K.P. Pobedonostsev and his correspondents. T. 1

The writer of these lines did not take any part in the selection of documents included in this collection or in their editing. For the first time he saw the collection typed, laid out and ⅔ printed. He must therefore resolutely decline the honor of being its editor. The following are notes from the first reader of this book. He can tell subsequent readers that this is a book of exceptional interest and significance. Based on the collection, it would be possible to write another volume about Russia during the time of Alexander III. The point here is not even in Pobedonostsev himself and what he wrote - although there are very colorful examples of this, not colorless, pen. Take, for example, the letter dated March 30 (old style), 1881, where the newest Polonius pours out all his “horror” to the new tsar at the thought that Perovskaya and Zhelyabov could be pardoned. The point, of course, is not that Pobedonostsev had a voluptuous desire for the gallows. The letter was undoubtedly a trial balloon. Alexander III still hung in the space between the “constitution” - actually signed by his father - and autocracy in the old forms. He was pulled towards the first by the ministers of Alexander II, with Loris at their head - he broke with them only after April 21, Art. Art. Towards the second - Pobedonostsev and the camarilla that began to group around him. A pardon would be a symbol of the triumph of the first group: entering the “constitutional era” before five gallows would have been completely strange. The merciless execution of the sentence ensured that there would be no concessions at all. It's a bad start. It was necessary to probe the mood of the wavering king - and by the way, press on him at the most sensitive point. Both succeeded brilliantly. “I guarantee that all six will be hanged,” Alexander Alexandrovich wrote in Pobedonostsev’s letter. But it is more convenient to study Pobedonostsev’s “court diplomacy” in the general connection of his correspondence with Alexander III. This collection provides both less and more than what is needed for this specific purpose. It does not contain all of Pobedonostsev’s letters to Alexander III; we cannot judge whether all of the latter’s letters are included. The Central Archive publishes the letters of the former in full, and a student of this aspect of the matter will have to tinker with two books. This is a great pity, of course, and can serve as an illustration of what incomplete centralization of archives leads to: if we still had departmental archives, there would be no end to such parallelisms. But this collection has no other parallel. With the accession of Alexander III to the throne, the chief prosecutor of the synod became the center where all kinds of petitions, projects, notes and simply information messages flowed. In this collection, K. P. Pobedonostsev’s correspondents are undoubtedly more interesting than himself. Who is not here, not counting the king himself! And the liberal censor Yakov Polonsky, naively wondering what harm could come from the newspaper “Order”, when, according to his censorship duties, he reads republican and even socialist organs in heaps, but “has not become either a democrat or a socialist” - and the extremely conservative Abbess Maria, indignant at the permission of opera performances during Lent and expecting all sorts of troubles from it; and the unknown secretary of the world congress, who wrote the draft university charter, and the well-known former hero of “Vesta” and the future - of the Nizhny Novgorod fair, sailor on land H. M. Baranov: and then there was the informer on Baranov himself. All the ministers, starting with the “prime ministers”, Loris, Ignatiev and Tolstoy (the letters of the latter are historically very important), and ending with the “third subjects”, like Nicholas, who unexpectedly turned out to be an honest person, which put Alexander III and his chief adviser in considerable difficulty, or the ill-fated Makov, who also unexpectedly turned out to be not entirely honest. Less often than one might expect, Katkov appears on the horizon - in the plane of personal relationships, he is more of a rival than an employee of Pobedonostsev; he would also like to teach, but his lessons were less accepted by Alexander III. Leo Tolstoy and Vladimir Solovyov appear quite sporadically - but what is most surprising is that Pobedonostsev’s rather stable correspondent turns out to be such a pillar of liberalism as B.N. Chicherin. Chicherin’s letters and notes, which occupy one and a half printed pages in the collection (pp. 104–128), are undoubtedly the most interesting “number” of the entire collection, after Pobedonostsev’s correspondence with Alexander III - and this interest is not weakened by the fact that the “nail” of this part of the collection, Chicherin’s “note” dated March 10, has long been known in its most essential aspects. But it was not known that the note was intended for Alexander III; that she went through such a specific person as K. P. Pobedonostsev; that due to the characteristics of the addressee and the transferring authority, it was “slightly revised, however, more in terms than in terms of meaning” (Chicherin’s letter dated March 11). The main “icon” of the right wing of our later cadets - up to and including P.I. Novgorodtsev - was forced to greatly popularize his thoughts in order to make them understandable for the new tsar. The effect was great. First of all, it turned out that in Russia during this prosperous reign “a wide scope was open for all activities, and the existing constraints have no more meaning for Russia than pin pricks on the skin of a whale. Of course, the government was forced to take emergency measures, to temporarily eliminate guarantees of personal freedom, but was this not caused by the state of affairs, by terror emanating not from the government, but from the depths of society itself? To blame the reaction that has taken place in the government on the blame of public unrest, to attribute the existing discord in society to one or another ministerial circular, to the supposed despotism of governors, to the warnings given to magazines, or even to the existence of the poll tax and the passport system, is to indulge in trifles. Anyone who is content with such explanations can talk about politics just as little as he can talk about flowers with a blind man.” So, the “causes of evil” are by no means in the obsolescence of the Russian political elite in 1881. Quite the contrary: they, these reasons, lie “in the speed with which the transformations took place in it (Russia”). Progress is too fast, that's the thing. It goes without saying that “healing” should consist, first of all, in slowing down this too rapid movement. Hence, “the cure does not lie in the freedom of the press now celebrated. Our own twenty-five years of experience, which confirms the long-standing experience of other peoples, could cure us of this prejudice. Freedom of the press, especially the periodical press, which alone has political significance, is necessary where there is political life; without the latter, it turns into empty chatter that mentally corrupts society. Especially among less educated people, the unbridled press usually becomes a muddy stream into which all sorts of impurities flow, a receptacle for undigested thoughts, vulgar passions, scandals and slander. This is recognized by the most liberal Western publicists who impartially observe the phenomena of life. In Russia, the periodical press, in the vast majority of its representatives, was a corrupting element; she brought not light, but darkness to Russian society. She gave birth to the Chernyshevskys, Dobrolyubovs, Pisarevs and their numerous followers, whose name is now legion.” “Even less does the cure lie in satisfying the so-called demands of youth”... “The cure does not lie in the return of political exiles, in the abolition of emergency measures and in the restoration of legal order... When a gang of seditionists reaches the most unheard of atrocities, then the salvation of society requires the suspension of guarantees. Only Russian newspapers, devoid of any political meaning, could dream of returning to legal order at the present time.” “The cure does not lie in administrative reforms concerning local government... Only those who have never participated in zemstvo affairs can claim that the activities of zemstvo institutions are paralyzed by the power of governors.”... “The cure does not lie in improving the economic life of the peasants, which is now so loudly talked about, in increasing allotments, in reducing burdens, in relocations, in equalizing taxes... the only reasonable measure would be to complete the liberation of the Russian peasantry by liberating them from the community and mutual guarantee, appropriating to them the ownership of the land to which they have an inalienable right, for they buy it with their own labor money. Only through this could the peasants develop that initiative, without which no economic success is possible: this would be the real completion of the situation on February 19th.” The reader sees what old and venerable roots Stolishsh’s program has - and how much hypocrisy Chicherin’s students needed to portray sacred horror and indignation, looking at the implementation of the behests of their teacher in 1906. But let's move on. So, nothing is needed: no freedom of the press, no abolition of emergency regulations, no university autonomy (“demands of youth”), no expansion of zemstvo rights. There is no need for a constitution. “Shouldn’t we, however, finally begin to impart political morals, to what we are accustomed to calling the completion of the building. At the present moment it would be least of all appropriate... At present, only followers of nihilism or those who are absolutely incapable of thinking and understanding anything can talk about the completion of the building. Now any limitation of power would be ruinous.” What is needed? The reader finally becomes interested. Chicherin is known as a liberal. Where is liberalism here, however? Don’t worry, dear reader, there is liberalism here, and in such a naked form that even the heroes of Wales’s last novel do not outdo it with their costumes. “The new government will inevitably have to turn to society and seek support in it; but the goal should not be to weaken, but to strengthen power, for this is our urgent need... The issue of the day is the fight against socialism "1. “In our country this struggle is in some respects less difficult than in other countries. Socialism is not widespread among the masses, who have remained alien to this infection. The Russian government is dealing with a comparatively small gang, which is drawn from different strata of society, but mainly from the intellectual proletariat, multiplied by our educational institutions and inflamed by the radical press. But this gang carries on the work of destruction with such energy and with such constancy, which, alas, is too often lacking in government spheres. You can only fight it with the same weapons. It is in vain that they dream of the possibility of pacification through concessions... Is the Russian government, however, capable of waging such a struggle on its own? No, this requires the moral support of the entire people, not that which is given by official addresses that have lost all meaning, but that which can only be given by live communication with representatives of the earth. And the land called to council will no doubt give this support. If only she saw determination in the government, she would not refuse him help. But if she finds hesitation in the bearers of power, then everything is lost.” So, autocracy, as an organ of the bourgeois dictatorship in the fight against socialism. But this is what it is, Stolypinism, the reader will exclaim. Yes, this is Stolypinism. It came out of the head of one of the leaders of Russian liberalism - true leaders and true liberalism - in 188]. The Duma on June 3, 1907 (“one deputy from the nobility and two from the zemstvo of each province,” writes Chicherin) fully implemented the liberal program of the beginning of the reign. Alexandra III. It is no wonder that the ministers of Alexander II turned out to be too radical for the leader of Russian liberals. “I learned that Abaza submitted his project to the State Council on reducing redemption payments and on mandatory redemption. I have already told you that nothing can be said against reducing payments in those areas where the peasants are too burdened; but the general measure that changes the foundations of the situation on February 19th shakes the main pillar on which the renewed Russia is based. Raising the issue of compulsory ransom in these troubled times, but in my opinion, is simply madness. And I’m not the only one who sees things this way. Dmitriev, whose close relationship with Abaza is known to you, is in despair. The most subordinates of Abaza Turner and Mengden are horrified by this measure. Who would have thought that this extremely cautious man, contrary to the opinions of his friends and his employees, would decide to pull out such a thing? We live in a time where everyone's head is spinning. Your duty, dear friend, is not only to rebel against this in the State Council, but also to convey to the sovereign that raising the peasant question and changing the basis of the situation on February 19th can shake his kingdom, agitate the peasants, give strength to the nihilists, confuse all reasonable people and push away from the government precisely those protective elements that should rally around him 2. These are the consequences that the final abolition of serfdom (eventually carried out by Alexander III) should have had! The writer of these lines caused great indignation among some by allowing himself to call Chicherin a “Tambov semi-serf-owner.” Perhaps now the indignant will agree that if I am in any way. guilty, then only of excessive softness of expression? We see how naive it would be to consider “reaction” and “liberalism” to be polar opposites. Every liberal becomes a reactionary when “sacred property” is threatened, and every reactionary will willingly extend his hand to a liberal when it is necessary to defend this latter. If the published collection had provided nothing but correspondence between Pobedonostsev and Chicherin, this would have been a major contribution to the history of the Russian public. And he gives much more. Not a single historian of Russia in the last quarter of the 19th century will pass by this book - and for the sake of its rich content, perhaps he will forgive the defects of its editorship. Materials from personal correspondence left by K. P. Pobedonostsev in the Department of Manuscripts of the Rumyantsov Museum are of such significant interest for the history of the last decades of Imperial Russia that it does not seem necessary to speak in defense of this publication. The correspondence of K. P. Pobedonostsev, located in the Ruyantsov Museum, naturally falls into three independent parts. When printing the first volume, we gave it the title inscribed by Pobedonostsev himself on notebooks dating back to the reign of Alexander III. We give this part in its entirety without omissions, since it, in large part representing documents of great importance, otherwise still characterizes the choice “for memory”, which is determined by the circle and characteristics of all correspondents of Konstantin Pobedonostsev. We have left this selection of documents untouched in order to fully characterize the central figure of the correspondence. Let the reader have the opportunity to judge for himself what the minister of Alexander’s government, who had in his hands the threads of all the relationships of the era of deep reaction and determined the governmental turn after 1881, considered necessary to preserve for himself and posterity. If the “Moscow Collection” was a selection of signs and properties of an era of deep political and social illness of a huge country, made for the purpose of ideological justification of this illness, then the present correspondence represents documents of the political practice of the government commissar for the exploitation of the spiritual needs of the population for the purposes pursued by the tsarist regime. From this point of view, of interest are both extensive memos with signatures of prominent government officials, and anonymous letters in the form of small letters, coming mainly from the director of the police department, M.V. or agents of the security department, whose hand was known to the almighty chief prosecutor and without a signature. The first volume of this publication comes out in two editions, of which the first half-volume covers official and unofficial correspondence with various persons, starting from 1876 and up to 1883 inclusive. The second half volume contains correspondence and memos from 1884 to 1895. A separate addition of the second at the end includes letters from Alexander III to Pobedonostsev, mainly during his teaching career as a lawyer professor Pobedonostsev in the Romanov family. The publication is preceded by an article by M. N. Pokrovsky. Both editions are equipped with only the most necessary additional information in the form of short indexes. Moscow, June 29, 1923.