NIU Series in Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies

The Historical-Spiritual Destinies of Russia and the West

Lee Congdon

• Publisher: Northern Illinois University Press
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781609092245
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Russian History
• Index: History

In this examination of Solzhenitsyn and his work, Lee Congdon explores the consequences of the atheistic socialism that drove the Russian revolutionary movement. Beginning with a description of the post-revolutionary Russia into which Solzhenitsyn was born, Congdon addresses the Bolshevik victory in the civil war, the origins of the concentration camp system, the Bolsheviks' war on Christianity and the Russian Orthodox Church, Solzhenitsyn's arrest near the war's end, his time in the labor camps, his struggle with cancer, his exile and increasing alienation from the Western way of life, and his return home. He concludes with a reminder of Solzhenitsyn's warning to the West—that it was on a path parallel to that which Russia had followed into the abyss.

CHAPTER ONE

REVOLUTION AND WAR

Aleksandr (Sanya) Isaevich Solzhenitsyn was born in Kislovodsk, a resort town in the North Caucasus, on December 11, 1918. His father, Isaaki Solzhenitsyn, survived service in the Great War only to die as a result of a hunting accident at the time of his wife’s pregnancy. Thus, while his mother, née Taissia Shcherbak, looked for work in Rostov-on-Don, she placed Aleksandr in the care of his maternal grandparents and aunts Maria and Irina; the latter did her best to instill in the boy the Russian Orthodox faith.

At the time of Aleksandr’s birth, Russia was in the throes of a chaotic and savage civil war that pitted the Bolshevik “Reds” against the anti-Bolshevik “Whites,” the latter being united by little more than a determination to prevent the communists from consolidating the power they had seized from a weak Provisional Government in October (OS) 1917. The odds were not then in the Bolsheviks’ favor. By the summer of 1918, twenty-nine anti-Bolshevik governments were functioning in the lands that had once comprised the Russian Empire.

In addition to these self-proclaimed governments, the Bolsheviks faced a formidable Czech Legion. Originally made up of Russian-born Czechs and Slovaks, the Legion had received permission from the Provisional Government to open its ranks to Czech and Slovak POWs. By the end of 1917, it numbered sixty thousand men and constituted a tough fighting force hostile to the Central Powers, especially Austria-Hungary; the Allies therefore recognized it and placed it under the French High Command. Thanks to negotiations with Thomas Masaryk, who was working for “Czechoslovak” independence, the Bolsheviks granted the Legion permission to move across Siberia to Vladivostok, whence Allied ships were to transport it around the world to France, where it would join in the struggle against the Germans.

Before long, however, Leon Trotsky, the brilliant and ruthless organizer of the Red Army who had not been party to the original negotiations, demanded that all noncommunist Russian officers attached to the Legion be removed and that the Czechs retain only enough arms to defend themselves. Increasingly suspicious, the Czechs hid their weapons and used them when, after a violent clash with some Hungarian prisoners, they turned on local Bolshevik authorities investigating the incident. Trotsky then ordered that any armed Czech or Slovak be shot. As a result hostilities between the Legion and the Bolsheviks broke out all along the Trans-Siberian Railroad line.

To make matters still worse for the Bolsheviks, they faced an Allied intervention. When, in March 1918, they signed the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk with Germany in the hope of gaining “breathing space,” the Allies worried that war supplies in Archangel and Vladivostok, supplies they had provided, might fall into German hands. Fearing an attack by the Finns (under German command) on Murmansk—site of a new and relatively ice-free port not far from Archangel—a small British and French force went ashore. Because Murmansk was in the hands of Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries (rival socialist groups), the Bolsheviks initially approved the landing, but they soon had reason to reverse their decision. The Allies had adopted British Major-General F. C. Poole’s plan to occupy Archangel and launch a major offensive into the interior. Poole’s forces did in fact enter Archangel and quickly established an anti-Bolshevik government.

Nor was that all. On July 6, 1918, US President Woodrow Wilson called a White House meeting of his top advisers and set forth a series of propositions and a program of action. Having learned that the Czech Legion had succeeded in taking Vladivostok, he stated that the United States and other governments were obligated to help its forces form a junction with their compatriots farther to the west. He therefore proposed sending seven thousand troops to Vladivostok, where they would join a comparable number of Japanese troops. The combined force would guard the Czechs’ line of communication as they moved west. The United States and Japan would announce publicly that their sole purpose was to aid the Czechs in their fight against German and Austrian prisoners. It was, however, the Bolsheviks with whom the Czechs were at war.

Wilson’s decision opened the way for an intervention by troops from the United States, Britain, France, Japan, and other countries. To be sure, some sent token forces only, but Japan dispatched seventy-three thousand men. And even if the purpose of the intervention remained ill-defined—to reopen the eastern front? overthrow the communist regime? secure a foothold in the Far East?—the Bolsheviks could not but be alarmed.

At the time of Solzhenitsyn’s birth, then, the Bolsheviks’ future hung precariously in the balance. And yet, some things were working in their favor. The various White (anticommunist) forces never coordinated their efforts, and no one of them offered a political program likely to attract the Russian peasantry. The Bolsheviks controlled the central core of the country, and Trotsky had, often by brutal means, molded the Red Army into a formidable fighting force. Moreover, they had in Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, called Lenin (from the Lena River in Siberia), a leader who possessed an iron will and who did not hesitate to employ terror in the effort to impose it.

Lenin was born on April 10, 1870, in the Volga city of Simbirsk. His ethnic background, which included Russian, Kalmyk, Jewish, German, and Swedish elements, predisposed him to the cosmopolitanism of his later years. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that, although Russian by culture, he never identified with Russia. Solzhenitsyn once wrote that “nothing in his [Lenin’s] character, his will, his inclinations made him kin to that [in his view] slovenly, slapdash, eternally drunken country.”¹ Whether or not he ever professed any Christian belief—he seems to have taken atheism for granted from an early age—his devout parents, Ilya and Maria Ulyanov, had him baptized in the Russian Orthodox Church. Later in life, he told a comrade that “already in the fifth class in high school [i.e., at age sixteen], I broke sharply with all questions of religion: I took off my cross and threw it in the rubbish bin.”² At the insistence of his mother-in-law to be, however, he wedded Nadezhda Krupskaya in an Orthodox ceremony in 1898.

Lenin was then in Siberian exile—a militant atheist and revolutionary whose brother Alexander had been executed in 1887 for his participation in a plan to assassinate Tsar Alexander III. His hatred of the tsarist government knew no bounds, and he steeped himself in the literature of revolution: Marx and Engels, but even more important, Nikolai Chernyshevsky, son of a priest and author of the bible of the Russian revolutionary movement: What Is to Be Done? His reading of Chernyshevsky and other Russian revolutionaries drove Lenin to embrace the more violent and voluntaristic side of Marxism. It was this that distinguished his followers, the so-called Bolsheviks (or Majority Group), from the more orthodox and deterministic Mensheviks (or Minority Group) within the Russian Social Democratic Party.

Like so many of his revolutionary comrades, Lenin lived in exile for long years. After being detained by the police in St. Petersburg during the summer of 1900, he thought it prudent to leave the country for Western Europe. There, except for a few months at the time of the abortive 1905 revolution, he remained until 1917. His was an endless round of conspiratorial meetings and intraparty controversies, the tone and burden of which Solzhenitsyn was to capture so vividly in Lenin in Zurich. Shortly after the outbreak of the Great War, Lenin retreated to neutral Switzerland, a place of refuge for many who were seeking to avoid combat.

Lenin was not the only well-known person residing in wartime Zurich. Tom Stoppard was intrigued by the fact that James Joyce and the Dadaist Tristan Tzara were also living there, and in Travesties he turned the coincidence to theatrical account with his customary intelligence and wit. In his acknowledgments Stoppard pointed out that nearly every word Lenin speaks in the play came from his Collected Writings or from Krupskaya’s Memories of Lenin. Certainly the character of Lenin’s words concerning Tolstoy ring true: “On the one hand [we have Tolstoy’s] merciless criticism of capitalist exploitation, on the other hand the crackpot preaching of submission and of one of the most odious things on earth, namely religion.”³

Lenin did not refer merely to the so-called Tolstoyan religion, which accepted the teachings of Jesus but not his divinity. He had uppermost in mind the Russian Orthodox Church that had excommunicated the great writer. For the Church and the historic faith it proclaimed, he knew nothing but hatred; “every religious idea,” he once wrote to the writer Maxim Gorky, “every idea of god, even every flirtation with the idea of god is unutterable vileness.”⁴ Lenin dreamed of the day when he could answer Voltaire’s call: écraser l’infâme—but with a vengeance. That day arrived sooner than he expected. In February 1917 the government of Tsar Nicholas II collapsed in the streets of Petrograd, a casualty of, above all else, the war. Two organized powers seemed poised to assume power: the Duma (or parliament) and the Soviet (or council) of Workers’ and Soldiers’ Deputies.

The Duma leaders were primarily liberals of Western European stamp, while the leaders of the Soviet were socialists, primarily Mensheviks and Socialist Revolutionaries. The Soviet leaders were reluctant to form a provisional government, in part because of the chaos with which they would be confronted, in part because the Mensheviks regarded the uprising as the bourgeois, not the proletarian, revolution. In the end, therefore, it was Duma members who formed a Provisional Government, ultimately headed by Alexander Kerensky, a member of the Duma (representing the Labor Group—Trudoviks—of the Socialist Revolutionary Party) and the Soviet and, like Lenin, a native of Simbirsk.

Kerensky and the government he led faced near anarchy and uncompromising opposition from the political right and left, especially the Bolsheviks, whose chances of seizing power depended upon Lenin’s ruthless leadership. But how was he to reach Russia from Zurich? Fortunately for him, he had won the allegiance of Israel Lazarevich Gelfand, called Parvus, one of the most complex figures in the history of the revolutionary movement. Parvus was many things: a well-educated revolutionary, successful businessman, journalist, and schemer who had established valuable contacts with German intelligence and the German High Command.

Kerensky made a great many mistakes over the months (February to October) of the Provisional Government’s existence, but only one of them really mattered: he kept Russia in the war. That alone spelled doom for him and his government, for the Russians had lost the will to fight on. Lenin knew this and recognized that it presented an opportunity to seize power from an unstable and unpopular government. He knew too that he and the Germans had an interest in common: the undermining of the Russian war effort. It was as a result of that interest that the Germans, in one of the greatest blunders of the twentieth century, allowed the Bolshevik leader to return to Russia by train through Germany. Upon his arrival at Petrograd’s Finland Station, Lenin announced a program of “Peace, Land, and Bread” and refused any support, even temporary, for the Provisional Government: “All Power,” he said, “to the Soviets!”

Lenin, Trotsky, and the Bolsheviks had little difficulty making a second revolution—in reality a coup d’état—in late October 1917; there were fewer defenders of the Kerensky government then than of the tsar’s government in February. What had been an obscure group of conspirators was now the government of Russia—or at least it claimed to be. Three years of civil war lay ahead. From the first, however, the despotic nature of the Bolshevik regime was on full display. One of Lenin’s first acts was to create the Extraordinary Commission for the Struggle against Counterrevolution and Sabotage—the feared Cheka, or political police. As his biographer, Dmitri Volkogonov, has written: “The true father of the Bolshevik concentration camps, the executions, the mass terror and the ‘organs’ which stood above the state, was Lenin.”⁵

There was no larger target for Lenin and the Bolsheviks than the Russian Orthodox Church. Both as an institution and as the propagator of the faith that lay at the foundation of the Russia that was to be destroyed, the Church was the enemy. On February 26, 1918, the new regime decreed the separation of church and state and nationalized all church property, including the Alexander Nevsky Monastery (Lavra), in the Tikhvin Cemetery, where the bones of Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, Borodin, and many other cultural luminaries lay buried. Of this action one contemporary wrote: “They shut the Monastery; no services, and pilgrims were not allowed in. Red Guards stood guard. By every portal, people were wailing and crying.”⁶

And that was merely the beginning. Later that year the Bolsheviks transformed churches into schools, workers’ clubs, cattle yards, car repair shops, and warehouses. They encouraged grassroots attacks on Christian holidays that included mock (atheistic and anti-Christian) “celebrations.” They destroyed relics and, in one year, opened the places of repose of sixty-five saints. They seemed to derive particular pleasure from the execution of priests and hierarchs—often in the most sadistic manner. Metropolitan Vladimir of Kiev was mutilated, castrated, and shot, and his corpse left naked for the public to desecrate. Metropolitan Veniamin of St. Petersburg, in line to succeed the patriarch, was doused with cold water in the freezing cold.⁷ According to the Cheka’s own official data, it put 827 priests to death in the final months of 1918. All of this was “so intolerable for any Russian that many unbelievers began to go to church, distancing themselves psychologically from the persecutors.”⁸

Nor, of course, were Christian resisters (or “counterrevolutionaries”) spared, and there were many of them. Between 1917 and 1920, in the Ural region alone there were 118 antiregime risings in which clergy took part.⁹ That was during the civil war, and thus the Bolsheviks had to wait until 1922 to launch an all-out assault on the Church.

As a result of the civil war, the disastrous economic experiment called “War Communism” and, above all, the “requisitioning” of the peasantry’s food and seed stores, famine gripped the land. In June 1921, the government warned, with good reason, that some twenty-five million people faced starvation. When members of the intelligentsia formed a committee to do something, Lenin was unmoved. After all, during the famine of 1891, he had opposed any relief efforts; the famine, he believed, would destroy faith not only in the tsar, but in God.¹⁰

On July 21, 1921, the Bolshevik government reluctantly legalized the intelligentsia’s committee as the “All-Russian Committee for Aid to the Starving.” The committee obtained the assistance of the Russian Orthodox Church and international organizations such as the Red Cross, the Quakers, and the American Relief Association (ARA), headed by Herbert Hoover. That was quite enough, as far as Lenin was concerned; on August 27 he ordered that the committee be dissolved and its members arrested or exiled. “Tomorrow,” he said, “we will release a brief governmental communiqué saying that the committee has been dissolved because it refused to work. Instruct all newspapers to begin insulting these people, and heap opprobrium upon them.”¹¹ In place of the committee, the government set up a Central Commission for Help for the Hungry that was as corrupt as it was inefficient; some five million people starved to death in 1921–1922.

This did not trouble Lenin in the least. On the contrary, it presented him with the opportunity for which he had been waiting; he could force the church to contribute to famine relief by handing over its valuables. One of Solzhenitsyn’s earliest memories—he must have been three or four—was of being in the church of St. Pantaleimon with his mother when cavalrymen commanded by Semyon Budyonny burst in to confiscate everything of value. The church was willing to donate general property, but it refused to surrender holy vessels; in the textile center of Shuia (March 12–16, 1922), some 150 miles northeast of Moscow, believers resorted to violent resistance, ultimately in vain.

In Lenin’s absence the Politburo had voted to delay further confiscations, but the Bolsh...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Preface
• Chapter One. Revolution and War
• Chapter Two. In the Gulag
• Chapter Three. Thorn in their Side
• Chapter Four. In the West
• Chapter Five. The Return
• Chapter Six. Warning to the West
• Notes
• Bibliography
• Index