WHILE growing up in Lahore a long, long time ago, eating out with the family usually entailed a choice between Shezan Oriental and Shezan Continental. The menu item I invariably opted for at the latter was chicken à la kiev.

Long before I had any inkling of the geopolitical significance of the nomenclature, experience taught me that the dish required a slightly delicate approach. If one plunged in with a knife and fork by slicing it in the middle, the likely consequence was a greasy mess as the melted butter gushed out from its confines with sufficient force to splatter one of the diners.

A gentle poke with a fork released the pressure, and even then it was wiser to slice it at the tail end.

The political equivalent of such dinner-table etiquette could have come in handy when Ukraine’s President Viktor Yanukovych announced last month that a free-trade treaty with the EU was off the menu for the moment. The inevitable consequence was a bit of a mess in Kiev, as Ukrainians began pouring on to the streets not only to denounce Yanukovych’s decision but to demand his removal from power for kowtowing to Moscow.

Vladimir Putin would undoubtedly like Ukraine to be part of the Eurasian Union he intends to launch in 2015, with Belarus and Kazakhstan already on board and several other post-Soviet states expected to opt in. The idea is anathema to a substantial proportion of Ukrainians, who bristle at the prospect of a return to Russian domination and would be thrilled to cast off existing links in return for progressive integration with the Western sphere.

There are plenty of others, though, who at the very least are comfortable with being close to Russia (in some cases Soviet nostalgia even stretches to the urge for a political reunion), which happens to be the primary market for Ukrainian exports.

After demonstrators in Kiev earlier this month toppled a granite representation of Vladimir Lenin, the BBC’s Steve Rosenberg travelled to Luhansk in the eastern part of the country where he encountered not just four Lenin statues but also Soviet Street and Young Communist Lane — as well as overwhelming opposition to the demands of the capital-city protesters.

The divide is not just geographic but also to varying degrees historic, linguistic and sectarian. The parts of Ukraine where proximity to Russia attracts the greatest disdain lie in the west of the country, which was part of Poland until the Second World War, and previously fell under a range of jurisdictions, including the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

The east belonged to the tsarist empire for centuries, which helps to explain why Russian, rather than Ukrainian, happens to be the lingua franca in those parts. And the Orthodox church holds sway there, whereas the west is Catholic to a considerable extent.

There is scattered support for the idea of a split, but it is not widely seen as a desirable solution. The question that is not raised frequently enough is: why can’t Ukraine be economically close to both the EU and Russia? Is Putin the chief obstacle?

Pressure from Moscow was clearly involved in Yanukovych’s decision to maintain a distance from Brussels, although his claim that the move was made in Ukraine’s best interest is not necessarily nonsensical, given that the dire economic straits in which the country finds itself could well be exacerbated by the EU’s prescriptions.

His talks with Putin last week were followed by the announcement that Russia would buy Ukrainian government bonds worth $15 billion — effectively a bailout — and discount gas sales to its neighbour by almost a third. It is unclear what Yanukovych may have promised in return.

Back in the days of the so-called Orange Revolution nearly a decade ago, when Yanukovych was first cast in the villain’s role (not entirely without justification), he was seen as more or less a Russian pawn.

After winning the ostensibly fair 2010 election, however, he and some of his most powerful supporters have developed vested interests incompatible with economic control by Moscow. Compromising Ukraine’s independence is therefore not a serious option for any of Ukraine’s mainstream political forces. The EU, meanwhile, perhaps ought to be concerned that those clamouring in Kiev for a pact with Brussels include far-right ultra-nationalists.

Putin has lately been on something of an uncharacteristic charm offensive ahead of the Sochi Winter Olympics, with a wide-ranging amnesty and a pardon for Mikhail Khodorovsky. He is nonetheless likely to remain uncompromising when it comes to defending what he perceives as Russia’s interests vis-à-vis its neighbours. Ukraine has, for the moment, gingerly picked its side, though the internal conflict over its future is far from over.

Pertinent or not, I recall that Shezan’s chicken à la kiev wasn’t considered complete without a side serving of Russian salad.

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