Chapter 34

CONCLUSION

It is as difficult to pick out the most characteristic traits of the innumerable Russian sects as it is to describe the contours of clouds that fleet across the sky. Their numbers escape all official reckoning and the variety of their beliefs renders classification very difficult. In these pages the sectarian organism has been presented in its most recent and most picturesque aspects, and its chief characteristic seems to be that it develops by a process of subdivision. Each existing sect divides itself up into various new ones, and these again reproduce themselves by breaking apart, like the first organisms in which life was manifested on the earth. Every separated portion of the parent becomes an offspring resembling the parent, and the number of divisions increases in proportion to the number of adherents. As in the protozoa, multiplication commences with a mechanical rupture, and with the passage of time and the influence of outside elements, the sects thus born undergo visible modifications. By turns sublime or outrageous, simple or depraved, they either aspire heavenwards or debase the human spirit to the level of its lowest passions.

Making common use of the truths of the Gospel revelations, they include every phase of modern social life in their desire for perfection. Liberty, equality, wealth, property, marriage, taxes, the relation between the State and the individual, international peace, and the abolition of arms--all these things, even down to the very food we eat, become the prey of their reformatory ardour.

The sects that abound in Anglo-Saxon countries do little but copy one another in evolving new and amazing variations of Bible interpretation. Confined within these limits, they rarely even touch upon the serious problems that lie outside the text of the Gospels, and we might say of them as Swift said of the religious sects of his day--"They are only the same garments more or less embroidered."

But the Russian sects vividly reveal to us the secret dreams and aspirations of millions of simple and honest men, who have not yet been infected by the doctrinal diseases of false science or confused philosophy; and further, they permit us to study the manifestation in human life of some new and disquieting conceptions. In their depths we may see reflected the melancholy grandeur and goodness of the national soul, its sublime piety, and its thirst for ideal perfection, which sometimes uplifts the humble in spirit to the dignity and self-abnegnation of a Francis of Assisi.

The mysticism which is so deep-rooted in the Russian national consciousness breaks out in many different forms. Not only poets and writers, painters and musicians, philosophers and moralists, but statesmen, socialists and anarchists are all impregnated with it--and even financiers and economic reformers.

Tolstoi, when he became a sociologist and moralist, was an eloquent example of the mental influence of environment; for his teachings which so delighted--or scandalised, as the case might be--the world, were merely the expression of the dreams of his fellow-countrymen. So was it also with the lofty thoughts of the philosopher Soloviev, the _macabre_ tales of Dostoievsky, the realistic narratives of Gogol, or the popular epics of Gorky and Ouspensky.

The doctrines of Marx took some strange shapes in the Russian _milieu_. Eminently materialistic, they were there reclothed in an abstract and dogmatic idealism--in fact, Marxism in Russia was transformed into a religion. The highly contestable laws of material economics, which usually reduce the chief preoccupations of life to a miserable question of wages or an abominable class-war, there gained the status of a veritable Messianic campaign, and the triumphant revolution, imbued with these dogmas, strove to bring the German paradox to an end, even against the sacred interests of patriotism. The falling away of the working-classes and of the soldiers, which so disconcerted the world, was really nothing but the outer effect of their inner aspirations. Having filled out the hollow Marxian phraseology with the mystic idealism of their own dreams, having glimpsed the sublime brotherhood which would arise out of the destruction of the inequality of wages and incomes, they quite logically scorned to take further part in the struggle of the nations for independence. Of what import to them was the question of Teutonic domination, or the political future of other races?

It is much the same with the peasant class. The partition of the land is their most sacred dogma, and they can scarcely imagine salvation without it. This materialistic demand, embellished by the dream of social equality, has become a religion. Mysticism throws round it an aureole of divine justice, and the difficulty--or the impossibility--of such a gigantic spoliation of individuals for the sake of a vague ideal, has no power to deter them.

The land--so they argue--belongs to the Lord, and the unequal way in which it is divided up cannot be according to His desire. The kingdom of heaven cannot descend upon earth until the latter is divided among her children, the labourers.

The far-off hope of victory faded before these more immediate dreams, and the continuation of a war which seemed to involve their postponement became hateful to the dreamers; while the emissaries of Germany took advantage of this state of affairs to create an almost impassable gap between the few who were clear-sighted and the mass who were blinded by visions.

The extreme rebelliousness which characterises the Russian religious visionaries is manifested to an almost equal extent by all political parties and their leaders. Consequently the spirit of unity which prevailed (during the war) in other countries met with insuperable difficulties in Russia.

The whole nation seems to have been driven, by the long suppression of free thought and belief, added to the miseries brought about by the old regime, to take refuge in unrealities, and this has resulted in a kind of deformity of the national soul. It was a strange irony that even the aristocracy should end by falling victim to its own environment. Exploited by miracle-mongers, thrown off its balance by paroxysms of so-called mysticism, it disappeared from view in a welter of practices and beliefs that were perverse and childish even at their best.

TRANSLATOR'S NOTE

It seems appropriate to call attention here to an article from the pen of Prince Eugene Troubetzkoy, Professor of Law at the University of Moscow, which appeared in the _Hibbert Journal_ for January, 1920. Writing apparently in the autumn of 1919, the Prince declared that the civil war then in progress in Russia was "accompanied by a spiritual conflict no less determined and portentous," and pointed out that the doctrine of Bolshevism was a deliberate distortion of Marxism, _immediate revolution_ having been substituted by the Bolshevists for the _evolution_ preached by Marx. He went on to say that one of the most striking characteristics of Bolshevism was its pronounced hatred of religion, and especially of Christianity, the ideal of a life beyond death being "diametrically opposed to the ideal of Bolshevism, which tempts the masses by promising _the immediate realisation of the earthly paradise_." And, Bolshevism's practical method for realising its Utopia being "the armed conflict of classes . . . the dream of the earthly paradise, to be brought into being through civil war, becomes instantly the reality of hell let loose." After dwelling in detail on various aspects of the situation, the writer makes some statements which will be of special interest to readers of M. Finot's study of pre-war religious conditions in Russia. He speaks of the growth of unbelief among the masses, and declares that "the empty triumph of Bolshevism would have been impossible but for the utter enfeeblement of the religious life of the nation"; but--and this is the point of interest--"thanks to the persecutions which the revolution has set on foot, there has come into being a genuine religious revival. . . . The Church, pillaged and persecuted, lost all the material advantages it had hitherto enjoyed: in return, the loss of all these relative values was made good by the absolute value of spiritual independence. . . . This it is that explains the growing influence of the Church on the masses of the people: the blood of the new martyrs won their hearts. . . . These awful sufferings are becoming a source of new power to religion in Russia." The Prince then describes the complete reorganisation of the church which was carried through at Moscow in 1917-18, and the restoration of the patriarchal power in the person of the Archbishop Tykone (now Patriarch), a man of great personal courage, high spirituality, and remarkable sweetness of disposition. The people rallied round him in enormous numbers, attracted by his courageous resistance to the Bolshevist movement--(a resistance which had then frequently endangered his life, and may since have ended it)--and by his determined avoidance of all pomp and ostentation. In the great religious processions which took place at that time, hundreds of thousands passed before him, but he had no bishops and very few clergy in his retinue, only one priest and one deacon. When urged to adopt more ceremony and display in his public appearances, he replied, "For the love of God, don't make an idol of me." He was always ready with a humorous word, and filled with a serene and unshakable confidence, even in the most dangerous situations. The people looked upon him as "Holy Russia" personified, and said that "the persecutors who would have buried her for ever had brought her back to life."

In an appendix to the above-quoted article appears a statement "from a responsible British source in Siberia" to the effect that "a strong religious movement has begun among the laity and clergy of the Russian Church. . . . The _moujiks_ are convinced that Lenin is Anti-Christ;" and an urgent appeal for Russian Testaments and Bibles to be sent from England, the writer having been told by a prominent ecclesiastic that "Russian Bibles are now almost unprocurable."

Thus, having long revolted from orthodoxy in the day of its material prosperity, the masses seem, in the day of adversity, to be returning to it. Further developments may, of course, take place in almost any direction, but we may rest assured of one thing--that no changes of government, however drastic, will ever succeed in stamping out the mystical religious strain which is so deeply embedded in the soul of the Russian people.