That is a surprisingly economic observation from a military man."
Petliura shrugged.
—"The army spends half its life waiting for money that never arrives. One learns certain lessons."
The laughter that followed briefly lightened the atmosphere.
Yet the issue remained serious.
By the end of the discussion, the Rada agreed to begin preparations for a separate Ukrainian financial system and future national currency.
The meeting finally concluded late in the evening.
Most deputies looked exhausted.
Some gathered their papers.
Others continued debating in the corridors.
When Hrushevskyi left the chamber, he paused beside a window.
Beyond the glass, the lights of Kyiv stretched into the darkness.
The city continued its ordinary life.
Most of its inhabitants did not yet fully understand how dramatically the country had changed over the past weeks.
The Empire was gone.
The Provisional Government was gone.
Now there was the Ukrainian People's Republic.
A young state filled with hopes, ambitions, and contradictions.
And while its leaders debated flags, symbols, finances, and administration, forces were already gathering far to the east that would soon put the new republic to its first great test.