Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History

Since the beginning of perestroika, the search for a usable past and a new identity has been a central problem of Russian intellectual discourse. This search has from its beginning been connected with the concept of alternatives in 20th- century Russian history. First there was Gorbachev's vision of stripping an original Leninism of its later ideological distortions. Then, in 1989–91, Bukharinism was the fashion, and Stephen F. Cohen's seminal study of Bukharin was translated and published in Moscow. Soon after it came out, however, interest in Bukharin was supplanted by interest in Trotsky, whose works were reissued hot on the heels of those of his former ideological opponent. But even Trotsky could not hold the limelight very long. The purely Bolshevik discourse was soon abandoned in favor of a discussion of the entire spectrum of potential political alternatives in the early 20th century, from Stolypin's reforms to the Constituent Assembly through to the Kronstadt Rebellion. Originally led by journalists and dilettantes (and still, to a great degree, under their influence), the quest for viable alternatives resulted more often than not in superficial treatments of events and even entire periods of Russian history. Only recently have professional historians, now freed of ideological fetters and enjoying access to what were in most cases previously restricted materials, moved into these areas with vigor.

The revolution and the civil war that followed qualify as the most politically volatile of historical subjects in modern Russian memory. The very fact that the terms "Red" and "White" are still regularly employed to describe segments of the contemporary Russian population (particularly in regard to numerous attempts at instituting a "civil peace") underscores the civil war's continuing legacy. In such an atmosphere, it is to be expected that authors' experience of the real world they live in will, to an even greater extent than usual, shape their historical treatments of the 1917–22 period.

The authors of the historiographical work under review fully appreciate this complicating aspect of their study. Indeed, they devote much attention to identifying ideologically neutral approaches to the study of the civil war, and even seek to find an ideologically neutral terminology. Try as they might, however, this idealized neutrality is impossible, as the text itself bears out. Previously, for example, two terms describing the same events in August–September 1917 – "Kornilovskii miatezh" for some, "Kornilovskoe vystuplenie" for others – held dramatically [End Page 423] different meanings and connotations with regard to the ideological positions of their users. For the authors of this book, however, the two terms simply seem interchangeable (56–57).

Nevertheless, the fact that the authors have identified this problem and have made some attempt to address it is in itself significant. Their approach, that of a historiographical overview, is also welcome. The initial section covering classical Soviet and Western works will probably be of least interest to the Western reader. There are notable lacunae in the discussion of Western literature. For instance, there is no mention of William Rosenberg's classic The Liberals in the Russian Revolution.¹ Vague blanket references to the conclusions of "Western historians," the only one of whom cited is Richard Luckett, only underscore this shortcoming. Another section on the literature of the Russian emigration, taking up fully a third of the volume, is a slightly reorganized and abbreviated reprint of A. I. Ushakov's earlier monograph on the subject.²

Blanket formulations about Western historians are not the only area in the text where one feels the continued presence of the old Soviet mentalité. This reviewer can recall the roundtable on the civil war held at the Russian Academy of Science's Institute of Russian History in the spring of 1992. The sight of dons of the historical profession attempting to impose their views upon one another with more than a hint of exasperation and less than absolute civility is not one soon to be forgotten.³ One particularly unfortunate victim was a schoolteacher from Tver' who sought to date the beginning of the civil war to the Bolshevik coup. The purpose of this suggestion was not merely, as some would have it, to locate a guilty party on whom the war could be blamed. Indeed, our entire understanding of the origins and nature of civil wars hinges upon this question. In order to explain when a civil war begins, we must first define what it is we mean by "civil war." It is for this reason that historians have identified the civil war's date of origin as anywhere from the summer of 1917 to the summer of 1918. While insisting on attention to the issue of periodization, the present [End Page 424] volume – without adequate argumentation and even less indication of the significance and meaning of its choice – dates the beginning of the civil war to the Kornilov affair. How should one then qualify the period from September to November 1917, the period of formation for the Volunteer Army? As a "Cold (Civil) War?"

Similarly, the very first page of text identifies the philosopher Ivan Il'in as an "ideologue of the White movement" (7). This is an unexpected choice, given the fact that Il'in spent the entire civil war in Moscow, then was deported to Europe in 1922 and only thereafter associated himself actively with the leaders of the Whites. If this means that the chronological framework of the movement must be extended beyond the evacuation of the White armies from Russian territory, then surely the authors should make this point clear.

What all this indicates is that the book in question is as much a child of its time as the other works it analyzes within its covers. It rightly decries others for identifying themselves too closely with the objects of their study (Red or White). Yet, as the examples above illustrate, one must be extraordinarily conscientious when working on this topic to choose words and dates that avoid any sort of ideological brand – if that is at all possible.

The most valuable service which this book performs is to acquaint readers with the current state of Russian scholarship on the civil war. Unfortunately, the authors, through a false sense of modesty, avoid mentioning in any detail their own contributions to the subject (this is particularly the case for Ushakov). However, the balanced, critical analysis they bring to bear on the works they do examine is most welcome. At first the discussion leaves the reader with a positive view of the development of scholarship in this area. However, a closer examination of the footnotes reveals that many of the "studies" to which the book refers turn out to be four-page abstracts, leaving one to wonder about the real state of sustained and thorough research in Russia today. The authors conclude the book with a research agenda for the future. In addition to insisting on the need for a more accurate periodization of the civil war, they point to the necessity of studying the social base and ideology of the White movement, its leading personalities and their interrelationships, and White attitudes toward the national question and the state (gosudarstvennost'). Investigation of these and other factors will shed new light on the defeat of the White alternative to Bolshevism. With this in mind, they advocate local and regional studies as the most hopeful direction for future work.

One closes this book with the feeling that we still know the Whites only as caricatures, cardboard figures and straw men set up so as to be knocked down. Eighty-three years after the revolution we have a fairly good idea of who the Reds were. Do we have an equal sense of who the Whites were? No. Rather, we tend to affix labels to them that hide more than they explain, and mask our inability [End Page 425] to grapple with them. Too frequently, we conclude analyses of their struggle with textbook phrases about how they were simply fated to lose.

As the appearance of this book shows, however, the White movement demands the attention of historians now more than ever. It is impossible to understand the current national discourse in Russia without reference to the White movement and its leaders, as well as émigré politicians and thinkers. In September 1998, upon his appointment as Prime Minister, Evgenii Primakov stated that the goal of his policy was a "great, united Russia." Communist leader Gennadii Ziuganov has expressed on more than one occasion his "deep respect" for the White leaders. If the civil war in general, and the White movement in particular, are popular with Russian historians, this is at least partly due to the fact that the present political debate in Russia continues to derive inspiration from that period. All the more reason for historians to take a fresh look at those who, it seemed not so long ago, had exited the stage of history for all time.