In December 2019, in the Grand Ballroom of the Hilton Kyiv Hotel, family names and company names were scrolled on the screen alongside the amounts of donations they had made. A man dressed in priestly clothes left the stage and, holding a microphone, walked around the round tables, where several hundred businessmen, politicians, and opinion leaders, with their spouses and children, listened carefully. The speaker switched between Ukrainian and English, asking a simple question: “What are your reasons for supporting this university?”

The 12th annual meeting of the Friends of the Ukrainian Catholic University (UCU) was well underway. Some of Ukraine’s wealthiest individuals had scheduled a slot in advance to hear the man with the microphone. “We want to make an impact in this country,” continued UCU President Borys Gudziak, 59, who flew to Ukraine from the U.S., where he serves as Metropolitan of the Ukrainian Catholic Archeparchy of Philadelphia. “You aren’t going to regret giving money to this university, ever,” he said, repeating the sentiment in various ways at every Kyiv meeting. “Reach deep into your pocket – both left and right. Give so much that it hurts!” And people did.

The University

UCU is one of the country’s top universities, and this is supported with measurable evidence. Despite receiving no funding from the government, UCU had the highest per-student spending in Ukraine — UAH 88,000 in the 2019/2020 academic year. Launched in 2015, the UCU Faculty of Applied Sciences enrolled 77 top Ukrainian high school graduates in its computer program. In 2019, the standardized external testing cutoff for this major was 198.5, while half of the students scored over 200, according to UCU Vice-Rector Natalia Klymovska. Since the program opened, only 60 students had graduated, says its dean, Yaroslav Prytula. However, he emphasizes quality over quantity, noting that graduates fill positions in almost all newly established R&D departments of Lviv software development companies.

UCU has developed a university infrastructure unmatched by any traditional Ukrainian university. “Our collegium is no different from what we’ve seen in the residence halls of Stanford or other American universities,” says Kateryna Zagoriy, who, with her husband Glib Zagoriy, owner of Darnytsia Pharmaceutical Company, regularly donates hundreds of thousands of dollars to UCU. Adrian Slywotzky, 68, a UCU Senator and renowned business consultant, recalls the impression UCU makes on first-time American visitors: “What is this place? It looks more like a Silicon Valley start-up than a university.”

The Sheptytsky Center, which houses the university library, is a modern European-level educational facility. Few believed the project could be achieved, reflects Mrs. Zagoriy, but Patriarch Joseph Slipyj’s instruction to “Dream Big” prevailed. James C. Temerty, 78, a major philanthropist of Ukrainian heritage, donated US $5 million for the project. “What could possibly be greater than knowing that my name and the name of my wife, my family will forever be associated with the Ukrainian saint and hero, Metropolitan Andrey Sheptytsky?” he said. Another million dollars came from the German government. The $7 million building, designed by Behnisch Architekten, was inaugurated in September 2017.

This is not a typical university. UCU follows Vatican regulations while striving to remain on the cutting edge. Senior Vice-Rector Taras Dobko opens his op-eds with an encyclical from Pope Francis and ends with quotes on personal growth from “New York Times” columnist David Brooks. Balancing relevance with a 2000-year-old tradition is challenging, as UCU must respect the interests of diverse communities of believers. In the U.S., Catholics can choose among dozens of institutions that suit their worldview, but UCU, as Ukraine’s only Catholic university, must navigate the interests of multiple veto groups.

Lyubomyr Tarnovskyi, UCU Vice-Rector for Finance, joined the university after leaving Galnaftogaz in the early 2010s. “My friends were surprised and kept asking, ‘Did you really retire to the monastery or what?’” he recalls. “Back then, I realized what courage it took Bishop Borys,” says Mr. Slywotzky, recalling his first visit in the late 2000s, when there was almost nothing but a building, a few classes, and even fewer people.

Founder

Until the late 2000s, UCU existed primarily in the mind of Bishop Borys. There was no campus yet, but he tirelessly built a network of supporters and partners whose influence became clear only after two decades. Borys Gudziak was born in Syracuse, New York, to a family that fled Galicia from the Soviets and actively participated in the Ukrainian community in exile. At age seven, he met Metropolitan Josyf Slipyj, who had spent 18 years in Soviet concentration camps. Exiled to the West, Slipyj founded the Ukrainian Catholic University in Rome. When asked about funding, he replied: “You don’t worry about the money. We’ll somehow find the money after all.”

Gudziak graduated from Syracuse University and earned his thesis in Slavic Studies at Harvard. In 1988, he completed a six-month internship in Kyiv to learn the language and connect with leaders of the underground church. In 1992, he returned permanently to Ukraine to help revive a university project continuing the legacy of the Lviv Theological Academy, founded by Metropolitan Sheptytsky and first led by Patriarch Slipyj.

Natalia Klymovska, then a Lviv Polytechnic student, recalls meeting Gudziak in 1992: “He stared into the distance and said, ‘We have very big plans…’ I thought, ‘That American guy, he won’t succeed.’” Yet Gudziak’s persuasion won her over, and she became UCU’s first employee. Bishop Borys emphasizes the university’s mission to challenge the legacy of totalitarianism and help young people develop professionally without corruption or plagiarism.

“Non-Ukrainians showed a far greater trust in our university than the Ukrainian establishment,” he notes. His insight proved correct under Yanukovych’s regime, when attempts to interfere with the university, including by the Security Service, were swiftly countered by UCU supporters, including the U.S. State Department.

Start-up Approach

UCU nurtures relationships rather than focusing on immediate funding. Bishop Borys encourages donors to visit, give lectures, teach courses, or support students. Over time, those who share UCU’s values become increasingly involved. Slywotzky describes UCU as a start-up: “They stick to Bezos’ philosophy: ‘Every day is the first day.’ Always in a fight, scratched, yet fun, focused and very fast. None of this is an attribute of a traditional corporation.”

UCU is experimenting with expanding its donor network from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands, allowing small ongoing contributions of UAH 50–250. If successful, this could influence global models of philanthropy and entrepreneurship.

Expansion

As a private institution, UCU must manage finances carefully. In six years, it increased non-donor income from 21% in 2014 to 36% in 2019/2020. The COVID-19 pandemic challenged operating sustainability, prompting UCU to rethink student engagement, professor efficiency, and integrating education with real-world practice.

Bishop Borys articulated UCU’s mission in December 2014: “We have to aspire to change both the East and the West… until European values are honored again… which needs Ukraine so desperately.” Despite fewer than 2,000 students, UCU prioritizes high-quality education over sheer numbers, inviting others to pursue a similar “quality of life,” rooted in love, which “may not be imposed on anyone.”