G. V. Plekhanov. N. G. Chernyshevsky. Shipovnik Publishing House. St. Petersburg, 1910

SECTION THREE N. G. CHERNYSHEVSKY’S VIEWS ON LITERATURE Chapter One THE SIGNIFICANCE OF LITERATURE AND ART

[221]... The view of art as play, supplemented by the view of play as a “child of labour,” sheds a very bright light on the essence and history of art. It makes it possible for the first time to view them from a materialist standpoint. We know that, at the very beginning of his literary activity, Chernyshevsky made an attempt, which was most successful in its own way, at applying Feuerbach’s materialist philosophy to aesthetics. We have devoted a special work to describing that attempt.^[1] So we shall merely say here that although it was

most successful in its own way, that attempt is affected, in the same way as Chernyshevsky’s views on history, by the main shortcoming of Feuerbach’s philosophy: insufficient elaboration of its historical, or to be more exact, dialectical aspect. And it is just because this aspect was not elaborated in the philosophy assimilated by him that Chernyshevsky could overlook the great importance of the concept of play for a materialist

interpretation of art....

Chapter Two BELINSKY, CHERNYSHEVSKY AND PISAREV

[236]... “Lasting enjoyment is afforded to man

by reality alone; only those desires are of serious importance which are based on reality; success [237] may be expected only from hopes evoked by reality, and only from those deeds which are accomplished with the help of forces and circum- stances offered by reality.”^[3]

Such was the new notion of “reality.” Cherny- shevsky had Feuerbach in mind when he said that it had been formed by modern thinkers from the

obscure allusions of transcendental philosophy. And he expounded Feuerbach’s concept of reality

quite correctly. Feuerbach said that sensuousness or actuality is identical with truth, i.e., that the object in its true sense is given only by sensation.

Speculative philosophy supposed that ideas of objects based only on sense experience do not correspond to the real nature of the objects and must be verified with the aid of pure thought,

i.e., thought not based on sense experience. Feuer- bach decisively rejected this idealistic view. He asserted that conceptions of objects based on our sense experience fully correspond to the nature of these objects. The only trouble is that our imagination frequently distorts these conceptions,

which, therefore, come into contradiction with our sense experience. Philosophy should drive out

from our conceptions the fantastic element that distorts them; it should bring them into accord with sense experience. It must return mankind to a contemplation of real objects undistorted by fancy, such as prevailed in ancient Greece. And insofar as mankind passes to such contemplation, it returns to itself, because people who submit to figments of the imagination can themselves be only imaginary and not real beings. In the words of Feuerbach, the essence of man is sensuousness, i.e., actuality, and not imagination and not ab- straction. The task of philosophy and science in general is to restore reality to its rightful place. But if that is so, it follows of itself that the tasks of aesthetics as a branch of science are also to restore reality to its rightful place and combat the imaginary element in man’s notions. It was on this conclusion from Feuerbach’s philosophy that Chernyshevsky’s aesthetic views were based; it constituted the main idea of his dissertation. And there is no doubt that Belinsky had the same conclusion in mind when, in his [238] second but last annual review of literature, he described the concept of “reality” as a new one....

[242]... Everyone knows that the criticism of the sixties, the criticism of Dobrolyubov for example, often crossed over into journalism. Hence, in speaking of Chernyshevsky, we shall not so much present proofs of this thought as illustrations of it. In 1858 Chernyshevsky’s article “The Russian at a Rendezvous. Reflections on Turgenev’s story Asya” appeared in the review section of Atheneum, No. 3. This article is one of the most brilliant examples of journalistic criticism. Very little, almost nothing, is said in the article about Turgenev ’s actual story, which Chernyshevsky calls “practically the only good new story.” The author merely draws attention to the scene in which the hero of the story makes his declaration of love to Asya, and in connection with this scene, he indulges in “reflections” The reader will recall, of course, that at the critical moment Turgenev’s hero turned coward and withdrew. It Is this circumstance that caused Chernyshevsky to “reflect.” He notes that indeci- sion and cowardice are the distinctive features not only of this hero, but of most of the heroes of our best literary works. He recalls Rudin, Beltov, and the tutor of Nekrasov’s Sasha, and sees the same features in all of them. He does not blame the authors of the novels on this account since they were only recording what is met with at every step in real life. There is no manliness in Russian people, therefore the characters in the novels have none either. And Russian people have no manliness because they are not in the

habit of taking part in public affairs. “When we go into society, we see around us people in uniforms and civilian morning or evening dress;

these people are five and a half or six feet tall, and sometimes even more; they grow or shave the hair on their cheeks, above their upper lip and [243] on their chin; and we imagine we are looking at men. This is a total error, an optical illusion, a hallucination, nothing more. Without acquiring the habit of elementary participation in civil affairs, without acquiring the feelings of a citizen, the male child grows up and becomes middle-aged, and then an elderly being of the masculine gender, but he does not become a man or, at any rate, not a man of a noble character.”^[4] Among humane, educated people, the absence of noble manliness strikes one still more than among ignorant people, because the humane, educated man likes to talk about important matters. He talks with enthusiasm and eloquence, but only until it becomes a matter of passing from words to deeds. “So long as there is no question of action, but merely the need to fill up empty hours, an empty mind, or an empty heart, with talk and dreams, the hero is very glib; but once it is a matter of expressing his feelings plainly and exactly, the majority of the heroes immediately begin to waver and feel tongue-tied. A few, the most courageous, somehow contrive to muster their forces and stammer something that provides a vague idea of their thoughts. But just attempt to take their wishes at face value and say to them: ‘you want so-and-so; we’re very glad; begin to do something about it and you’ll have our support‘—if such a remark is made one half of the very brave heroes faint, the other begin to gruffly reproach you for putting them in an awkward position; they begin to say that they did not expect such proposals from you, they are quite at a loss and cannot think properly because it is not possible to do so at a moment’s notice and, moreover, they are honest people, and not only honest but very mild, and they do not want to cause you any unpleasantness, and that, in general, it is not possible, really, to trouble oneself about all that is said merely from having

nothing to do, and that it is best not to undertake anything at all, because everything involves trouble and inconvenience, and at present nothing

good can come of it, because, as already said, they never for a moment expected, or anticipated, and so on and so forth.”^[5]  

One can say that the portrait is painted with a master’s hand. However, the master was not a literary critic, but a journalist.

[245]... As for the requirements of the period, they consisted, to his mind, [246] in concessions to the peasantry. Chernyshevsky exhorted the “estimable” gentlemen with this quotation from the Gospel: “Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any

time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing.” (Mat., Oh. V, verses 25 and 26).^[7]

It is self-evident that every theoretical conclu- sion concerning the capacity of a given social class or stratum for definite practical action always requires a certain degree of verification by expe- rience, and that, consequently, it can be considered trustworthy a priori only within certain, more or less broad limits. Thus, for example, it was possible

with complete assurance to foretell that even the most educated section of the nobility would refuse to sacrifice their interests for the sake of the peasants. Such a prediction in no way required practical verification. But when it was necessary to etermine to what extent the educated nobility were capable of making concessions to the peas- antry in their own interests, then no one could say in advance with absolute certainty: they will not go in that direction beyond such-and-such a limit. Here it was always possible to assume that under certain circumstances the educated nobility would go a little further, after arriving at a some- what more correct understanding of its own inter- ests. Being practical, as Chernyshevsky was in this case, he not only could but had to endeavour to persuade the nobility that certain concessions to the freed peasants were required in its own in- terests. Thus, what might have seemed to consti- tute a contradiction in his article—the demand for a judicious and resolute step on the part of people whose incapacity for decision and wisdom is here admitted and explained as a necessary product of circumstances—was actually no contradiction at

all. Such imaginary contradictions can also be found in the political practice of people who take their stand on the firm ground of the materialist explanation of history. However, here it is neces-

sary to make a very essential reservation. When

a materialist applies his theoretical [247] con- clusions in practice with a certain amount of cau- tion, he can nevertheless guarantee that his con- clusions contain a certain element of the most indisputable certainty. And this is because, when he says: “everything depends on circumstances,”

he knows from what side one must expect the appearance of the new circumstances that will change the will of people in the direction he desires; he knows quite well that, in the final analysis, they are to be expected from the side of “econom- ics,” and that the truer his analysis of the socio- economic life of society, the more trustworthy his prediction concerning the future development of society. Not so with the idealist, who is con- vinced that “opinions rule the world.” If “opin- ions” are the basic cause of social movement, then the circumstances on which the further devel- opment of society depends are linked chiefly to the conscious activity of people, while the possi- bility of any practical influence on this activity is dependent on the greater or lesser ability of people to think logically and master the new truths discovered by philosophy or science. But this ability depends itself on circumstances. Thus, the idealist who recognises the materialist truth that the character and also, of course, the views of man, depend on circumstances, finds himself in a vicious circle: views depend on circumstances, circum- stances on views. The thought of the “enlightener” in theory has never broken out of this vicious circle. In practice the contradiction was usually solved by a strong appeal to all thinking people, indepen- dently of the circumstances under which such people were living and acting. What we are now saying may appear unnecessary and for that reason a boring digression. But in point of fact this digres- sion was essential for us. It will help us to under-

stand the nature of the journalistic criticism of the sixties.

Since the hopes of the “enlightener” are pinned on the intellect and good will of thinking people, i.e., in effect of the “enlighteners” themselves, it is obvious that critics desiring to support these people will demand from fiction above all an exact depiction of social life with all its pros and cons, with its “positive” and “negative” phenom- ena. Only an exact portrayal of all aspects of life can furnish an “enlightener” with the factual data needed by him for passing judgment on that life....

[253]... However, N. Uspensky used to express himself even more emphatically. For example, he wrote: “Nothing is to be expected from the present-day peasants who not so long ago were the victims of serfdom:—they will not be resurrect- ed!... It is unlikely that medicine will ever cure atrophy, because the disease is based on organic damage....”^[8] It was quite difficult for the “people of the seventies” to agree with this. It was chiefly this that gave rise to the unfavourable attitude of the critics of that epoch towards N. V. Uspensky.

The reader will perhaps ask: but was it easy for Chernyshevsky himself to agree with N. V. Uspen- sky’s completely hopeless view of “the present-day peasants,” since Chernyshevsky evidently considered

possible at that time a broad movement of the people who were dissatisfied with the conditions of the abolition of serfdom. To this we reply that,

obviously, this would not have been easy for him if he considered himself bound to agree uncondi- tionally with N. V. Uspensky. But that is precisely the point—he did not agree unconditionally with him. He considered N. V. Uspensky’s essays quite truthful; but he did not draw a hopeless conclu- sion from them. He said: “Routine dominates the ordinary course of life of common people; and among the plain folk, like in all other social- estates, the routine is just as dull and banal as in all other social-estates. Mr. Uspensky’s merit is to have had the courage to depict for us, without con- cealment or adornment, the routine thoughts and actions, feelings and customs of plain people. The picture is not at all attractive: at every step nonsense and dirt, pettiness and dullness.

“But do not be in a hurry to draw conclusions from this regarding the validity or non-validity of your hopes, if you wish to alleviate the lot of the people; or of your misgivings, if you were so far concerned about the dullness and inertia of the people. Take the commonest, most colourless, weak-willed, shallow person; no matter how drab and petty the life he leads, it has in it moments

of a totally different [254] shade, moments of energetic efforts, courageous decisions. The same is also encountered in the history of every na- tion.“^[9]

The circumstances, on which everything depends in the last resort, may take such a turn that even an apathetic mass will become capable of vigorous effort and courageous decision. While waiting for the moment when the circumstances take a favourable turn, one must attentively study the backward mass. The initiative in taking courageous decisions will never come from the mass of the populace; hut one has to know the character of the people making up this mass “in order to know in what way initiative may stimulate them.”^[10] And the more accurately fiction represents the character of the mass of the people, the more it will facilitate the task of those who, under favour- able circumstances, will have to take the initiative in making great decisions.

Now we shall ask the reader to recall that in one of the theses of his dissertation Chernyshevsky, emphasising the portrayal of life as the chief characteristic of art, adds: “works of art often have another significance—they explain life; often they also provide a verdict on the phenomena of life.” What we have quoted, if only from one article “Is This Not the Beginning of a Change?”, clearly shows to what extent literary criticism in the person of Chernyshevsky was inclined to value the portrayal of life chiefly as material for inter- preting it and judging it (for passing a verdict on the phenomena of life). The same tendency of Chernyshevsky manifests itself definitely in all his other literary articles. Here is what he says, for example, in a review of a collection of poetry by A. N. Pleshcheyev (Sovremennik, 1861, No. 3).

He recalls with displeasure the time when our critics treated Pleshcheyev with scorn and even ill-will. “It seems monstrous now,” he says. “Surely the noble sentiments and noble ideas which breath- ed from every page of Mr. Pleshcheyev’s booklet were not so commonplace in the Russian poetry of the time as to be dismissed with scorn. When, indeed, is such a thing possible and permissible?” Pleshcheyev, according to him, had no great poetic talent and his aspirations [255] and hopes were quite vague. But he did possess great sincerity and as for expressing his hopes with greater preci- sion, he could not do so for reasons beyond his control.

[262]... Pisarev possessed tremendous literary

talent. But for all the enjoyment that the unpre- judiced reader derived from the literary brilliancy of Pisarev’s articles, it must be admitted that “Pisarevism” was a sort of reductio ad absurdum of the idealism of our “enlighteners...”

[266]... Some of Mikhailovsky’s sociological articles have now been translated into French and, if we are not mistaken, also into German. Pre- sumably, however, they will not make his name very well known in Furope. But it is very possible that they will earn praise from one or two of those European thinkers who are going “back to Kant!” out of hatred of Marxism. In spite of the opinion of our latest historian of literature, there can be

nothing flattering in these praises. But extremely worth noting is the irony of history which makes a theoretical weapon of reaction out of what was an innocent theoretical mistake in a more or less progressive utopism.

PART TWO N. G. CHERNYSHEVSKY’S VIEWS ON POLITICS AND POLITICAL ECONOMY   SECTION ONE N. G. CHERNYSHEYSKY’S POLITICAL VIEWS Chapter One UTOPIAN SOCIALISM

[280]... His article goes on to tell of the strange and often ridiculous acts to which the Saint- Simonists were driven in their extreme exaltation. He calls them drawing-room heroes overcome by a fit of philanthropy. But he qualifies this severe judgment of them. The Saint-Simonist movement was the first expression of the concept of trans- forming society, and that first expression is of great

[281] historic significance. It indicates that it is high time society concerned itself with the ideas of reform that first appeared in the unsatisfactory form of Saint-Simonism.

In conclusion, Chernyshevsky says of reformist

ideas: “We shall soon see that they have begun to appear in more reasonable forms and to reach

people for whom they are no longer a delightful amusement but a matter of necessity, and when that class which the Saint-Simonists wished to humbug begins reasonably to concern itself about

its own well-being, then, probably, life on earth will be better for it than it is at present.“^[11] This

is a highly important remark. It shows that in his views on the future of West-European socialism Chernyshevsky came very close to the theory of the class struggle. But we know already of the role which this theory has played in his views on history. Sometimes it helped him to explain very successful- ly certain isolated historical phenomena; but he looked on it as a rather serious obstacle to progress instead of a necessary condition for it in a society divided into classes. The reader will recall that Cbernyshevsky saw the weak development of the class struggle in Spain as an earnest of that country’s progressive development in the future. In his comments on events in France in 1848, as well as in the passage we have just quoted, he seems to incline to the idea that the emancipation movement of the proletariat is now becoming the motive force of social progress in Western Europe. But with him this idea remains one of the germs of a materialist interpretation of history to which we have repeated- ly called the reader’s attention in dealing with our author’s views on history....

[282]... He explains the backwardness of the “ordinary people” of Europe as being due to the fact that well-known scientific conceptions have not yet reached the people. When they do, when “ordinary people” become acquainted with philo- sophical views “corresponding to their needs,” then the triumph of the new principles in the social life of Western Europe will not be far off.^[12] Cherny- shevsky does not ask himself the question whether

any phenomena exist in this life that could provide an objective guarantee that the new philosophical ideas will, in fact, ultimately reach the “ordinary people.” He has no need for such a guarantee

because, as he sees it, the very nature of these principles, and also the nature of man, quite sufficiently guarantee the triumph of the new principles....

Chapter Two UTOPIAN SOCIALISM (Continuation)

[289]... Chernyshevsky regards the question of socialism, as he does all the other general questions of historical development, from the point of view of idealism. And this idealist attitude to the most important historical phenomena was typical of the socialism of all countries in the utopian period of its development. This feature of utopian socialism is of such tremendous importance that

it is necessary to dwell on it—without fear of a certain amount of repetition, which may very well occur in the process.

Chapter Three CHERNYSHEVSKY’S “OWN” PLAN AND THE QUESTION OF THE LAND COMMUNE

[313]. ..“Let us suppose,” he says, turning to his favourite method of explanation by means of a “parable”—“let us suppose that I was interested in taking steps to preserve the provisions from the store of which your dinner is prepared. Obviously, if I did so out of affection for you, then my zeal would he based on the assumption that the provi- sions belong to you and that the dinner being pre- pared from them is nourishing and good for you. Just imagine my feelings when I learn that the provisions do not really belong to you and that for every dinner prepared from them you pay money which is not only more than the dinner itself is worth but which, in general, you cannot pay without extremely embarrassing yourself. What ideas will enter my head in the face of such strange discoveries?... How stupid I was to hother about a matter when the conditions for its use- fulness were not guaranteed! Who but a dolt can

bother about the preservation of property in certain hands, without first being assured that the property will remain in those hands and on advantageous terms?... Rather let all these provi- sions, which only cause harm to the person I love, he lost! Rather let the whole matter, which only causes your ruin, vanish! Sorrow for you, shame on account of my own stupidity—that is what

I feel.”^[13]

[315]... Credit is due to Chernyshevsky for the fact that, at the very beginning of his literary activity, he displayed, in his comments on the land commune, far more consideration than many a “Russian socialist” even in the mid-nineties, when to all appearances, only the blind could fail to see that our vaunted “age-long foundations”

were crumbling. As far back as April 1857 he wrote: but “there is no concealing the fact that Russia, which until now has had a small share in economic progress, is being rapidly swept along with it, and our way of life, until now scarcely affected by the economic laws which reveal their power only in times of increased economic and commercial activity, is beginning rapidly to be subjected to them. Perhaps it will not be long before we, too, are drawn into the sphere of full operation of the law of competition.”^[14]

This is precisely what the theoreticians of our Narodism ever since sought to conceal from them- selves and their readers for so long and with so much care. What the Scriptures say is true: star differs from star in glory.... Being convinced that our country lacks the conditions for making com- munal land tenure a source of well-being for the people, Chernyshevsky was to see that his sym- pathetic attitude to the commune bore in fact very little similarity to the Slavophils’ sympathetic view of it. In his article “On the Causes of the Fall of Rome,” he says that although the commune could contribute to the further development of Russia, it was nonetheless ridiculous to take pride in it, because [316] it was after all a sign of our economic backwardness. He offers an exam- ple: European engineers, he says, now use applied mechanics to construct suspension bridges. But it appears that in a backward Asiatic country—he does not quite remember which one—local engineers have long since been building suspension bridges on suitable sites. Does that mean that applied mechanics in Asia may be placed on a footing with that in Europe? There are bridges and bridges, and the Asian engineers’ suspension bridge is infinitely inferior to its European counterpart. To be sure, when European engineers arrive in the Asiatic country which has long been familiar with suspension bridges, they will find it all the easier

to convince a mandarin that the suspension bridge of today is not a godless invention. But nothing more than that. Despite its suspension bridges, the Asiatic country will remain a backward country all the same while Europe will still be its preceptor. The same holds true for the Russian commune. Perhaps the latter will promote the development

of our country; but the chief stimulus will come nonetheless from the West, and it does not really befit us to renovate the world, even by means of the commune....

Chapter Four SOCIALISM AND POLITICS

[317]... He who tries to obtain an idea of Cherny- shevsky’s political views on the basis of his writ- ings, at first feels a little embarrassed, that is, if he himself is not indifferent [318] to politics. Indeed, the man who next to Beliusky was the most colourful exponent of progressive tendencies in our literature, at first glance appears to be politically indifferent. And it is not because he has employed a few unfortunate expressions, nor be- cause of a slip of the pen, but on account of the general principles by which he is sometimes guided in judging the more important phenomena of West-European life. For evidence of this we refer to the article “Party Struggles in France Under Louis XVIII and Charles X” (Sovremennik, 1858, Nos. .8 and 9). There we read:

“The fundamental desires, the basic urges, of liberals and democrats are essentially different. Democrats intend to abolish as far as possible the predominance of the upper classes over the lower in the state structure; on the one hand to reduce the power and wealth of the upper social- estates, on the other to give more weight and well-being to the lower social-estates. How to change the laws in this sense and to support the new structure of society is almost a matter of indiffer- ence to them. On the other hand, the liberals can- not at all agree to give the predominance in society

to the lower social-estates because owing to their lack of education and material poverty, these social-estates are indifferent to the interests that are of the utmost importance to the liberal party, namely, the right of free speech and a constitu- tional system. For the democrat, our Siberia, where the ordinary people are well off, stands far higher than England, where the majority of the people suffer great privations. Out of all political institu- tions, the democrat is irreconcilably hostile to only one—aristocracy; the liberal almost always finds that only with a certain degree of aristocracy can society attain the liberal system. Therefore the liberals are usually the mortal enemies of the democrats, and say that democracy leads to despo- tism and is fatal to freedom.”^[15]

[319]... Chernyshevsky then explains his ideas by arguments which bear out even more forcefully our supposition that by democrats he means socialists. He says: “From the theoretical aspect, liberalism may seem attractive to one whom good fortune has delivered from want: freedom is a very good thing. But liberalism takes a very narrow,

purely formal view of freedom. To it freedom con- sists of abstract right, of formal permission of the absence of legal restraint. It refuses to see that legal right is of value to a person only when he has the material means of exercising that right.^[16]

The people have no material opportunity for avail- ing themselves of political freedom. The majority of them are illiterate almost in all countries. So why should they treasure their right to free speech? Want and lack of education doom them to com- plete ignorance [320] of affairs of state. So why should they take any interest in parliamentary debates?” Chernyshevsky states emphatically that “there is no European country where the vast majority of the people is not completely indif- ferent to the decrees which are the object of the aspirations and concern of liberalism”^[17]....

[329]... In the political survey published in No. 6 of Sovremennik for 1859, Chernyshevsky remarks, after stating that the movement which

insists on intervention by the German [330] Union in Austria’s favour is growing stronger in Germany: “we have not been speaking of ordinary people, but actually of classes in which public opinion is concentrated, classes which engage in political affairs, read the newspapers and influence the

course of affairs—that crowd which everywhere is a plaything of self-interest and intrigue.”^[18]

The “ordinary people” do not read newspapers, do not occupy themselves with political affairs and have no influence on their course. That is the situation now, while their consciousness is still fast asleep. But when it awakens under the in- fluence of the vanguard of the active historical army, consisting of the “best people,” who have learned the lessons of modern science, then the

“ordinary people” will understand that their task consists in the radical reconstruction of society, and then they will undertake the work of this re-

construction, which has no direct relation to questions of the forms of political structure. Such were Chernysheysky’s predominant views, which

are to be found in the majority of his numerous political reviews.^[19] If at times this essentially idealist view of politics makes way for a different view, the germ, as it were, of a materialist understanding this is only an exception, quite like that which we encountered in studying Cher- nyshevsky’s historical views: the reader will remember that in these views which are also essentially idealist, there are

also germs of the materialist view of history. Let us now elucidate with the help of two exam- ples the character that Chernyshevsky’s political reviews had taken under the influence of his aforementioned predominant views regarding the relation of politics to the chief tasks of the

|  working class.  |

First example. In January 1862, in his political review, he enters into a controversy with the Prussian liberal National Zeitung regarding Austria’s internal policy. The National Zeitung wrote: “Let the fate of Austria be a lesson to other states not to undertake expenditures that exceed their financial strength. The cause of Austria’s ruin is her excessive army expenditures.” Cherny- shevsky does not like these reflections of the National Zeitung.

[331]... Such arguments, which led to the con- clusion that the despotic Austrian Government is acting perfectly correctly, should have astonished and in fact did astonish a large number of the

readers of Sovremennik. They produced [332] an impression not so much of indifference to ques- tions of political freedom as of direct sympathy with the obscurantists. Chernyshevsky’s opponents frequently accused him of such sympathies. It was just because of accusations of this kind that at the end of his political review in March 1862

he made the ironical confession: “for us there is no better amusement than liberalism—and we have an irresistible desire to look about for liberals I in order to poke fun at them.” But as a matter of fact, of course, he did not write his paradoxical

reviews in order to “poke fun” at the liberals, nor to defend despotic governments. Basically the

thought was that, while the given social relations existed, things could not proceed otherwise than they were doing and that anyone who wanted

them to proceed differently should devote his efforts to a radical change in social relations. To act

differently would be a waste of time. The liberals evoked Chernyshevsky’s ridicule precisely because they proposed palliatives where a radical cure was necessary.^[21]

Second example. In April of the same year, Chernyshevsky again appeared to take the side of absolutism in its struggle with liberalism in the Prussian Government’s conflict with the Prussian Diet. According to him, the liberals should not have been surprised that the Prussian Government did not make voluntary concessions to them but preferred to agitate the country by dissolving the Diet. “We find,” he says, “that the Prussian Govern- ment acted as it should have.”^[22] This again was bound to astonish the naïve reader and seem to him a betrayal of the cause of freedom. It is clearly

understandable, however, that here, too, our author

was not at all taking up the cudgels in defence of despotism, but only wanted [333] to utilise the Prussian events in order to communicate to the more astute of his readers the correct view of the chief condition on which, in the final analysis, the outcome of all broad social conflicts depends.

Here is what he says on this point:

“Just as quarrels between different states are at first carried on by diplomatic means, so the struggle for principles inside the state itself is at first carried on by means of civilian influence or so-called legal means. But just as a quarrel be- tween different states, if it is sufficiently important,

always loads to military threats, so too with the internal affairs of states, if the affair is not of minor importance. If the quarrelling states are very unequal in power, then the affair is usually solved

by military threats alone: the weaker state suc- cumbs to the will of the stronger, and this prevents open warfare. In just the same way, in important internal affairs, war is only prevented if one of the conflicting sides feels too weak compared with the other: then it submits as soon as it sees that the opposing party has really decided to resort to military measures. But if two quarrelling states are not so unequal in power that the weaker of them cannot hope to repulse an attack, then the affair may pass from threats to war. The defending side has a very big advantage on its side and, therefore, if it is not too weak, it does not lose heart at the decision of the stronger opponent to attack it.”^[23]

It was from this point of view that he examined what was then taking place in Prussia. He defended and praised the Prussian Government—this must be noted—solely because “it was acting in the best possible way in favour of national progress” by destroying the political illusions of those naïve Prussians who, for no obvious reason, imagined

that a system of genuinely constitutional rule would be instituted in their country of itself, without a struggle against the old order. And

if he revealed not the slightest sympathy for the Prussian liberals and even poked fun at them, the explanation is that, in his just opinion, they too wanted to achieve their aims [341] without a deter-

mined struggle against their political enemies. In speaking of the possible outcome of the conflict between the Diet and the Government he remarks, with great perspicacity, that “judging by the present mood of public opinion in Prussia, it is to be presumed that the opponents of the present

system find themselves too weak for military struggle and are ready to yield at the first deter- mined threat from the government that it will resort to military measures.”^[24] And so it turned out. Chernyshevsky was right in his contempt for the Prussian liberals. They indeed wanted constitu- tional order to be instituted in Prussia of itself.

Not only did they not take determined action—for that they could not be blamed since, with the prevailing relation of social forces, this was not possible—but they condemned in principle every

idea of such action, i.e., they hampered, insofar as it depended on them, a change in social forces that would have made it possible to resort to such action in the future. Chernyshevsky could not forgive them that, just as Lassalle could not. It is noteworthy that just when Chernyshevsky was ridiculing the Prussian liberals in his political articles, Lassalle was tearing them to pieces in his speeches. And it is even more noteworthy that in those speeches the German agitator sometimes used the same words as Chernyshevsky to describe the relation of social forces as the foundation of the political system in a particular country. Lassalle had in many respects the same mentors as Cherny- shevsky. It is natural, therefore, that the political thinking of both tended in the same direction, and achieved results that coincided in part. We say “in part” because, in noting the great sim- ilarity of Lassalle’s views to Cherny- shevsky’s, one must not close one’s eyes to the differences between them. Lassalle does not confine himself to concluding that the constitu- tion of any country is the juridical expression of the prevailing correlation of social forces. He seeks the causes which determine this correlation, and finds them in the social economy. Those of Las- salle’s speeches which bear on this question are permeated with a materialist spirit, which is more than can be said, for instance, of his speech

[335] on the philosophy of Fichte, or his “System of Acquired Rights.” Neither does Chernyshevsky ignore the question of the causes determining the relation of social forces, but in his analysis he stops at social self-consciousness, i.e., not crossing the boundary separating historical

idealism from historical materialism. In contrast to Lassalle, he is a far more consistent idealist in his comments on Prussian affairs than in many of his other articles dealing with politics or history. This difference, too, should be attributed com- pletely to the “relation of social forces.” In Prussia,

no matter how weak Prussian capitalism was com- pared with what it is at present, a working- class movement in the modern sense of the word had nevertheless already begun; but in Russia the movement of the “non- gentry,” which is usually called the movement

of the intelligentsia, had only just begun to flourish. Influenced by the requirements of the working-class movement, even idealists are often compelled to reason materialis- tically. One can find many examples in present-day France of how the requirements of the working-class movement exert their influence. The movement of the intelligentsia, on the con- trary, sometimes drives even materialists to purely idealist reasoning. This is particu- larly marked in Russia today.

Chernyshevsky’s political reviews were intended for the “best people,” who had to know what they should teach the backward masses. The work of the “best people” amounted, in the main, to propaganda. But not exclusively. The “ordinary people,” generally speaking, do not figure on the political stage. And what takes place on that stage—again speaking generally—little

affects their interests. But there are exceptional epochs during which the masses of the people awaken from their customary hibernation and make energetic, although often hardly conscious, efforts to improve their destiny. In such exceptional epochs

the activity of the “best people” more or less loses its predominantly propagandist charac-

ter and becomes agitational. This is what

Chernyshevsky says of such epochs:

“Historical progress takes place slowly and arduously... [336], so slowly that, if we limit ourselves to very short periods, the fluctuations produced in the advancing course of history by accidental circumstances may blind us to the action of the general law. In order to convince oneself of its immutability, it is necessary to con- sider the course of events over a fairly long time.... Compare the state of the social institutions and laws of France in 1700 and today—the difference is extremely great, and it is all to the advantage of the present day; and yet almost all this century and a half was very arduous and gloomy. The same also in England. Whence comes the difference? It was being constantly prepared for by the fact that the best people of each generation found life in their time extremely difficult; little by little at least a few of their desires became comprehensible to society, and then, at some time many years later, on propitious occasions, society for six months, a year, or hardly more than three or four years, worked for the fulfilment of at least a few of this small number of desires which had penetrat- ed to it from the best people. The work was never successful: when half the work was done society’s zeal would be exhausted, its strength would give out, and once again the practical life of society would fall into a long period of stagnation; and, as before, the best people, if they survived the work inspired by them, saw that their desires were far from having been carried out and as before had to bemoan life’s burdens. But in the brief period of noble enthusiasm much was reconstructed. Of course, the reconstruction took place hurriedly, there was no time to think about the elegance of the new structures, which remained unfinished, there was no time to bother about the subtle require- ments of architectural harmony between the new

parts and the surviving remains, and the period of stagnation inherited the reconstructed edifice with a multitude of petty incongruities and hideosi- ties. But that period of indolence afforded leisure

to examine carefully every detail and since the improvement of the details that it disliked did not require any particular effort, it was done little by little; and while an exhausted society busied itself with trivia, the best people were saying that the reconstruction was incomplete, and argued that the old parts of the building were becoming more and more dilapidated, and that it was necessary to resume work on a big scale. At first a tired society refused to heed them, re- garding their jarring cry as interference with its rest; then, having recovered its energy, society began to defer more and more to an opinion which had previously aroused its indignation. [337] So- ciety gradually became convinced that there was some truth in it, came to recognise that truth more and more from year to year, and finally was pre- pared to go along with those progressive people who argued that reconstruction was necessary; and, then, at the earliest opportunity it set to work with renewed fervour, again left it unfinished, and once more fell into a slumber, only to resume the effort later on.”^[25]

Chernyshevsky’s political articles were aimed at showing the “best people” that the old structure of the contemporary social system was crumbling more and more and that there was a need to “re- sume work on a big scale.” And everything points to the fact that towards the end of the first, i.e., pre—Siberian period of his literary activity, it began to appear to him that society was more and more heeding his opinion, and falling in with him.

In other words, he began to think that in Russian history too there was approaching one of those beneficial leaps which rarely occur in history, but which push far ahead the process of social develop- ment. The spirits of the advanced sections of

Russian society were indeed rapidly rising, and with them Chernyshevsky’s spirits also rose. At one time he had found it possible and useful to make clear to the government its own interests in the matter of freeing the peasants; now he does not even think of addressing himself to the govern- ment. To count on it at all seems to him harmful self-delusion. In the article “The Russian Reformer” (Sovremennik, October 1861), which he wrote in connection with the publication of M. Korf’s book

The Life of Count Speransky, Chernyshevsky argues at length that no reformer should delude himself with such calculations in our country. Speransky’s enemies called him a revolutionary. This opinion amused Chernyshevsky. Speransky indeed had very broad plans for changes, but it is ludicrous to call him a revolutionary, judging by

the extent of the means he intended using to carry out his intentions. He could maintain his position only because ho had managed to earn the trust of the tsar Alexander I. With this trust to support him, he intended to carry out his plans. That is why Chernyshevsky called him a dreamer....

[338]... Only he who constantly remembers that the course of social life is determined by the re- lationship of social forces does not succumb to harmful delusions in politics. He who wishes to act in accordance with this basic principle has some- times to go through a difficult moral struggle.

Chernyshevsky tries to warn the “best people” of his time on this score, in view of what he thought was the imminent leap. Thus, as far back as January 1861, in analysing a book by the well- known American economist, Carey, whose insig- nificance, incidentally, he brilliantly exposes, he unexpectedly passes to the well-known Jewish heroine, Judith, and strongly justifies her action. He says: “The path of history is not paved like Nevsky Prospekt; it runs across fields, either dusty or muddy, and cuts across swamps or forest thick- ets. He who fears being covered with dust or mud- dying his boots, should better not engage in social activity, for this is a noble occupation when one is really concerned with the good of the people, but it is not exactly a tidy one. It is true, however, that moral purity may be understood differently; others, for example, may feel that Judith did not tarnish herself.... Broaden your considerations and on many individual questions you will have obligations that are different from those resulting from an isolated examination of the same ques- tions.”^[27]

At the beginning of the sixties the government conceived the idea of lifting censorship restrictions to some extent. It was decided that new censorship rules should be drawn up, and the press was allowed to express itself on the question of its own repres- sion. Chernyshevsky lost no time in stating his personal views, which as usual strongly differed

from the usual liberal views. [339] True, Cherny- shevsky himself maliciously ridicules the people who suppose that the printing press has some specific power like belladonna, sulphuric acid, fulminate of silver, etc. “Our personal opinion is not inclined towards expecting unnaturally harm- ful results from objects and actions which do not possess the power to produce such calamities. We think the printing press is too weak to produce social misfortune. After all, it does not contain so much ink that the latter could come pouring out somehow and flood our country; nor has it springs that, after jumping out somehow and thumping the type, could fire it as case shot.” However, Chernyshevsky admits that there are epochs when the press can he no less dangerous than case shot to the government of a country. These are the epochs when a government’s interests differ from the interests of society and a rev- olutionary upheaval is imminent. A government in such a position has every ground for restricting the press, because the press, together with other social forces, is preparing its downfall. Almost all the successive French governments of this century have been continuously in this situation. All this is very painstakingly and calmly expounded by Chernyshevsky. Nothing is said in the article, until the very end, about the Russian Government. But in conclusion Chernyshevsky suddenly asks his reader—suppose it should turn out that the press laws are really necessary in our country? “Then we should again deserve to be called obscu- rantists, enemies of progress, haters of freedom, panegyrists of despotism, etc., just as we have already many times laid ourselves open to such censure.” He therefore does not want to investigate the question of whether there is a need for special press laws in our country. “We fear,” he says, “that a conscientious investigation would lead us to reply: yes, they are necessary.”^[29] The

conclusion is clear: they are necessary because

the time for a “leap” is also approaching in Russia.

In the same March issue of Sovremennik that printed the article we have just quoted, there appeared a polemical article entitled “Have We Learned the Lesson?”, concerning the well-known student demonstrations of 1861. In it Chernyshev- sky defends the students, who were reproached by our “guardians” for allegedly not wanting to study [340]; and, incidentally, he also tells the govern- ment many home truths. The immediate cause for this polemic was an anonymous article in the St. Petersburg Academic Bulletin entitled “To Study or Not To Study?” Chernyshevsky replies that in regard to students this question has no sense, since they have always wanted to study, but the restricting university regulations hindered them. The university regulations would have

dealt with students—people of an age when by our laws a man may marry, be taken into the civil ser- vice, or “command an army unit”—as children. It is not surprising that they protested. They were even barred from having such completely

harmless organisations as mutual aid societies, which were undoubtedly essential in view of the material insecurity of the majority of the students. Students could not but revolt against such regula- tions, because it was a question of “a crust of bread and the possibility of attending lectures. This bread, this opportunity was being withdrawn.” Chernyshevsky declared outright that the people who made the university regulations actually wanted to deprive the majority of those who entered the university of any possibility of studying. “If the author of the article and those who agree with him consider it necessary to prove that this was not the aim in view when the regulations were drawn up, let them publish the documents relating to the meetings at which the regulations were decided on.” The anonymous writer of the article “To Study or Not To Study?” directed his charge of unwillingness to study not only against the students but against the whole of Russian society. Chernyshevsky took advantage of this to carry the controversy about the unrest at the university on to a more general field. His opponent allowed that there were certain signs of the desire of Russian society to study. Proof of this, in his opinion, was the “hundreds” of new periodicals, the “dozens” of Sunday schools for adults that were appearing in our country. “Hun- dreds of new periodicals, but where did he count the hundreds?” exclaims Chernyshevsky. “And hundreds would really be necessary, but does the author want to know why hundreds of new periodicals are not being founded, as they should? It is because under the conditions of our censorship it is impossible for any lively periodical to exist anywhere, except in a few large towns. Every rich commercial town should [341] have several, even if only small, news- papers; several local news-sheets should be publi- shed in every province. They do not exist, because they are not allowed to.... Dozens of Sunday schools for adults.... Now that is no exaggeration, it is not the same as with the hundreds of new periodicals: in an empire with a population of over 60 million, the Sunday schools for adults are indeed to be counted only in dozens. Yet there should have been tens of thousands of them, and it would have been possible to establish quickly tens of thousands of them, and for at least many thousands to be now in existence. How is it that there are only dozens? Because they are so suspect, so hampered, so cir- cumscribed, that the people who are most loyal to the work of teaching in them have all desire to teach driven out of them.”

After referring to the existence of “hundreds” of new periodicals and “dozens” of Sunday schools for adults as apparent signs of the desire of society to study, the author of the article which Cherny- shevsky was analysing hastened to add that these signs were deceptive. “You hear shouting in the streets,” he proclaims mournfully, “something or other is said to have happened somewhere, and you involuntarily hang your head and are disillu- sioned....” “Excuse me, Mr. Author of the article,” objects Chernyshevsky, “what is the shouting you hear in the streets? The shouting of constables and police officers—we hear their shouting too. Are you speaking of that shouting? You are told something or other has happened somewhere... —what sort of thing, for example? There a theft has occurred,

here authority has been exceeded, there the rights of the weak have been violated, here there has been connivance with the strong—we are inces- santly being told this sort of thing. Because of this shouting which everyone hears, and this con- stant talk, one does indeed involuntarily hang one’s head and become disillusioned.”

The accuser of the students attacked them for their apparent intolerance of the opinions of others, for having recourse in their protests to whistling, pickled apples and similar “street weap- ons.” Chernyshevsky replies that “whistling and pickled apples are not used as street weapons: street weapons take the form of bayonets, rifle- butts and sabres.” He asks his opponent to recall “whether it was the students who used these street weapons against anyone, or whether they were used against the students ... and whether there was any need to use them against the students.”

It is easy to understand the impression such articles of Chernyshevsky’s were bound to make on the Russian students. When [342], subsequently, student demonstrations occurred again at the end of the sixties, the article “Have We Learned the Lesson?” was read at student gatherings as being

the best defence of their demands. It is also easy to understand what the attitude of the “guardians” must have been to such defiant articles. The great writer’s “dangerous” influence on the student youth became more and more obvious to them.

We know already how that influence was removed.

Holding a utopian socialist point of view, Chernyshevsky believed that the plans which those of like mind in the West sought to realise could be carried out under the most varied political forms. That’s how it was according to theory. And as long as he did not step out of this sphere, he expressed this view without mincing words. When he started on his literary career, our social life seemed to furnish some confirmation, if only indirect, of the correctness of this view; hope arose among the advanced men of the day that the government would take the initiative in reaching a just solution of the peasant question. It was a vain hope, which Chernyshevsky abandoned almost before anyone else. And while in theory he did not, even afterwards, clearly see the connection between economics and politics, in his practical activity—and by this we mean his journal- istic efforts—he was an uncompromising enemy of our old order, although his peculiar irony con- tinued to mislead many liberal-minded readers

on that score. In deeds, if not in theory, he became a man of irreconcilable political struggle and the thirst for struggle is felt in almost every line of each of his articles relating to the year 1861 and, in particular, to the year 1862, a fateful one for him.