A Herzen Reader

The ideal for Khomyakov¹⁸ and his friends lay in the past of the Russian people, their everyday existence, transformed into an unbelievable purity. But its apotheosis, however exaggerated, was, in its principal features, true. A saint's life is required for every canonization, and in the ideal of the Slavs, who had preserved the everyday features of our people, there was a great prophecy that they saw as a memory.

Which of these ideals had to be overcome? Or on what point could they be reconciled and go forth arm in arm?

The revolution of 1848 and its consequences brought with it elements of a resolution of this question.

At the very least, since that time the argument about which we have been speaking has changed.

It seemed that everything had abandoned the Russian development that had begun, it seemed that it would disappear like an unsuccessful experi­ment, and would plunge into a new millennium of serfdom, barbarity, and byzantinism.

The light from Europe that had entered through the cracks of our prison walls began to fade, and it was difficult to make anything out. In the West only dark clouds drifted by, jostling each other. [. . .] Russia grew silent. Hav­ing put up with it for a long time and seeing no way out, Granovsky, weary, worn out, blessed the fate of the deceased Belinsky and envied him his death!..¹⁹ Then he who passionately loved Russia asked if some sort of posi­tion could be found for him in Belgium, because while he had the strength to die for Russia, he did not have the strength to live there any longer.

But life went on.

Russian life is tenacious—all the adversity, all the blows missed their mark. Why? Isn't it because they did not apply the blows in the places on which the life and growth of this strange organism depended?

At the very height of despotism and persecution in Russia and reaction in Europe, the dominant turn of mind in Moscow and Petersburg began to worry about other issues. Khomyakov, K. Aksakov, and their circle gave particular attention to the Russian rural commune and the communal owner­ship of land. The Petrashevsky circle in Petersburg made the study of social- economic theory their program of study.

In this way the Slavophiles abandoned archeology.

With the Petrashevsky circle, a retrospective movement began, which of necessity had gained control of minds after the 14th of December. A practi­cal move, which had become bookish, rushed once more out of the book and into practical activity. The Petrashevsky circle formed a society, and the government took it to be a conspiracy. There was no conspiracy, but Liprandi, like a truffle hunter, sniffed it out.²⁰

The Petrashevtsy were led out onto the square, the maneuvers for execu­tion were performed, and they were led off in shackles to "houses of the dead," and hard labor; but their ideas fermented, and were expressed in private arguments and discussions.²¹

One thing horrified everyone—the force majeure of imperial power. All human aspirations struck uselessly against an impregnable, granite barrier.

Faith in the impregnable power of Nicholas himself saved Russia—it brought the fleet of Sir Charles Napier to the Gulf of Bothnia.

Nicholas went to take a look at it and returned with aged eyes and a sunken face.²²

He understood the calamity. the magic disappeared.

With every salvo in the Crimea the echo shook Petersburg; the walls of the Winter Palace cracked. Everyone began to suspect that only the outside layer was granite, and that inside was filler. Given the historically bureau­cratic construction of the Russian imperial state, as with all government construction, some quartermasters had indulged in theft.

Nicholas understood that it was impossible to cover this up; wandering sleeplessly like a specter through the halls of his palace and making the sen­tries kneel and pray for victory, he began to think about betrayal, the betrayal of all that he held sacred, for which he had trampled his own human heart and ruined two or three young generations.

He wanted to issue a call to the Slavs, to restore the hated Poland and to get Hungary, which he had recently crushed, back on its feet, if only to once again have the Winter Palace unshakeable and threatening, to have the granite covering once again taken for a solid cliff, to not see any more the oscillating masts of Sir Charles Napier, and to not hear the echo of the Sevastopol thunder. Let the peasants arm themselves; let military units choose their own officers!