‘RUSSIA BEFORE AND AFTER THE WAR.’¹

THIS is a curious work, published under false pretences. The English translator and most of the reviewers lay great stress upon the importance attaching to it, because ‘the author of this book deals with the subject as a Russian,’ and his opinions are on that account said to have ‘a representative value of their own. Now Dr. Julius Eckhardt, the author of the work in question, is not a Russian. His very name indicates that so clearly that that may perhaps be the reason why it has not been affixed to the work.

An Irish emigrant (editing an anti-English newspaper) in New York or Chicago would have as much right to call himself an Englishman as this German of the Baltic provinces, who is now editing an anti-Russian paper at Berlin, has to call himself a Russian. The views of such an Irishman might be as amusing and witty as those of his countrymen in the charming pages of Charles Lever, but they could hardly be accepted by foreigners as those of an Englishman, possessing, by virtue of his English nationality, ‘a representative value of their own.’ Dr. Eckhardt’s views are not Russian, neither are they amusing or witty; his jokes remind one of the dance of an elephant, they are far-fetched and heavy. His descriptions are often inaccurate and grossly exaggerated, in bad taste and bad faith.

In one sense, the sense of a passport, he may be regarded as Russian—he is one of the many trophies of our conquests, with which we could well afford to dispense. He owes the honour of being styled a Russian subject to Peter the Great, who at the Peace of Nystadt annexed the future birth-place of the author of this book to the Russian Empire; but although he is, or was, a Russian subject, he has never been a Russian. He belongs to Russia, but Russia certainly does not belong to him. He is an alien in race, in religion, in sympathy, and if it is difficult for foreigners to form an impartial estimate of other countries, it is much more difficult for one who, although a subject, is bitterly hostile to the development of the nationality which gives its name to the State.

A true Russian is one who is devoted to his country, who suffers keenly at the thought of her shortcomings, and who joyfully sacrifices himself for her welfare; who appreciates the national character and sympathises with the national aspirations. It is absurd to give the name of Russian to a man merely because he was born within the Russian Empire, knows something of the Russian language, and had written down the back-stairs gossip of the capital about eminent personages in the State. Such a man is the author of ‘Russia Before and After the War,’ and whatever may be the charm of his book to Russophobist readers, as a representation of Russian views it is perfectly worthless.

This German author describes us from the outside, not from within. He lacks that sympathy which is the only key to understanding, and his book is vitiated throughout by his utter incapacity to understand Russian character, Russian enthusiasm, or Russian loyalty. Like a blind man painting, he produces not an intelligible picture, but a confused and confusing mingling of colours, as hideous as unintelligible. Russians may be excused if they do not recognise themselves in his pictures; but does any human being recognise in his descriptions of Russians any resemblance to rational beings? He multiplies details—only partly accurate—until they entirely conceal the object which they ought to illustrate: ‘You cannot see the forest for the trees.’ Who, for instance, could gather from his laborious description of the shortcomings of the Russian military administration, and the mistakes of our civil governors of Bulgaria, the central fact of our recent action in the East—the liberation of the whole of the northern provinces of the Ottoman Empire, and the infliction of a death-blow upon the power of Islam? Who could imagine from his narrative of the disputes of parties before the war, that in 1876 and 1879 a great wave of enthusiasm passed over our nation, and that Russia had experienced, as Lowell nobly phrases it—

That leap of heart, whereby a people rise

Up to a noble anger’s height,

And flamed on by the Fates, shrink not, but grow more bright?

It is so, all through. Dr. Eckhardt has no sense of proportion, and no grasp of the central principle required to reduce Chaos into Cosmos, consequently he perplexes, he does not instruct; he either ignores altogether the key of the position, or he merely mentions it among a multitude of other unimportant incidental matters. If he were an astronomer, he would be quite capable of giving all manner of details about the planets, and of forgetting to mention the existence of the sun. A heap of bricks is not a house, nor a milliard of words a poem; and an accumulation of details, without subordination or arrangement, constitutes no picture of Russia, either before or after the war.

He leaves upon the mind a painful sense of bewilderment, and an uneasy consciousness that poor Russians are in a bad way. He describes Russia’s development without the genius but with the same utter absence of sympathy with which Mr. Carlyle described the triumph of Liberal legislation during the last thirty or forty years in England. Mr. Carlyle, in his ‘Shooting Niagara,’ summed up the boasted progress of England in the following sarcastic sentence, which conveys to Russians almost as good an idea of the nature and object of English legislation during this century, as Dr. Eckhardt’s confusing account of Russian legislation in Poland and elsewhere.

All the Millenniums I ever heard of, heretofore, were to be preceded by a ‘chaining of the devil for a thousand years.’ You, too, have been taking preliminary steps with more and more ardour for thirty years back, but they seem to be all in an opposite direction. A cutting asunder of straps and ties, with loud shouting from the multitude, as strap after strap was cut. ‘Glory, glory, another strap is gone!’ This, I think, has mainly been the sublime legislative industry of Parliament since it became ‘Reform Parliament,’ so that now hardly any limb of the devil has a thrum or tatter of rope or leather left upon it.

English Liberals disclaim Mr. Carlyle’s description, but not more heartily than Russian Nationalists, the account given of their objects and achievements in ‘Russia Before and After the War.’

Sometimes he is not only inaccurate, but also inconsistent. For instance, he admits, quite correctly (p. 120), that the fanatical irreligion of Bakunin ‘broke down for ever all hopes of an alliance—and of the only possible alliance—between the mass of the Russian people and the revolutionary agitators of their country.’ But at the end of his book, in order to justify his alarming predictions of approaching revolutions, he says—‘the masses pour into whatever channel is prepared for them’ (p. 430). Russian peasants are not quite so mobile as he would make out, and ‘fickleness and irresolution’ are so far from being the predominant characteristics of the masses, that they never wavered in their devotion to the great cause in spite of all the sacrifices of the war; and the patient persistence and unwavering tenacity of purpose of the common Russian have become proverbial. As Daniel Manin once said, ‘There is no obstacle too great for Russian enterprise, no distance too remote for Russian patience.’ As for his assertion that the mass of the Russian people are ready for a revolutionary outburst, I, whose views are at least those of a genuine Russian, believe him to be entirely mistaken.

But apart from these questions of inaccuracy and inconsistency, the book, although mischievously misleading and bewildering, does at least enable the attentive reader to ascertain some facts which are too often forgotten in England.

The Russophobist press proclaims it to be ‘one of the most valuable works ever published.’ I wish they would note one or two facts which it contains, and which they persistently ignore. The evidence of a hostile witness is valuable indeed, and of the hostility of the author of ‘Russia Before and After the War,’ no one can in any way doubt who has read the book. But hostile though he is, his testimony is clear and conclusive as to the falsity of the charge persistently brought against the Russian Government as to the origin of the war. It is accused of having intrigued to bring the war about, to have organised the Bulgarian atrocities in order ‘to create a pretext,’ à la Lord Salisbury, for invading the territory of its unoffending neighbour, and to have forced on the war for purposes of plundering. These assertions, transparently false as they must appear to everyone who knows anything of the facts, are clearly disproved by Dr. Eckhardt. He says with perfect truth: ‘The declaration of war against Turkey in April 1877 was the act, not of the Government of St. Petersburg, but of the Russian people’ (p. 297). Again he says: ‘The war was the work of the national party and the Socialistic revolutionists.² It was delayed for nearly a year by the Government and its immediate adherents. The Court and higher bureaucracy were against the war from the beginning’ (p. 299). Again: ‘Those who were behind the scenes knew well enough that the Emperor himself had not wished for war. His most experienced advisers had shared the Czar’s disinclination to embark in this adventure. As to the motives with which the national party made the war, Dr. Eckhardt misrepresents the facts; but at present it is sufficient to point out that he bears out to the full the accuracy of the statement so persistently denied by the Russophobists, that the war took its rise in a spontaneous popular movement, and that it was forced by the nation upon an unwilling and pacific Government.

The second point which the author makes plain is the absurdity of those who, determined to discredit Russia, now seek to minimise the incalculable benefits conferred upon humanity by the emancipation of the serfs. Only the other day Mr. J. Cowen³ declared the advantages of emancipation had been more apparent than real, because the Russian freemen pay heavier taxes than did Russian serfs. In order to discredit Russians, Dr. Eckhardt tells the story of the oppression practised by Major-General Ismayloff, the Russian Legree fifty years ago. The state of things which prevailed on the estate of that madman was exceptional in the extreme; but even such exceptions are horrible enough to make the Act which renders their repetition impossible infinitely more important than a mere transfer of charges from landlord to Government.

A third point which may be easily overlooked is conclusively demonstrated in this book, although, as is not unusual with him, the author ignores it more than once; that is, that the Nihilists, the assassinating revolutionists of Russia, whatever may be their destructive activity, form a very small party, utterly opposed to the popular convictions on almost every point, and therefore, we firmly believe, in spite of all, doomed to political impotence. Even as portrayed by Dr. Eckhardt, they are totally lacking in the moral and mental qualities indispensable to those who would achieve a great work of national reform. They have never been able to thrill the national heart or to fire the popular imagination; they are as much out of sympathy with the nation as with the Government. Even A. Herzen, an amiable enthusiast and idealist, as far as possible removed from the Nihilists, supported the unwarrantable claim of the Poles to our north-western provinces. Bakunin urged the Western Powers to invade his own country, and prepared himself to take part in a descent upon Russia. Beside Bakunin Mazzini was a Conservative, and Karl Marx an upholder of law and social order. Between the atheistic anarchists of the Nihilist conspiracy and the submissive and religious masses of the people yawns a great gulf, across which not even the bridge of Al Sirât has yet been thrown.

Another matter of great importance, which even Dr. Eckhardt cannot ignore, may be learned from his book; that is, that the Russian nation has now a vigorous, a self-conscious and independent existence. As Dr. Eckhardt himself says: ‘The new-born energies of Russian nationality have been roused by the abolition of serfdom.’ It is no longer possible to speak of Russia as merely a ‘devouring political mechanism’ without betraying the grossest ignorance. Even this book bears witness to the working of a steady national opinion by no means always in agreement with the bureaucrats of St. Petersburg. The outburst of patriotic indignation at the insolent demand of the Poles for the surrender of Western Russia took even the Government by surprise. The national feeling was also strongly manifested in the conflict which ended in the emancipation of the serfs, more particularly in relation to their settlement as owners on their own land—a most beneficent measure, solving the problem of the proletariat in a way which may some day be a factor of the first importance in continental politics. Cavour justly remarked: ‘The equal rights which every Russian peasant has in the soil are more dangerous to us Westerns than all her armies.’

The outburst of enthusiasm which was the real cause of the recent war was, as Dr. Eckhardt admits, frowned on by the Government, but in the end it overcame all obstacles, and secured the liberation of Bulgaria. The criticisms of the shortcomings of the administration, during the war, have been so outspoken, and sometimes even so fierce, as to lead the author to imagine, quite absurdly, that Russia is on the verge of a revolution. Nations do not make revolutions merely to punish army contractors or blundering officials.

It is noteworthy that in all these cases, not St. Petersburg, but Moscow, led the public opinion of Russia, and that the true exponents of the national convictions have been Mr. Katkoff and Mr. Aksakoff, and not the Nihilists, nor even the Germans of the Baltic provinces. There is dissatisfaction in Russia as in other countries, not excepting England, but to say that Russians generally approve, even tacitly, of the horrible crimes of the Nihilists, is perfectly preposterous. Russian good-nature is sometimes carried to foolish extremes, and mistaken mercy occasionally saves offenders whom it would be more just to punish. But in these manifestations of our national soft-heartedness there is no complicity, even in sentiment, with the men who are making war upon society by assassination and incendiarism.

The Russian Government is denounced by men like Dr. Eckhardt, on the very grounds on which Russians support it. Russia is democratic, fraternal, and orthodox. The Government, recognising and acting upon these principles, benefits the million, but offends the handful of aristocratic feudalists, who, whether Lutherans or Roman, in the Baltic provinces or in Poland, regard recent Russian legislation very much as Orange landlords contemplate the agrarian proposals of Mr. Parnell. But laws which benefit the immense majority, even at the expense of the more loudly vocal few, may result in literary clamour, but not in revolutions.

There are abuses and mistakes in our administration—we admit with sorrow, but not with despair. Things are not so bad as Dr. Eckhardt paints them, and there are many redeeming features, ignored by him, which encourage us to labour with cheerful confidence in the future. The good sense and capacity of the communal organisations, that germ of all governments, prove that Russia is not devoid of self-governing capacity. The heroism and self-sacrifice, the patient endurance and indomitable valour of our troops, renew our faith in the destinies of our country. Education is making progress, and it is evident that, as Mr. Aksakoff declared, the abolition of serfdom, and of many legal class distinctions, have caused the intellectual horizon of our people to expand. In fact, these painful revelations of our shortcomings are causes, not for despair, but for hope. The light has been turned with unflinching hand upon the darkest places of our administrative system, and the light which reveals the evil will lead to its removal.

The establishment of the liberty of the press, the abolition of the absurd system of the censure—which, by encouraging literary smuggling, aggravates the mischief it was established to prevent—is one of the reforms which Russia awaits from the hands of her Emperor. As a complement to that reform, the restoration of the Zemskie Sobory (or National Assembly) would enable the Emperor to grapple with many abuses which now baffle his utmost efforts to remove. In one respect Russia has an advantage over some of her continental neighbours. The central power is strong and undisputed. There are no rivals to our Emperor. From Lapland to the Amour his word is recognised as supreme, and he is the incarnation of the principle of authority. Space does not permit a detailed examination of all the scandals and mistakes of this misleading volume. If a sketch of morals and manners of England were to be compiled from your Society journals, if Protectionists were set to write a history of the Repeal of the Corn Laws, and the editor of the ‘Pall Mall Gazette’ were to write the biography of Mr. Gladstone, the result might be amusing, but it would not convey to the inquiring Russian much more accurate views of England and the policy of the Liberal party than are provided for Englishmen in Dr. Eckhardt’s sketches of ‘Russia Before and After the War.’

But there is one point which is so mischievous and so false that before concluding I must allude to it:—the impression is left upon the mind of the reader that the national party desired to annex the Balkans to Russia. But as Dr. Eckhardt can produce no proof of this, he unceremoniously confines himself to persistent insinuations. The object of the national party was not the annexation of the Balkan Peninsula, but its liberation. They objected to the Treaty of San Stefano because it left that liberation incomplete. They objected still more to the Treaty of Berlin because that incomplete liberation was rendered still less so. It was not because it did not make annexations—the annexations of San Stefano were almost entirely ratified at Berlin. It was the best instincts, the most unselfish aspirations of the Russian race that were thwarted at the Congress. The Treaty of San Stefano was considered in Russia ‘a humble half-measure,’ because it left so many Christians still subject to the Turk.

Mr. Aksakoff, who is recognised as the best authority by Dr. Eckhardt, accurately stated the views of Russia when he wrote: ‘The East of Europe belongs to Oriental Europeans, the Slav countries belong to the Slavs. It is not a question of territorial conquests for Russia; it is a question of calling to an independent existence (political or social) all these different Slav groups which people the Balkan Peninsula.’

It is absolutely false to assert of the national party, as the ‘Pall Mall Gazette’ did, in professing to give an account of the contents of this work, that ‘their sole aim was to annex as much of Turkey as could be conquered, and to prepare the way for the seizure of all the territories of the Sultan.’ To bear false witness against one’s neighbour is a sin in individuals, but it seems to be accounted patriotism in nations. The stories which Dr. Eckhardt tells of Prince Tcherkasky in Bulgaria rest upon the unsupported testimony of Mr. E. Utine, a Jew, and a bitter enemy of the Slavs. It is impossible to believe that Prince Tcherkasky could ever have told the Bulgarians that ‘Bulgaria had no National Assembly, and would not obtain any.’ Even if he had done so, he did not express the views of Russia, for the Treaty of San Stefano expressly stipulates for the independence of Bulgaria, and the summoning of the National Assembly. As for the ill-treatment of the Bulgarians by the Russians, Mr. Utine’s evidence is directly opposed to that of Sir Henry Havelock, who said, ‘In the dealings of the Russians with the Bulgarians, he had remarked at all times the greatest gentleness and abstinence from violence. He not only saw them in large masses, but in distant villages, at the roadside, where soldiers were under no control, and the presence of a stranger like himself would have no effect on their action. Their conduct was the most admirable he had ever seen in his life.’ Sir Henry Havelock’s testimony is corroborated by that of the Bulgarians, who not only have made no complaint, but have overwhelmed us with demonstrations of gratitude. Bulgaria is free, thanks to Russia, but not so free as she would have been under the Treaty of San Stefano, thanks to England; and in face of that great fact, this petty carping at the indiscretions of an individual is unworthy of attention.

Dr. Eckhardt concludes by a significant hint to English electors to renew Lord Beaconsfield’s lease of power. If there is to be war between the two empires, in spite of all our efforts to avert it, I am on this point for once, almost for the first time, in cordial agreement with Dr. Eckhardt. If we were to fight, we can wish for nothing better for Russia than that England’s destinies should be in the hands of the statesman who has been styled in Russia ‘the avenging angel of the Slavonic world.’ If, however, the English people desire to revert to the true traditional policy of their country, and enter into a cordial alliance with Russia, the advice of Dr. Eckhardt will hardly secure Lord Beaconsfield a majority at the coming election.

O.K.

February 1880.

1. Russia Before and After the War. By the Author of Society in St. Petersburg, &c. Translated from the German (with later additions by the Author). By Edward Fairfax Taylor. London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1880.
2. On this particular point Dr. Eckhardt is quite wrong: the “Socialistic revolutionists” are too small a body to have had any influence over our national policy.
3. See a pamphlet entitled Mr. Соwen—Apostle or Apostate, published by C. Infield.