III. Критика
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N.I. Kareev. Economic materialism and the regularity of social phenomena 654
Regarding the article by S. N. Bulgakov “On the regularity of social phenomena” (Questions of Philosophy and Psychology. 1896. November-December)
Mr. Bulgakov’s article, to which I dedicate this critical note, was written in defense of so-called economic materialism and was itself inspired by R. Stammler’s book 655 “Economy and Law from the Point of View of a Materialist Understanding of History.” This book is truly worth talking about. The writer of these lines himself intends to publish an analysis of this work and then touches on the question of how right or wrong Mr. Bulgakov is in his comments about Stammler’s book. We will leave the latter alone for now and will consider Mr. Bulgakov’s article as if no Stammler existed in the world.
In recent years, the author of this note has had to return quite often to the question of economic materialism. Not even a year has passed since he published a whole book on this subject (“Old and New Studies on Economic Materialism”), and new material is already accumulating, perhaps for another such book. I also include Mr. Bulgakov’s article among this material.
In our previous works devoted to this teaching, we argued that it is extremely undeveloped. We do not change this opinion now. It is pleasant to note even here that Mr. Bulgakov also asserts the same thing (pp. 583–584), but it is unlikely that only his reference “to the general imperfection of our knowledge” corrects the matter. I even think that at the present moment economic materialism as a historical-philosophical or sociological theory is itself moving away from the position in which it arose and grew. Its essence, in short, is the desire to explain the whole history from one economy, why it is economic materialism, i.e. the whole power of the expression “economic materialism” lies in the adjective “economic”. Meanwhile, supporters of this doctrine are somehow beginning to be inclined to replace this adjective with some other one.
One of these supporters, whose views I now do not touch upon at all, prefers to call his theory dialectical materialism, which transfers the center of gravity of the teaching from economics to dialectics. Mr. Bulgakov also finds that it is better to call the understanding of history he defends not economic, but social materialism (p. 576). It is interesting to observe this displacement from a complex term of precisely the very moment from which this term received its original coloring. However, this, of course, does not matter.
The important thing is that economic materialism has not proven (and has never tried to prove) its basic term, that not only the state and law, but also the entire spiritual culture of society, its religion and morality, its philosophy and science, its literature and art grow, so to speak, directly and in any case ultimately from economic relations. We think that the task of proving this is equivalent to the famous squaring of the circle and trisection of the angle. Mr. Bulgakov also does not prove this main thesis of the entire teaching, apparently taking it for something self-explanatory. In this case, he takes the same dogmatic point of view as all his comrades in the defense of economic materialism. This is my sincere belief. But I am just as sincerely convinced of something else, namely that Mr. Bulgakov, unlike others, is still seeking truth, and does not think that he has already found it. This is the nice part of his article. Mr. Bulgakov is not a dogmatist or a “dialectician.”
He wants to take the point of view of critical philosophy and expects very much from the application of the principles of this philosophy to the problems of sociology (p. 581, etc.). This alone gives us the right to hope that he will not fully adhere to the point of view of economic materialism, which originated in Hegel’s dialectical metaphysics, transferred from the area of “spirit” and “idea” to the area of “matter” and “economy.” Not only that: if, reading his article, we constantly come across, on the one hand, unfounded statements that economic materialism is the best sociological theory (pp. 581, 582, etc.), then, on the other hand, we just as constantly encounter significant concessions, which the true supporters of the doctrine do not make. For example, Mr. Bulgakov admits that “relations of production do not directly determine each individual historical fact” (p. 582), although he does not naturally ask where the mediating moments come from.
The concession also lies in Mr. Bulgakov’s recognition of the human personality as an “independent, original cause” among other causes operating in the world of phenomena (p. 610), which is what other representatives of economic materialism are so up in arms against. But we would ask Mr. Bulgakov this: if in history the whole essence of the matter lies not in one environment (the organization of production), but also in the individual, then why does he not want to admit that in the creation of history the individual participates not only through actions aimed at satisfying the need for food, clothing and housing, but also through actions arising from the desire to satisfy spiritual needs, even if the latter themselves were, as true materialists think, products of purely physiological processes occurring in the body. I myself do not think this, and Mr. Bulgakov, standing from the point of view of critical philosophy, of course, cannot think this.
If we were both, however, materialists and recognized in spiritual needs only a modification of purely physiological needs, then even in this case we would distinguish the need for “truth, goodness and beauty” from the need for food, clothing and housing, which creates human economic activity, that is, at least for science with philosophy, for morality with religion, for art with poetry, with all their influences on social relations, we would point to the source that lies outside the economy. In other words, even the most inveterate materialist, recognizing only the human “individual” as a factor in history, cannot be an economic materialist, even if he persists in asserting that thought is a product of the brain. Yes, the brain, not economic relations!
We will not mark all those places where Mr. Bulgakov declares without any evidence that economic materialism is the only scientific theory. But we cannot ignore other passages that indicate that he deliberately or unintentionally ignores all other sociological theories. We noted this feature of the supporters of economic materialism already in our “Old and New Studies on Economic Materialism.” We became even more convinced that this is so when we began, in a new work that we are preparing for publication, to clarify the relationships that exist between economic materialism and other sociological theories. Mr. Bulgakov, like other economic materialists, apparently does not want to know the whole of modern sociology in its various directions, neither in order to borrow anything from it, nor in order to criticize anything in it. This is the position of all economic materialists, and, of course, they are completely in vain in taking such a position. “On existing attempts to define society,” says, for example, Mr.
Bulgakov, – it’s hardly worth stopping” (p. 585). It is a pity that Mr. Bulgakov thinks so: he, at least, should have shown how and which of these definitions are bad and why the economic-materialist definition is better. If economic materialists had been more attentive to sociological literature, then, probably, they would not have said much, and they would not have taken other credit as their exclusive merit. Mr. Bulgakov very often attributes special merit to economic materialism for such things that were not discovered by him and are not his exclusive property. It turns out that economic materialism was the first, or almost the first, to discover, establish, prove, actually carry out the ideas of the naturalness of the historical process and the laws of social phenomena, and it alone correctly understands and applies these ideas (pp. 581, 584, 607, etc.), as if all this was unknown to other theories.
On the other hand, when considering certain particular issues, he certainly does not suspect that there are entire theories of very prominent sociologists on them. For example, much of Stammler seems new to him (regardless of whether Mr. Bulgakov agrees with him or not), and yet he could find the same thing in such writers as Lester Ward 656 (Dynamic Sociology, 1883), Fulier 657 (La science sociale contemporaine, 1880) and many others. Mr. Bulgakov even claims that, from the point of view of expediency, he considers social phenomena “for now only Stammler (and his probable followers)” (p. 609), forgetting, in addition to the two mentioned writers, for example, Ihering 658, who, like Fouillet and Ward, of course, cannot be recognized as a follower of Stammler... Economic materialists are already very much closing themselves in the circle of their favorite ideas, they really don’t like to be considered with what is being done in other areas of modern sociology! Of course, this does not inspire much confidence in their teachings...
One of the favorite ideas of economic materialists is the reduction of all the diversity of social life to unity, or a single principle (which is the economic principle). Taking this point of view, they attack the idea of interaction, which presupposes the existence of at least two (in general, many) principles independent of one another. In this matter, Mr. Bulgakov is faithful to the traditions of the school. He stands for unity everywhere (pp. 579, 581, 582, etc.) and arms himself with particular force against interaction (p. 578). He even finds that “proponents of interaction, asserting the existence of several independent factors of historical development,” thereby “deny the special unity of our observations - society,” and therefore allegedly “abolish” sociology itself (p. 382). This argument deserves consideration - and precisely in connection with other provisions defended in Mr. Bulgakov’s article.
That he identifies “supporters of interaction” with “opponents of social materialism” is not at all his personal opinion: other supporters of economic materialism said the same thing. But these latter, previously, in their desire for “monism,” which is hardly appropriate in this case, referred to the unity of the basis (in their opinion, economic) on which the entire cultural and social life of mankind grows. Mr. Bulgakov says something completely different: according to him, interaction denies not so much the unity of this basis as the unity of society as a special subject of our observations. If, he says, we recognize interaction, then we will be talking only about the simultaneous operation of the laws of biology, psychology, etc. (p. 582). Mr. Bulgakov thinks that such a concept “abolishes” sociology, but he himself said so, that in the above words he did not add the laws of sociology to the laws of biology and psychology. What to do if this actually happens, i.e.
that the laws of biology, psychology and sociology operate simultaneously? After all, the simultaneous action of the laws of physics and chemistry in organisms does not abolish biology! And what does this very phrase mean: “The special unity of our observations is society”? If by this we mean the homogeneity of social phenomena in their difference from mental, biological, chemical phenomena, etc., then this does not in the least prevent us from recognizing the interactions between these homogeneous phenomena (for example, between law and the national economy as equally social phenomena). If unity here refers to society itself, that is, the latter is thought of as something unified in which there is not and cannot be much (“several independent factors”), then this is not true! Mr. Bulgakov is horrified that proponents of interaction “recognize several series of causal connections operating in one and the same object” (p. 582). This “one and the same object” is society, but who would dare to assert that there is only one series of causal connections in it?
Mr. Bulgakov recognizes the importance of an “independent, original cause” for each person (p. 610), and if this is so, then why are all members of society not these very many factors that proponents of interaction talk about? And indeed, society itself is, in the end, a product of the interaction of individuals. Of course, with other economic materialists, Mr. Bulgakov must recognize the importance of the environment as a factor, but unlike other followers of the same theory, he also recognizes personality, and then why shouldn’t he allow interaction between personality and environment here too?
Let, however, Mr. Bulgakov not recognize the interaction between the individual and the environment; even if he does not recognize the cultural and social interaction of individuals in society (cf. p. 585, where the definition of society is given), many of his own provisions can be recognized only under the condition of allowing interaction. Here are examples of this. Mr. Bulgakov says that “the process of historical development is accomplished by contradictions, social conflicts,” and this, in his opinion, “consists of the dialectical process of history.” He sees such a contradiction mainly “between the productive forces of a given era and the outdated legal order.” But, according to his own statement, a conflict could not arise between the economy and the law if there were a direct mechanical causal connection between the law and the economy (p. 595). Indeed, there is no complete coincidence of law and economy, but this, in our opinion, indicates that law depends on something other than economy, and that it is not a simple function of the latter. Apparently, Mr.
Bulgakov is inclined to think that law ensures only property interests, as if it is not also called upon to ensure the rights of the individual, his life, freedom, dignity and honor. Once, however, he recognizes, to put it briefly, the possibility of a discrepancy between law and economics, he must admit that there is something that violates their unity (as the form and matter of one and the same phenomenon), and this means that law has its own special sources; if at the same time the possibility of conflict is allowed, then not only the heterogeneity of law and economics is tacitly recognized, but also the need for interaction between them: the conflict consists precisely in action and reaction. Revolting against the idea of interaction because it requires the recognition of several factors, which violates unity, Mr. Bulgakov himself, however, asserts that “contradictory elements constitute the very essence of modern economy” (p. 606). By saying this, doesn’t Mr. Bulgakov thereby recognize “several series of causal connections operating in one and the same object” (see.
above), and therefore doesn’t he himself deny the “special unity of our observations” (see above) - economy? In it, he distinguishes between the negative and positive sides (p. 606): doesn’t it mean that they have different foundations, for otherwise there would be no conflict between them - and that this conflict consists in their interaction? One side seeks to destroy the other by acting on it, and this other side, opposing the first, seeks to maintain its position. Conflict is one of the types of interaction. In any case, the argument put forward by Mr. Bulgakov against interaction would oblige him to adhere more strictly to an unfavorable attitude towards any thought that implies a denial of the “unity of our observations.”
We have just said that Mr. Bulgakov does not recognize a direct causal connection between law and economy, and we sympathize with him on this, because we do not share the view of the exclusively material and economic origin of law: law has roots, in addition to economics, in ethics. Mr. Bulgakov, of course, does not recognize the latter; otherwise he would have departed from the most fundamental point of doctrine. But even if he is right, and the reduction of law to economy, as its only basis, is correct: regardless of the fact that this would contradict the statement according to which there is no direct causal connection between law and economy, could it be possible to conclude from the origin of law from economy to the origin of all spiritual culture from economy? G. Bulgakov even insists with particular force that the connection between law and economics is purely causal. He speaks out strongly against “teleology in law,” noting that “the teleological understanding of law cannot be derived from the materialist understanding of history” (pp. 605–606).
The latter is absolutely true, but this argument of economic materialism is in no way against the teleological understanding of law. Economic materialism still remains unsubstantiated, but the teleological understanding of law (“The Goal is in Law” by Iering) is, after all, justified.
However, Mr. Bulgakov is hostile not against teleology in law, but against teleology in general. In history, he understands only genetic processes and completely incomprehensible teleological processes (or anthropo-teleological, using Lester Ward’s term). Apparently, he does not want to understand the difference between the origin of the pattern that frost draws on the table and the pattern that is created by the artist who sets himself one goal or another. He doesn’t seriously think that by recognizing the teleological origin of the second pattern, we thereby deny its causality. Meanwhile, Mr. Bulgakov precisely insists on the irreconcilability of the causal and teleological points of view (p. 600). Let us even admit that all of his reasoning on this score is completely correct and that the use of a teleological point of view is not suitable for understanding the genesis of phenomena and that it is suitable only for ethics (p. 601) - after all, this still does not justify economic materialism.
Mr. Bulgakov thinks that since the question of goals is thrown out of sociology, then the undivided dominance in this science of the question of causes logically leads to economic materialism. Why? All organic views on society also proceed from the idea of causality, rejecting teleology (for which, for example, Ward attacks Spencer), but this does not force them to convert to the faith of economic materialists. Mr. Bulgakov’s favorite principle of purely mechanical explanation is applied even to the understanding of purely mental processes, and if this sometimes leads to materialism, it is by no means to economic materialism. But the point is that we made concessions to Mr. Bulgakov in vain. Firstly, in the study of social phenomena, which are always connected with certain actions of people, we cannot do without an anthropo-teleological point of view: the whole “economy” would be a completely incomprehensible phenomenon for us if we did not know the purposes for which people plow the land, raise livestock, build roads, build plants and factories, weave canvas or cloth, etc.
But since in all these cases we only understand human actions by the goals for the sake of which they are performed, without evaluating these goals and these actions from an ethical point of view (which, indeed, is a completely different kind of mental work), then there is no need to say that raising the question of goals can only be significant from an ethical point of view. Of course, we don’t even think about talking about any other teleology in social phenomena, and this teleology should have been recognized by Mr. Bulgakov himself, who still believes in the possibility for a person, under certain conditions, to “direct these actions expediently” (p. 611). After all, when they talk about “a goal in law,” they do not mean some other teleology.
But even if all this reasoning of ours is incorrect - we even agree to expel the very concept of goal from sociology in order to reduce everything to one mechanics of blindly acting forces - let Mr. Bulgakov be right when he takes precisely this point of view, without straying to other points of view, we still (we repeat this again) do not see the need to derive an economic view of history from such a mechanical view of history, as Mr. Bulgakov constantly does (p. 581, 607, etc.). The mechanical view may not be economic: the question of how a force acts does not prejudge the question of what is active in this force: and vice versa, economic materialism may not be mechanical, it can be directly teleological: one has only to admit that in all expedient human actions one basic motive is manifested - economic. Mr. Bulgakov himself says: “The matter of social life is the joint activity of people, directed (NB: the concept of goal) to satisfying their needs, to which the content of life is reduced without a trace” (p. 586).
It is also completely in vain that Mr. Bulgakov claims that only economic materialism “continued the work of Darwin, extending the principle of causal interpretation to human history” (p. 607). This business began before Darwin, and it does not at all constitute a manifestation of economic materialism. He only owns the statement that “the pattern of social life is the pattern of economic phenomena,” due to which “the knowledge of this pattern is the knowledge of the causal emergence of economic phenomena” (p. 582). But the existence of a pattern in social life does not at all indicate that this pattern is generated by the “causal emergence of economic phenomena.” After all, it is not only the phenomena of the national economy that arise in a strictly causal sequence and therefore differ in their regularity. Causality also dominates in the human mental world, and therefore mental phenomena occur naturally. Even if we take the ground of materialism, i.e.
admit that the causes of mental phenomena lie in physiological processes, then even then it will not be possible to assert that the regularity of social phenomena is determined by their economic nature. True, Mr. Bulgakov distinguishes from individual manifestations of patterns “a general law, a generally applicable unity - the dependence of social life on the social economy” (p. 581), but he would still need to prove that, besides such a general law, no other equivalent laws exist (for example, the dependence of social life on the degree of spiritual development of individual human races in comparison with each other and with higher social animals). Economic materialism, says Mr. Bulgakov, “requires the unity of the law, which corresponds to the unity of the subject,” but our author has not yet proven that society is such a strict unity that does not allow even the thought of the action in it of many factors that can be subsumed under different categories with a special basic law for each.
After all, the “unity of the object” is observed in the body - what prevents many laws from acting in it, and even laws of different categories: physical, chemical, plus their own special, biological ones? An even stranger impression is made by Mr. Bulgakov’s statement that the unity of an object, in turn, is “conditioned by the unity of space and time,” as “a postulate of our reason, established by Kant’s critique of knowledge.” We think that in general Kant’s criticism of knowledge has nothing to do with it. Otherwise, from the unity of space and time it would be possible to deduce the unity of any arbitrarily taken objects, such as, for example, matter, and on this basis not allow it to obey any laws other than chemical ones, and so that in matter, as the “unity of our observation,” any kind of plurality (atoms) and diversity (different categories of simple bodies, elements) could exist. In general, Mr. Bulgakov in vain puts his topic in connection with epistemological questions, solving them according to Kant.
That he solves them precisely according to Kant, in this we sympathize with him, but we do not see the need for epistemological justification of individual scientific theories. Epistemology establishes only the general principles of knowledge, and in our case it limits the scope of the cognizable to phenomena alone, but in order to determine the nature of these phenomena, nothing can be squeezed out of epistemology: everything must be given by the study of the phenomena themselves, and each category of them is studied using special methods, and if all methods must be based on logic, then each of them depends on the properties of the object being studied, which no epistemology can establish. We even think that constantly speaking about epistemology to justify economic materialism, Mr. Bulgakov broadens this concept too much, meaning by it the logic of sciences or methodology. For example, he seems to believe that the establishment of “an objective logical concept of sociality, a special object of science” has epistemological significance (p. 586).
But even if the author uses the word “epistemology” absolutely correctly, economic materialism cannot in any way be derived from Kant’s critique of knowledge. It can be derived even less from criticism than from Hegel’s materialism or dialecticism (as other followers of the doctrine do). We venture to assert that attempts to derive economic materialism from positivism or evolutionism (that is, from the principles of Auguste Comte and Herbert Spencer 659) would be crowned with little success.
We deliberately started talking about positivism. Modern sociology, which Mr. Bulgakov, like other economic materialists, completely ignores, originated precisely in Comte’s positivism: here the task of studying the laws that govern social phenomena was first set. No matter how many private (and even very important) mistakes were made along this path, the general understanding of what law is has always maintained scientific heights. In “Old and New Studies on Economic Materialism,” we noted cases of strange understanding of “laws” among some representatives of economic materialism. Mr. Bulgakov, citing some passages from Stammler’s book where the term “regularity” receives a very inappropriate use (pp. 597 and 599), in his analysis of these passages does not reveal in a single word that he noticed this feature of Stammler’s reasoning. We have committed ourselves to the reader not to touch upon Mr. Bulgakov’s attitude towards Stammler at all, but we consider this point worth noting.
In conclusion, about one more point. Economic materialism boasts of its special objectivity: everything that contradicts it, it declares to be a product of subjectivism and social idealism. Meanwhile, all economic materialists are precisely bearers of a certain social ideal, which explains the success of economic materialism among people who are far from interested in purely theoretical issues.
Mr. Bulgakov is also animated by an ideal desire for a better social system. Why does it seem impossible for him to adhere to both social idealism and materialism? And in his chest live two souls (cf. p. 608): one soul strives for knowledge of what is, as it is, and is satisfied in this regard with economic materialism; another soul strives to develop for itself an idea of what should be, and this other soul needs this idea not in order to know, but in order to live intelligently. We are talking about the principles of knowledge. Mr. Bulgakov says quite rightly that “objectivity is mandatory for every human consciousness,” but that this “property is, obviously, of a completely social origin” (p. 600), we cannot understand this in any way. On the contrary, we recognize social origin only in that subjectivism that Mr. Bulgakov denies in theory, but the content of which, apparently, is more or less the same for both of us.
V.I. Lenin. The agrarian question and the “critics of Marx” 660
“...To prove... that dogmatic Marxism in the field of agrarian issues has been knocked out of position would mean knocking on an open door...” So stated last year by “Russian Wealth” through the mouth of Mr. V. Chernov 661 (1900, No. 8, p. 204). This “dogmatic Marxism” has a strange property! For many years now, scientists and the most learned people in Europe have been solemnly declaring (and newspapermen and journalists are repeating and retelling) that Marxism has already been knocked down from its position by “criticism” - and yet every new critic again begins to work at bombarding this supposedly already destroyed position. Mr. V. Chernov, for example, both in the magazine “Russian Wealth” and in the collection “On a Glorious Post” for as many as 240 pages “knocks on an open door,” “talking” with the reader about Hertz’s book 662. Such a thoroughly retold work by Hertz, who, in turn, talks about Kautsky’s book, has already been translated into Russian. Mr. Bulgakov, fulfilling his promise to refute the same Kautsky, published an entire two-volume study 663.
Now, probably, no one will be able to find even the remnants of “dogmatic Marxism”, crushed to death by these mountains of critical printed paper.
I. The “Law” of Diminishing Soil Fertility
Let us first take a closer look at the general theoretical physiognomy of the critics. Mr. Bulgakov published an article in the journal “Nachalo” against Kautsky’s “Agrarian Question” 664 and immediately revealed all his “critical” techniques. With the extraordinary bitingness and swagger of a true horseman, he “destroyed” Kautsky, slipping him what he did not say; accusing him, Kautsky, of ignoring circumstances and considerations precisely stated by him, Kautsky; presenting to the reader, under the guise of his own critical conclusions, the conclusions made by Kautsky. With the air of an expert, Mr. Bulgakov accused Kautsky of confusing technology and economics - and at the same time he himself immediately revealed not only incredible confusion, but also his reluctance to read to the end the pages he quoted from his opponent. It goes without saying that the future professor’s article was full of hackneyed antics against socialists, against the “theory of collapse,” utopianism, belief in miracles, and so on. 665 Now in his doctoral dissertation (“Capitalism and Agriculture”, St. Petersburg, 1900), Mr.
Bulgakov put an end to all scores with Marxism and brought his “critical” evolution to its logical conclusion.
At the forefront of his “theory of agrarian development” Mr. Bulgakov places the “law of diminishing fertility of the night.” We are given excerpts from the writings of the classics who established this “law” (by virtue of which each additional investment of labor and capital in the land is accompanied not by a corresponding, but by a decreasing amount of the extracted product). We are given a list of English economists who recognize this law. We are assured that it “has universal significance,” that it is “a completely obvious truth that is absolutely impossible to deny,” “which is only sufficient to clearly state,” etc., etc. The more decisively Mr. Bulgakov expresses himself, the more clearly it is clear that he is moving back to bourgeois political economy, which obscured social relations with fictitious “eternal laws.” In fact, what does the “evidence” of the notorious “law of diminishing soil fertility” amount to?
Moreover, if subsequent applications of labor and capital to the land did not produce a decreasing, but an equal amount of product, then there would be no need to expand arable land at all, then an additional amount of grain could be produced on the same amount of land, no matter how small this amount was, then “the agriculture of the entire globe could be covered on one tithe.” This is the usual (and only) argument and benefit of a “universal” law. And the slightest reflection will show anyone that this leaves aside the most important thing: the level of technology, the state of the productive forces. In essence, the very concept: “additional (or: sequential) investments of labor and capital” presupposes a change in methods of production, a transformation of technology. In order to significantly increase the amount of capital invested in land, it is necessary to invent new machines, new cropping systems, new methods of keeping livestock, transporting products, etc., etc.
Of course, on a relatively small scale, “additional investments of labor and capital” can (and do) occur on the basis of a given, unchanged level of technology: in this case, the “law of diminishing soil fertility” is also applicable to some extent, applicable in the sense that the unchanged state of technology places very narrow comparative limits on additional investments of labor and capital. Instead of a universal law, we receive, therefore, a highly relative “law” - so relative that there can be no talk of any “law” or any cardinal particularity. Let's take it as given: three-field land, traditional grain crops, dung-raising cattle, lack of improved meadows and improved tools. It is obvious that, provided these data remain unchanged, the limits of additional investments of labor and capital in land are extremely narrow.
But even within those narrow limits within which additional investments of labor and capital are nevertheless possible, a decrease in the productivity of each such additional investment will not always and certainly be observed. Let's take industry. Let us imagine flour milling or iron refining in the era before global trade and the invention of steam engines. In this state of technology, the limits of additional investment of labor and capital in hand forges, windmills and water mills were extremely narrow; It was inevitable that there would be an enormous proliferation of small forges and mills until a radical transformation of methods of production created the basis for new forms of industry.
So: the “law of diminishing soil fertility” is not at all applicable to those cases when technology progresses, when methods of production are transformed; it has only a very relative and conditional application to those cases where the technique remains unchanged. That is why neither Marx nor the Marxists talk about this “law”, but only representatives of bourgeois science, like Brentano, shout about it, who cannot get rid of the prejudices of the old political economy with its abstract, eternal and natural laws.
Mr. Bulgakov defends the “universal law” with arguments that are worth laughing at.
“What was a free gift from nature must now be made by man: wind and rain loosened the soil, full of nutrients; a little effort on the part of man was enough to obtain what was needed. As time goes on, more and more of the productive work falls to the lot of man; as elsewhere, artificial processes are increasingly taking the place of natural ones. But if in industry this expresses man’s victory over nature, in agriculture it indicates the growing difficulty of existence, for which nature is reducing its gifts.
In this case, it makes no difference whether the increasing difficulty of producing food is expressed in an increase in human labor or its products, for example, tools of production or fertilizer, etc. (Mr. Bulgakov wants to say: it makes no difference whether the increasing difficulty in producing food is expressed in an increase in human labor or in an increase in its products); “The only important thing is that it costs a person more and more expensive. This replacement of the forces of nature by human labor, natural factors of production by artificial ones, is the law of diminishing soil fertility” (16).
Obviously, Mr. Bulgakov is not allowed to sleep on the laurels of Messrs. Struve and Tugan-Baranovsky 666, who came up with the idea that it is not a person who works with the help of a machine, but a machine with the help of a person. Like these critics, he falls to the level of vulgar economy, talking about replacing the forces of nature with human labor, etc. It is, generally speaking, just as impossible to replace the forces of nature with human labor, just as it is impossible to replace arshins with pounds. Both in industry and in agriculture, a person can only use the action of the forces of nature if he has cognized their action, and facilitate this use for himself through machines, tools, etc. That primitive man received what he needed as a free gift from nature is a stupid fable for which even beginning students can boo Mr. Bulgakov. There was no golden age behind us, and primitive man was completely depressed by the difficulty of existence, the difficulty of fighting nature. The introduction of machines and improved methods of production has made this struggle immeasurably easier for man in general and the production of food in particular.
It was not the difficulty of producing food that increased, but the difficulty of obtaining food for the worker - it increased because capitalist development inflated land rent and land price, concentrated agriculture in the hands of large and small capitalists, concentrated even more machines, tools, money, without which successful production is impossible. To explain this growing difficulty of workers' existence by saying that nature is reducing her gifts is to become a bourgeois apologist.
“By accepting this law,” continues Mr. Bulgakov, “we are not at all affirming the continuous increase in the difficulty of food production or not denying agricultural progress: to affirm the first and deny the second would mean going against the evidence. There is no doubt that this difficulty does not grow continuously; development moves in zigzags. Agronomic discoveries and technical improvements transform barren lands into fertile ones, temporarily abolishing the trend noted in the law of diminishing soil fertility” (ibid.).
Isn't that so profound?
Technical progress is a “temporary” trend, and the law of diminishing soil fertility, i.e., the decreasing (and even then not always) productivity of additional capital investments on the basis of unchanged technology, “has universal significance”! This is absolutely the same as saying: stopping trains at stations is a universal law of steam transport, and the movement of trains between stations is a temporary tendency that paralyzes the action of the universal law of stopping.
Finally, there is mass data that clearly refutes the universality of the law of diminishing returns: data on the agricultural and non-agricultural population. Mr. Bulgakov himself admits that “procuring food would require a constantly increasing relatively” (note this!) “amount of labor and, consequently, an agricultural population, if each country were limited by its natural resources” (19). If in Western Europe the agricultural population is decreasing, this is explained by the fact that through the import of grain it was possible to deviate from the law of diminishing fertility. - Nothing to say, good explanation! Our scientist forgot about the little detail that a relative decrease in the agricultural population is observed in all capitalist countries, including both agricultural ones and those importing grain. The agricultural population is relatively decreasing in America and Russia, it has been decreasing in France since the end of the 18th century (see figures in the same work by Mr. Bulgakov, II, p.
168), and this relative decrease sometimes even turns into an absolute one, while the excess of grain imports over exports was completely negligible back in the 30s and 40s, and only since 1878 have there been no years with an excess of exports over imports 667. In Prussia, the rural population decreased relatively from 73.5% in 1816 to 71.7% in 1849 and 67.5% in 1871, and the import of rye began only in the early 60s, wheat - from the early 70s (ibid., II, 70 and 88). Finally, if we take the European countries importing grain - for example, France and Germany of the last decade - then we see the undoubted progress of agriculture along with an absolute decrease in the number of workers employed in it: in France this number decreased from 1882 to 1892 - from 6,913,504 to 6,663,135 ("Statist. agric.", Part II, p. 248–251), in Germany from 1882 to 1895 - from 8064 thousand to 8045 thousand.
668 Thus, it can be said that the entire history of the 19th century, with mass data in relation to the most diverse countries, irrefutably proves that the “universal” law of diminishing returns is completely paralyzed by the “temporary” trend of technological progress, which makes it possible for a relatively (and sometimes even absolutely) decreasing rural population to produce an increasing amount of agricultural products for an increasing mass of the population.
By the way, these massive statistical data also completely refute the following two central points of Mr. Bulgakov’s “theory,” namely: firstly, his assertion that “the theory of faster growth of constant capital (tools and materials of production) compared with variable capital (labor power) is “completely inapplicable to agriculture.” Mr. Bulgakov emphatically declares that this theory is incorrect, citing in support of his opinion: a) “Prof. A. Skvortsov” (most famous for the fact that he attributed Marx’s theory of the average rate of profit to propaganda malice) and b) to the fact that with the intensification of the economy, the number of workers per unit area increases. This is one of those deliberate misunderstandings of Marx that representatives of fashionable criticism constantly display. Just think: the theory of faster growth of constant capital compared to variable capital is refuted by the fact of an increase in variable capital per unit area! And Mr.
Bulgakov does not notice that the statistical data he himself cites in such abundance confirms Marx’s theory. If in all German agriculture the number of workers from 1882 to 1895 decreased from 8064 to 8045 thousand (and with the addition of persons engaged in side farming, it increased from 11,208 to 11,623 thousand, i.e. by only 3.7%), while the number of livestock during this time increased from 23.0 million to 25.4 million (transferring all livestock to cattle), i.e. by more than 10%, the number of cases of use of the five main machines increased from 458 thousand to 922 thousand, i.e. more than doubling, the amount of imported fertilizers from 636 thousand tons (1883) to 1961 thousand tons (1892) and the amount of potassium salts from 304 thousand. double centners to 2400 thousand 669 - then isn’t it clear that the ratio of constant capital to variable capital is increasing? We are no longer talking about the fact that these sweeping data greatly conceal the progress of large-scale production. More on this below.
Secondly, the progress of agriculture with a decrease or negligible absolute increase in the rural population completely refutes Mr. Bulgakov’s absurd attempt to resurrect Malthusianism. Among the Russian “former Marxists”, Mr. Struve was perhaps the first to make this attempt in his “Critical Notes” 670, but he, as always, did not go beyond timid, unspoken and ambiguous remarks, not fully thought out and not reduced to one system of views. Mr. Bulgakov is bolder and more consistent: he, without hesitation, turns the “law of diminishing fertility” into “one of the most important laws of the history of civilization” (sic! 671 p. 18). “The whole history of the 19th century... with its problems of wealth and poverty would be incomprehensible without this law.” “For me there is absolutely no doubt that the social question in its present formulation is essentially connected with this law” (this our strict scientist declares already on the 18th page of his “research”)!..
“There is no doubt,” he declares at the end of the work, “that, given the presence of overpopulation, a certain part of poverty must be attributed to absolute poverty, poverty of production, and not of distribution” (II, 221). “The problem of population in its special formulation, which is created by the conditions of agricultural production, is, in my eyes, the main difficulty that lies on the way - at least at the present time - to any widespread implementation of the principles of collectivism or cooperation in agricultural enterprises” (II, 265). “The past leaves as a legacy to the future the grain question, more terrible and more difficult than the social question—the question of production, not distribution” (II, 455), etc., etc., etc. We do not need to talk about the scientific significance of this “theory,” which is inextricably linked with the universal law of diminishing soil fertility, after we have examined this law.
And that the critical flirtation with Malthusianism led in its inevitable logical development to the most vulgar bourgeois apologeticism - this is evidenced in the conclusions of Mr. Bulgakov that we have cited with frankness that leaves nothing to be desired.
In the next essay, we will analyze the data of some new sources indicated by our critics (who have been buzzing with all their ears that the orthodox shun detail), and we will show that Mr. Bulgakov generally turns the word “overpopulation” into a stencil, the application of which saves him from any analysis, and especially from the analysis of class contradictions within the “peasantry.” Now, limiting ourselves to the general theoretical side of the agrarian question, we must also touch upon the theory of rent. “As for Marx,” writes Mr. Bulgakov, “in Volume III of Capital, in the form we now have it, he does not add anything worthy of attention to Ricardo’s theory of differential rent 672” (87). Let us remember this “nothing worthy of attention,” and compare with the critic’s verdict the following statement he made earlier: “Despite the obviously negative attitude towards this law (the law of diminishing soil fertility), Marx assimilates in its basic principles Ricardo’s theory of rent, which is built on this law” (13). It turns out, according to the city.
Bulgakov that Marx did not notice the connection between Ricardo’s theory of rent and the law of diminishing returns and therefore did not make ends meet! We can say one thing about such a presentation: no one distorts Marx as much as former Marxists, no one shows such incredible demon... impudence... in palming off a thousand and one mortal sins on the criticized writer.
Mr. Bulgakov's statement is a blatant distortion of the truth. In fact, Marx not only noticed this connection between Ricardo's theory of rent and his erroneous doctrine of diminishing fertility of the soil, but also exposed Ricardo's error with complete certainty. Anyone who read volume III of Capital with even a modicum of “attention” could not fail to notice the highly “noteworthy” circumstance that it was Marx who freed the theory of differential rent from any connection with the notorious “law of diminishing returns of the soil.” Marx showed that for the formation of differential rent, the fact of different productivity of different applications of capital to land is necessary and sufficient. It is completely immaterial whether the transition takes place from better land to worse land or, conversely, whether the productivity of additional capital investments in land decreases or increases. In reality, all possible combinations of these different cases occur, and these combinations cannot be subsumed under any single general rule.
So, for example, Marx first describes the differential rent of the first type, arising from the different productivity of capital applications on different plots of land, and explains his presentation with tables (about which Mr. Bulgakov makes a strict reprimand for “Marx’s excessive passion for dressing his – often very simple – thoughts in complex mathematical clothing.” This complex mathematical clothing is limited to the four operations of arithmetic, and very simple thoughts turned out, as we see, completely incomprehensible to the learned professor). Having analyzed these tables, Marx concludes: “Thus, that first incorrect premise of differential rent, which still prevails in West, Malthus 673, Ricardo, falls away, namely, that differential rent necessarily presupposes a transition to worse and worse soil or an ever-decreasing productivity of agriculture.
Differential rent, as we have seen, can take place in the transition to better and better land; differential rent can take place if the lower level is occupied by better soil instead of the former worse one; it may be associated with the growing progress of agriculture. Its condition is solely the inequality of soil types.” (Marx does not speak here of the different productivity of successive investments of capital in land, for this gives rise to differential rent of the second type, and in this chapter we are talking about differential rent of the first type.) “As far as the development of productivity is concerned, differential rent presupposes that an increase in the absolute fertility of the entire agricultural area does not destroy this inequality, but either strengthens it, or leaves it unchanged, or only reduces it” (Das Kapital, III, 2, S. 199). Mr. Bulgakov did not notice this fundamental difference between Marx's theory of differential rent and Ricardo's theory of rent.
But he preferred to find in the third volume of Capital “a passage that makes it more likely to think that Marx’s attitude towards the law of diminishing fertility of the soil was far from negative” (p. 13, note). We apologize to the reader that we will have to devote a lot of space to a completely insignificant (in relation to the issue of interest to Mr. Bulgakov and me) passage. But what do you want to do if the heroes of modern criticism (who still dare to accuse the orthodox of rabulism 674) distort the completely clear meaning of a teaching hostile to them through quotes taken out of context and through distorted translations? Mr. Bulgakov quotes the passage he found as follows: “From the point of view of the capitalist mode of production, there is always a relative rise in price of (agricultural) products, since” (we ask the reader to pay special attention to the words we underline) “to obtain a product a certain expense is made, something must be paid for that was not paid before.”
And Marx says further that the elements of nature that enter into production, as its agents, cost nothing, are the free natural productive force of labor, and if in order to produce an additional product one has to work without the help of this natural force, then it is necessary to spend new capital, which leads to an increase in the cost of production.
We must make three remarks about this way of “quoting.” Firstly, the word “since”, which gives the tirade the absolute meaning of establishing some kind of “law”, was inserted by Mr. Bulgakov on his own. In the original (Das Kapital, III, 2, S. 277–278) it is not “since”, but “if”. If something has to be paid for that was not paid before, then there is always a relative rise in price of the products; Isn’t it true, how similar is this position to the recognition of the “law” of diminishing returns? Secondly, the word “agricultural” was inserted along with parentheses by Mr. Bulgakov. It's not in the original at all. Mr. Bulgakov decided, probably in the manner characteristic of Messrs. critics with frivolity that Marx can only speak here about agricultural products, and hastened to give the reader an “explanation” of a completely wrong nature. In fact, Marx is talking here about all products in general; The passage quoted by Mr. Bulgakov is preceded by the words of Marx: “in general, the following should be noted.”
The gratuitous forces of nature can also enter into industrial production - this is the example given by Marx in the same section on rent of a waterfall, replacing the power of steam for one of the factories - and if it is necessary to produce an additional amount of product without the help of these gratuitous forces, then a relative rise in price of products will always occur. Third, we need to consider the context in which this passage stands. Marx speaks in this chapter about differential rent from the worst cultivated land and examines, as always, two completely equal, absolutely equally possible cases for him: the first case is the increasing productivity of successive applications of capital (S. 274–276) and the second case is their decreasing productivity (S. 276–278). Regarding this last of the possible cases, Marx says: “On the decreasing productivity of the soil with successive applications of capital, see Liebig... 675 But in general the following should be noted” (emphasis added). Follows "translated" Mr.
Bulgakov passage stating that if something is paid for that was not paid before, then there is always a relative rise in the price of products.
We leave it to the reader to judge the scientific integrity of the critic who turned Marx’s remark about one of the possible cases into Marx’s recognition of this case as some kind of general “law.”
And here is Mr. Bulgakov’s final opinion on the passage he found:
“This passage is, of course, unclear...” Well, of course! After Bulgakov’s replacement of one word with another, this passage is even completely meaningless... “but cannot be understood otherwise than as an indirect or even direct recognition” (listen!) “of the law of diminishing soil fertility. I am not aware that Marx anywhere else spoke directly about the latter” (I, 14). As a former Marxist, Mr. Bulgakov “does not know” that Marx directly declared the assumption of West, Malthus, and Ricardo that differential rent presupposes a transition to worse lands or declining soil fertility 676 to be completely incorrect. He “doesn’t know” that Marx, throughout his voluminous analysis of rent, shows dozens of times that he considers the decreasing and increasing productivity of additional capital expenditures as completely equally possible cases!
Mr. Bulgakov did not understand Marx’s theory of rent at all. He is confident that he destroys this theory with the following two objections: 1) According to Marx, agricultural capital enters into the equalization of the rate of profit, so that rent is created by additional profit exceeding the average rate of profit. This is incorrect, according to Mr. Bulgakov, because the monopoly of land ownership eliminates the freedom of competition necessary for the process of equalizing the rate of profit. Agricultural capital is not included in the process of equalizing the rate of profit. 2) Absolute rent is only a special case of differential rent, and distinguishing it from this latter is incorrect. This distinction is based on a completely arbitrary dual interpretation of the same fact - monopoly ownership of one of the factors of production. Mr. Bulgakov is so confident in the crushing power of his arguments that he cannot refrain from a whole stream of strong words against Marx: petitio principii 677, non-Marxism, logical fetishism, Marx’s loss of freedom of mental flight, etc. Meanwhile, both of his arguments are based on a rather gross error.
The same one-sided simplification of the subject, which prompted Mr. Bulgakov to elevate one of the possible cases (a decrease in the productivity of additional capital expenditures) into the universal law of diminishing returns, leads him in this matter to the fact that he operates without criticism with the concept of “monopoly”, elevating this concept into something also universal in its own way, and at the same time confuses the consequences that arise, under the capitalist organization of agriculture, from the limited nature of land, with on the one hand, and from private ownership of land, on the other. These are two different things. Let's explain.
“The condition, although not the source of the emergence of land rent,” writes Mr. Bulgakov, “is the same thing that caused the possibility of monopolization of the land - the limited productive forces of the land and the limitlessly growing human need for them” (I, 90). Instead of: “limited productive forces of the earth,” one should have said: “limitedness of the earth.” (The limitation of the productive forces of the land comes down, as we have already shown, to the “limitation” of a given level of technology, a given state of productive forces.) The limitation of land indeed presupposes, under a capitalist system of society, the monopolization of land, but land as an object of economics, and not as an object of property rights. The assumption of a capitalist organization of agriculture necessarily includes the assumption that all the land is occupied by individual, private farms, but does not at all include the assumption that all the land is in the private property of these owners or other persons, or in private property in general.
The monopoly of land ownership by right of ownership and the monopoly of farming on land are completely different things, not only logically, but also historically. Logically, we can well imagine a purely capitalist organization of agriculture in the complete absence of private ownership of land, when the land is owned by the state or communities, etc. And in reality, we see that in all developed capitalist countries all the land is occupied by individual, private farms, but these farms exploit not only their own, but also the lands of private owners, state lands, and community lands leased by them (for example, in Russia, and at the head of private farms on peasant communal lands are as is known, capitalist peasant farms).
And it is not for nothing that Marx makes the remark at the very beginning of his analysis of rent that the capitalist mode of production finds (and subjugates) the most diverse forms of land ownership, starting from planned property and feudal property and ending with the property of peasant communities.
So, the limited nature of land inevitably presupposes only the monopolization of the economy on land (subject to the dominance of capitalism). The question is, what are the necessary consequences of this monopolization in relation to the question of rent? The limited availability of land leads to the fact that the price of grain is determined by the conditions of production not on average quality land, but on the worst cultivated land. This price of grain will give the farmer (= the capitalist entrepreneur in agriculture) the covering of his production costs and the average profit on his capital. The farmer on the best land receives additional profit, which forms differential rent. The question of whether private ownership of land exists has absolutely nothing to do with the question of the formation of differential rent, which is inevitable in capitalist agriculture, even on communal, state, ownerless lands. The only consequence of limited land under capitalism is the formation of differential rent due to the different productivity of various capital inputs.
Mr. Bulgakov sees a second consequence in the elimination of freedom of competition in agriculture, saying that the absence of this freedom prevents agricultural capital from participating in the formation of average profit. This is a clear confusion of the issue of farming on land with the issue of ownership of land. From the fact of limited land (regardless of private ownership of land), it only logically follows that all the land will be occupied by capitalist farmers, but it does not at all imply the need for any restrictions on the freedom of competition between these farmers. The limitation of land is a general phenomenon that inevitably leaves its mark on all capitalist agriculture. The logical inconsistency of mixing these different things is clearly confirmed by history.
Let’s not even talk about England: in it the separation of land ownership from agriculture is obvious, freedom of competition between farmers is almost complete, the circulation of capital formed in trade and industry in agriculture has been and is taking place on the widest scale. But in all other capitalist countries (contrary to the opinion of Mr. Bulgakov, who is trying in vain, following Mr. Struve, to isolate “English” rent into something completely unique), the same process of separation of land ownership from agriculture is taking place - only in the most different forms (rent, mortgage). Without noticing this process (strongly emphasized by Marx), Mr. Bulgakov, one might say, does not notice the elephant. In all European countries, after the fall of serfdom, we observed the destruction of the estate of land ownership, the mobilization of land ownership, the conversion of commercial and industrial capital to agriculture, the growth of rent and mortgage debt.
And in Russia, despite the greatest remnants of serfdom, after the reform we see an increased purchase of land by peasants, commoners and merchants, the development of leasing of privately owned, state and communal lands, etc., etc. What do all these phenomena indicate? About the creation of free competition in agriculture - despite the monopoly of land ownership and despite the infinitely diverse forms of this property. At present, in all capitalist countries, every owner of capital can as easily, or almost as easily, invest this capital in agriculture (by purchasing or renting land) as in any branch of trade or industry.
Mr. Bulgakov, in his objection to Marx’s theory of differential rent, points out that “all these differences (differences in the conditions of production of agricultural products) are contradictory and can” (emphasis added) “mutually destroy each other - distance, as Rodbertus already pointed out, can be paralyzed by fertility, while different fertility can be equalized by more intensified production in areas of greater fertility” (I, 81). It is in vain that our strict scientist forgets that Marx noted this fact and managed to give it a less one-sided assessment. “It is clear,” writes Marx, “that these two different bases of differential rent, fertility and position” (of land) “can act in opposite directions. A plot of land can be well located and have very little fertility, and vice versa. This circumstance is important, because it explains to us why, when plowing land in a given country, the transition can take place in exactly the same way from better land to worse, as well as vice versa.
Finally, it is clear that the progress of social production in general acts, on the one hand, in a leveling manner on the position” (of land) “as the basis of differential rent, creating local markets, creating a situation through the construction of communication routes; and, on the other hand, increases the differences in the local position of land, both through the separation of agriculture from industry and through the formation of large centers of production, along with the reverse side of this phenomenon: the increase in the relative solitude of the village” (relative Vereinsamung des Landes) (Das Kapital, III, 2, 190). Thus, while Mr. Bulgakov with a victorious air repeats the long-known indication of the possibility of the mutual destruction of differences, Marx raises the further question of turning this possibility into reality and shows that, along with leveling influences, differentiating ones are also observed.
The final result of these mutually contradictory influences is, as everyone knows, that in all countries and everywhere there are enormous differences between land areas in terms of fertility and their position. Mr. Bulgakov's objection only testifies to the complete lack of thought in his comments.
The concept of the last least productive expenditure of labor and capital, Mr. Bulgakov continues to object, “is used equally without criticism by both Ricardo and Marx. It is not difficult to see what element of arbitrariness is introduced by this concept: let 10a of capital be spent on land, and each subsequent a is characterized by diminishing productivity; the total product of the soil will be A. Obviously, the average productivity of each a will be equal to A/10, and if all capital is considered as one whole, then the price will be determined precisely by this average productivity” (I, 82). It is obvious - we will say to this - that Mr. Bulgakov, behind his pompous phrases about the “limitations of the productive forces of the earth,” overlooked a trifle: the limitations of the land.
This limitation - completely independent of any ownership of the land - creates a certain kind of monopoly, namely: since the land is all occupied by farmers, since there is a demand for all the grain produced on all the land, including in the worst and most remote areas from the market, it is clear that the price of grain is determined by the price of production on the worst land (or the price of production at the last, least productive investment of capital). Mr. Bulgakov’s “average productivity” is an empty arithmetic exercise, because the actual formation of this average is hampered by the limited land. In order for this “average productivity” to be formed and determine prices, it is necessary that every capitalist not only be able to apply capital to agriculture at all (to the extent that there is freedom of competition in agriculture, as we have already said), but also that every capitalist can always - in addition to the existing number of agricultural enterprises - found a new agricultural enterprise.
If this were so, then there would be no difference between agriculture and industry, then no rent could arise. But it is precisely the limitations of the land that make this not so.
Let's move on. We have discussed so far completely leaving aside the question of land ownership; we have seen that such a technique is obligatory both due to logical considerations and due to historical data testifying to the emergence and development of capitalist agriculture under all forms of land ownership. Let us now introduce this new condition. Let us assume that all land is privately owned. How will this affect rent? The differential rent will be taken by the landowner, by virtue of his right of ownership, from the farmer; since differential rent is an excess of profit above the normal, average profit on capital, and since there is freedom of competition in the sense of freedom to invest capital in agriculture in agriculture (respective 678 created by capitalist development), the landowner will always find a farmer who is satisfied with the average profit and gives him, the landowner, the excess profit. Private ownership of land does not create differential rent, but only transfers it from the hands of the farmer to the hands of the landowner.
Is the influence of private land ownership limited to this? Is it possible to assume that the landowner will allow the farmer to exploit for nothing the worst and worst located land that gives only an average return on capital? Of course not. Land ownership is a monopoly, and on the basis of this monopoly, the landowner will demand payment from the farmer for this land. This payment will be an absolute rent, having no connection with the different productivity of the various investments of capital, and arising from the private ownership of land. Accusing Marx of an arbitrary double interpretation of the same monopoly, Mr. Bulgakov did not bother to think that we were really dealing with a double monopoly; firstly, we have a monopoly of (capitalist) economics on earth. This monopoly arises from the limited availability of land and is therefore necessary in any capitalist society.
This monopoly leads to the fact that the price of grain is determined by the conditions of production on worse land, and the excess surplus profit brought by the expenditure of capital on better land or by more productive expenditure of capital forms differential rent. This rent arises completely independently of private land ownership, which only enables the landowner to take it away from the farmer. Secondly, we have a monopoly of private land ownership. Neither logically nor historically this monopoly is inextricably linked with the previous one. This monopoly does not represent anything necessary for capitalist society and for the capitalist organization of agriculture. On the one hand, we can fully imagine capitalist agriculture without private ownership of land, and many consistent bourgeois economists demanded the nationalization of land.
On the other hand, we actually encounter a capitalist organization of agriculture in the absence of private land ownership, for example, on state and communal lands. Therefore, it is absolutely necessary to distinguish between these two types of monopolies, and therefore, it is necessary, along with differential rent, to recognize the existence of absolute rent, which is generated by private ownership of land 680.
Marx explains the possibility of the origin of absolute rent from the surplus value of agricultural capital by the fact that in agriculture the share of variable capital in the total composition of capital is higher than average (a completely natural assumption given the undoubted backwardness of agricultural technology compared to industrial technology). If this is so, it follows that the value of agricultural products is generally higher than their price of production, and surplus value is higher than profit. Meanwhile, the monopoly of private land ownership prevents this surplus from entering entirely into the process of equalizing profits, and absolute rent is taken from this surplus 681.
Mr. Bulgakov is very dissatisfied with this explanation and exclaims: “What kind of thing is this surplus value that, like cloth or cotton or any other product, it may or may not be enough to cover possible demand. First of all, it is not a material thing, it is a concept that serves to express a certain social relation of production” (I, 105). This opposition between a “material thing” and a “concept” is a clear example of that scholasticism that is so popular nowadays under the guise of “criticism.” What meaning could the “concept” of a share of the social product have if certain “material things” did not correspond to this concept? Surplus value is the monetary equivalent of the surplus product, which consists of a certain share of cloth, cotton, bread and all other goods. (“Certainty” must be understood, of course, not in the sense that science can specifically determine this share, but in the sense that the conditions that generally determine the size of this share are known.
) In agriculture, the surplus product is greater (in proportion to capital) than in other industries, and this surplus (not included in the equalization of profits due to the monopoly of land ownership) can, naturally, “be enough or not be enough to cover demand” on the part of the monopolist landowner.
We can spare the reader a detailed presentation of the theory of rent that Mr. Bulgakov created, in his own modest remark, “with his own forces,” “going his own way” (I, 111). A few remarks are enough to characterize this product of the “last least productive expenditure” of professorial “labor.” The “new” theory of rent is built on the old recipe: “Call yourself a milk mushroom, get into the back.” Once there is freedom of competition, then there should be absolutely no restrictions on it (although such absolute freedom of competition has never existed anywhere). Once there is a monopoly, the matter is over. This means that rent is not taken at all from surplus value, not even from the agricultural product; it is taken from the product of non-agricultural labor, it is simply a tribute, a tax, a deduction from all social production, a bill of exchange from the landowner. “Agricultural capital with its profit and agricultural labor, agriculture in general, as the area of application of labor and capital, thus constitute status in statu 682 in the capitalist kingdom...
all (sic!) definitions of capital, surplus value, wages and value in general when applied to agriculture turn out to be imaginary quantities” (I, 99).
So. So. From now on, everything is clear: both capitalists and hired workers in agriculture are all imaginary quantities. But if Mr. Bulgakov happens to report like this, then he sometimes argues and is not entirely unreasonable. Fourteen pages later we read: “The production of agricultural products costs society a certain amount of labor; this is their value." Great. This means that at least the “definitions” of value are not entirely imaginary values. Further: “Since production is organized capitalistically, and capital stands in the voice of production, then the price of bread will be determined according to production prices, which means that the productivity of the given application of labor and capital will be taken into account in comparison with the social average.” Wonderful. This means that the “definitions” of capital, surplus value and wages are not entirely imaginary values. This means that freedom of competition (although not absolute) is evident, because without the transfer of capital from agriculture to industry and vice versa, “taking into account productivity in comparison with the social average” would be impossible.
Further: “Thanks to the land monopoly, the price rises above the value, to the limits to which market conditions allow.” Perfect. But where has Mr. Bulgakov seen this, so that tribute, tax, bill of exchange, etc. depended on market conditions? If, thanks to a monopoly, the price rises to the limits allowed by market conditions, then the whole difference between the “new” theory of rent and the “old” is that the author, who went his own way, did not understand, on the one hand, the difference between the influence of limited land and the merger of private ownership of land, and on the other hand, the connection between the concept of “monopoly” and the concept of “the last least productive expenditure of labor and capital.” After this, is it surprising that after another seven pages (I, 120), Mr. Bulgakov has completely forgotten about “his” theory and is talking about “the method of dividing this (agricultural) product between the landowner, the capitalist farmer and agricultural workers”? A brilliant finale to a brilliant critique!
A remarkable result of the new Bulgakovian theory of rent, which has now enriched the science of political economy!
A.V. Lunacharsky. Russian Faust 683
Several months ago I read in the newspapers about the unprecedented ovation caused in Kyiv by Mr. Bulgakov's lecture on Ivan Karamazov 684 . (The lecturer was almost even carried in his arms.) Naturally, I became interested and was happy to give this lecture, which filled the hearts of the audience with enthusiasm.
The lecture made a deep impression on me. Deep and completely negative. And I cannot resist the desire to express a few thoughts about the lecturer’s peculiar statements.
After reading Mr. Bulgakov’s lecture, I involuntarily asked myself the question: what is the reason for its extraordinary success? I confess that I did not find anything essentially new in the lecture. But after taking a closer look at it, I realized what its charm was.
“We Russians have added almost nothing to philosophical literature... but the strength of our people is expressed in artistic images, and in this respect we go ahead of European literature and are a model for it.”
If the Russian public is surprised that Iv. Karamazov can be contrasted with Goethe’s Faust, then Mr. Bulgakov does this “consciously and deliberately” and considers this comparison “completely legitimate”, because he is already “accustomed to valuing his national heritage in comparison with the West.” The German Faust is epistemological, and the Russian is ethical; he suffers, “tormented by his conscience.” “I confess,” says Mr. Bulgakov, “I love and appreciate this feature of the Russian intelligentsia, which, in my opinion, distinguishes it from Western Europe. It gives an aura of martyrdom and moral purity, it excludes complacency and cultural bourgeoisism, it spiritualizes. So sometimes the face of a seriously ill person seems more beautiful, more intelligent, more noble than a healthy, ruddy face.” “A sick conscience, this amazing disease determines the entire character of Russian culture 685. We Russians are languishing with a constant religious and metaphysical thirst,” even “our powerlessness” has its noble root in the same amazing disease that Mr. Bulgakov “loves and appreciates.” Our conscience hurts, “and let it hurt!
- exclaims Mr. Bulgakov, - let it hurt, while we are powerless to teach the “child”, we cannot feed it, while it is “poor and blackened from black misfortune”, until “they hug, do not kiss, do not sing joyful songs.”
So here's the thing. Finally, we were appreciated, our assets were appreciated, and it turned out that we are deliberately kind, that we should be loved and praised for the ways in which we differ from the West.
It is somewhat strange, however, that in the end the conscience should hurt only until “they sing joyful songs,” that is, until they “bark out hosanna,” as the devil puts it 686; when the general hosanna thunders, the Russian intellectual will recover from his “amazing illness”, his face will become less beautiful, intelligent and noble, but more healthy and rosy. Isn't it? Or how do we understand this “for now”? But such an end to Mr. Bulgakov’s lecture goes completely against its content. After all, Eve’s disease. Karamazova is completely different - you can’t cure her with joyful songs! He knows about the touching ending of the story and still “respectfully returns the ticket” 687. Mr. Bulgakov himself did not notice how he replaced Ivan’s worldly sorrow with a civil motive. The “problem of socialism” is indeed resolved by the ending, but the “problem of theodicy”?.. And it is precisely this that torments the Russian Faust. The belief in progress expressed in the last words of the lecture may have nothing to do with theodicy. The great words of Goethe, which Mr. Bulgakov quotes, do not contain a theodicy and do not need it.
And precisely because the problems of the German Faust are all deeply real, and the problem of the Russian Faust is simply the fruit of a sad and painful misunderstanding.
But Mr. Bulgakov objects: “One should not think that this question was asked only by the religious view; it remains also for the atheistic, emphasizing with even greater force the harmony of the future, which, however, is bought by the disharmony of the present.”
Really, this can be taken as a sweet joke. Atheistic theodicy! Very good.
Yes, and “atheists” think that harmony is bought by the disharmony of the present, but they do not at all want to justify this order of things from a moral point of view. If a loving father whips a “Russian boy”, then a problem will arise in the mind of this boy - to justify his father; but if a robber attacks me with the cry “la bourse ou la vie” 688, then I, “buying” life from him, do not at all undertake to justify him. There can be no ethical problem here. In that same Nietzsche, about whom Mr. Bulgakov so decisively judges, he could find a clearly expressed idea that there is and cannot be absolutely nothing in common between spontaneous processes and morality. Positivists do not at all consider the world order to be expedient. “Find the purpose for your existence yourself,” says Nietzsche. Humanity could say: “It’s bad for us, brothers, and it’s very bad on this ball, lost in infinite space, but we must try to get along as best as possible: we can’t rely on anything but our own strength.” Positivists don't want
Sich uber Wolken seinesgleichen dichten 689 .
Mr. Bulgakov has greatly forgotten the foundations of Marxism: “The harmony of socialism,” he says, “is bought here (that is, according to the teachings of Marx) by the victim of the suffering of capitalism. The pains of childbirth are irremovable, therefore, Ivan’s question about the price of this future harmony can be raised with full right and full force,” etc. Why not “can”? Every thinking person asks himself the question “to be or not to be?” But theodicy has nothing to do with it. “The torment is irremovable,” but is this justification or condemnation? - This is a statement of fact. Personality is removable: if the present is pure grief for you, and you don’t see a worthy goal in the future, remove yourself; but by doing this you condemn yourself, not nature. Humanity will endure all the torments and “give birth” to harmony; This is not good, of course, it would be better without pain, but humanity is only slowly changing the foundations of its existence, adapting to the elements and adapting them to itself. That's it. For positivists there is no question here, since they do not allow crude anthropomorphism of moral goals in their idea of nature.
Mr. Bulgakov casually promises to resolve and eliminate this problem through metaphysical and religious synthesis. Well, allow me. This will be the thousand and first solution to an imaginary problem using imaginary means.
From the point of view of a positivist, the problem of the Russian Faust, the problem of theodicy, is a misunderstanding.
However, Mr. Bulgakov formulates it even differently, namely in the form of three such questions:
1 “The question regarding the obligatory nature of moral norms that command one to sacrifice one’s personal welfare and interests to impersonal progress or the good of other people.”
We accept this question, but why not formulate it more simply: “Should I live for goals that lie outside the circle of my personal interests? »
2 “A question regarding what may be called the price of progress, in which the happiness of the future generation is purchased at the expense of the misfortune of the present.”
As a metaphysical question about the moral cost of such an order, it is simply unnecessary: is it moral that lightning sometimes kills people? etc.
The real grain in it is still the same: “Should I live for others, are they and their happiness worth it? »
3 “The question is regarding the future of this humanity, for which so many sacrifices are being made.”
And again, if there is a practical, vital meaning to such a question, then it boils down to the first: “Does the future happiness boil down to sacrifices on my part? »
Is life worth living at all? and if you live, then how - for yourself or for others? This is the healthy grain of Karamazov’s question, which has nothing in common with the problem of theodicy.
Karamazov does not think that one should live for others, because the progress of mankind is a dubious thing, and cannot be considered a reward for the torment of innocent sufferers, but he thinks that one can live “for sticky leaves and the blue sky” 690, and that then “everything is allowed” 691, and one can, giving up on golden distances, try to be a man-god himself.
How will positivists (not the students of Comte, but the students of Nietzsche, the most consistent positivist in ethics) react to these questions and these answers?
Firstly, any question about debt disappears for them by itself. Mr. Bulgakov often uses the expression: “morality of duty and love”; We will keep silent about love for now, since we do not see absolutely any connection between it and duty and remember that even St. Paul contrasted these two moralities 692 - but duty for a positivist is an empty fiction, which often turns, however, into a heavy chain. Shackles are good for a half-beast, but the further you go, the more they burden a person.
A person owes nothing, “everything is allowed” to him. And, of course, we must try to be a man-god, because all time justifies itself
Im Weiterschritten findet er Qual und Gluck 693,
both life and freedom must be won daily.
Hence the solution to questions regarding the future is clear: it is not at all a justification of the present; the present generation is not at all an “evening sacrifice” at the price of which tomorrow’s golden morning is bought, but the conscious and active life of humanity is a purposeful process (or becomes one) - ein Weiterschritten 694. A person is not satisfied, he suffers and creates ideals, he moves forward and, dying, passes on his behests to his children and grandchildren, not for the sake of justifying the world and not because of torment of conscience, but because in the difficult struggle for existence he has developed into a creator and fighter.
Yes, Mr. Bulgakov’s memories of Marxism are unclear, unclear and inaccurate. Where did he see the justification of the present, the purchase of the future? We see there the theory of the struggle of classes for dominance and real happiness. We want to take part in this struggle according to our sympathies.
“Sympathy? Personal interest, you mean? Positivists destroy duty, abandon religion, morality, self-sacrifice! What remains for them - “everything is permitted, except debauchery and callous selfishness”? Da ist der Hund begraben! 695 – Smerdyakov!” But we are not afraid of Smerdyakov.
This is a significant difference between Dostoevsky and Nietzsche, which we will touch on later.
Everything is permitted. And it’s delightful to build the Tower of Babel! Personal interests? Yes, this is our deeply personal interest - this war with the elements and obscurantism, a war not to the stomach, but to death. “Sticky leaves, blue sky”? but there is still creativity! expanding your personality to the limits of the possible.
Social creativity is an instinct, which at higher stages is a conscious justification of personal life, its meaning and charm - the thirst for power over nature, the thirst for an ever-expanding life. A powerful life cannot be selfish, it is too wide for this, it captures others, awakens, calls, it outlines huge things, because the human psyche is more durable and wider than his body. And here it is:
Er wandle so der Erdengang entlang 696
So the Karamazov question, even in this form, in the form of a question of personal life, does not exist, or is resolved by itself in a healthy, creative nature - it exists only for hypochondriacs, decadents who die anyway, either entangled in their own networks, or eliminated by nature. Nietzsche thought so 697.
What is the use of theodicy and all Russian Faustianism here? Victory is not an excuse, not even a goal, but a result. Even if there was no victory ahead (and it is doubtful), then even then one would have to try one’s strength, because there is nothing to be done! either fight or die.
But Mr. Bulgakov assures that the positivists are no less interested than others in seeing that the mysterious chest is finally unlocked. It is better to leave it to the positivists to judge this for themselves.
Now a few words about Mr. Bulgakov’s remarks about Nietzsche and the relatively sick conscience that Mr. Bulgakov “loves” so much.
“I am a son of my time,” says Nietzsche, “let’s say a decadent, but I finally understood this and tried to fight against it. Indeed, nothing worried me more than the problem of decadence... Good and evil are only a manner of solving this problem: if you understand the signs of decline, you will understand morality, you will understand what is hidden under its most sacred names and formulas of value: an impoverished life, a thirst for the end, great fatigue. Morality denies life! »
Dostoevsky was a typical decadent. His “hosanna” passed through the crucible of doubt, but it passed only because love, reconciliation, peace, peace and, mind you, submission to authority - that’s all that his sick, tormented soul longed for. Dostoevsky brilliantly formulated “atheistic criticism”, but recoiled from appropriate ethics, not believing in man! Mr. Bulgakov will say: “I’m saying that this is a matter of faith!” But we are not talking about faith-religion, but about trust in the forces and social instinct of people. Smerdyakov scared Dostoevsky. “You can’t allow everything,” he whispers fearfully, “there Smerdyakov is listening!” Lampe muss einen Gott haben. Smerdyakov muss eine Moral haben" 698. And Dostoevsky does not believe in himself.
Ivan Karamazov may want to live, but until he is 30 years old, he considers his thirst for life “most indecent” 699. Why? Because, you see: “There is no virtue if there is no immortality!” Moreover: “Egoism, even villainy, must be recognized as necessary, the most reasonable and even noblest outcome...” 700 i.e. once debt ceases to weigh heavily on a person. This is where hopeless egoism lies: if “I” is something transitory, if after death there is no reward or punishment, then all that remains is to be a villain! This is how a decadent thinks about a person. It would be indecent to prove in the 20th century that the noblest idealism is possible besides the belief in immortality.
Life and history provide examples in abundance. But Dostoevsky drank into his “hosanna”, like a necessary drug for his torn soul, and painted the devil as scary as possible, “so as not to be deceived.” And what are the novels of the great martyr if not self-defense, not self-purification: - he put his doubts, his blasphemy into the mouths of others and with suffering voluptuousness crucified his own criticism.
Mr. Bulgakov, of course, knows that everything that Dostoevsky says about the inevitable “villainy” of a non-religious person is a bogeyman. And therefore it seems to us very strange the attitude of Mr. Bulgakov towards the great enemy of decadence, towards the great defender of life, towards Fr. Nietzsche.
Having reproached the great sufferer of truth for “emptiness of heart,” Mr. Bulgakov bursts out with the following tirade:
“The mental drama of Nietzsche and Ivan Karamazov is the same - the theory of immoralism is not compatible with the moral needs of the individual. The greatness of Nietzsche's spirit, in my opinion, is expressed precisely in the passion and sincerity of the experience of this drama, which ended tragically - in Nietzsche's madness. There is no other way from Nietzsche’s philosophy and there cannot be.”
There are two huge, monstrous misunderstandings here. Will Mr. Bulgakov tell where he got the information that Nietzsche’s amoralism was painful for him and did not fit with the demands of his moral nature? G. Bulgakov will not say this. This drama exists only in the imagination of Mr. Bulgakov. Let Mr. Bulgakov read Nietzsche's preface to The Joyful Science, then he will see that Nietzsche welcomed his amoralism as liberation, as recovery. “Gratitude flows from this book in an inexhaustible stream, this is the saturnalia of the spirit freed from long oppression” - “hope for health flashed, the intoxication of recovery”, “this is an explosion of joy (Frohlocken) about the resurrected faith in tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.”
In his last work, “Wille zur Macht” 701, Nietzsche was preparing to set forth his positive teaching, and he had never been stronger, more inspired, more joyful!
His anger is the anger of a fighter in a victorious battle.
And the great mind faded away. The reason for this was heredity, the terrible mental tension required to reassess all values, and most importantly, what, in Nietzsche’s opinion, brought Kleist and Hölderlin, and Lessing and Schiller 702 to the grave - the philistine stupidity of their contemporaries. This colossal mind fell in a struggle that surpassed even his strength, his warm heart broke - and now Mr. Bulgakov joins the chorus of those who say to the children: “Look, here is an example for you, he was proud, did not get along with us” and went crazy, and “there was no other way out for him.”
What would Mr. Bulgakov say if some idle speaker, perched on the fresh grave of our wonderful Uspensky 703, spoke: “These are the results of the morality of love and duty: binge drinking, madness, death.”
But Nietzsche's grave is no less dear to us.
“You cannot be happy when everything around you suffers and causes suffering to itself, you cannot be moral when the course of human affairs is determined by violence, deceit, injustice, you cannot even be wise until all humanity competes in the pursuit of wisdom and introduces the individual into life and science in the wisest way.”
“A person cannot live more beautifully than when he is ripe for death, for sacrificing himself in the name of justice and love.”
Who is speaking? This is what Nietzsche says. Therefore, the morality of love was not alien to him? True, the morality of duty was always alien to him. If Mr. Bulgakov takes the trouble to compare Nietzsche’s first works, although “Schopenhauer als Erzieher” 704 with the last “Der Antichrist” 705 (Wille zur Macht), then he will be convinced that by the end of his life Nietzsche came to the same thing, to the idea of culture - only his pessimistic beliefs, his Buddhism, his decadence completely disappeared from him. It is a terrible loss for humanity that Nietzsche’s last, most important book remained unfinished, because he always moved forward, this apostle of truthfulness and courage. But, of course, this is not the place for an apology for Nietzsche. And Nietzsche gave excellent advice to young assistant professors hungry for fame:
“Let's be idealists! If it's not the smartest thing, it's the most practical thing we can do. Let's walk on the clouds, talk with infinity, surround ourselves on all sides with great symbols. Zurzum, boomboom! – excellent advice! Let our breasts raised high be our argument, and our wonderful feelings be our intercessors! »
An illness is an illness, and a sick conscience is a disastrous illness, accompanied by a terrible waste of strength. Nietzsche's goal is to free man from this disease, in which he saw something humiliating and polluting. But Mr. Bulgakov likes this debilitating disease. People are going crazy, close to suicide - nothing! but the face is inspired!
Yes, the child is crying! But what does conscience have to do with it? We didn't make the child cry! When a doctor sees a sick person, he treats him, but is his conscience tormented by the fact that he got sick in the first place? To alleviate suffering it is not even necessary to have compassion. “Compassion can, at a decisive moment, confuse the doctor and tie his deft, rich hands,” says Nietzsche.
If someone beats a defenseless creature, what does my conscience have to do with it? But if I have courage and a sense of chivalry, I will provide protection. But can I hold myself responsible for evil that does not clearly flow from me? And I am not obliged to fight him, and I am by no means obliged to love anyone. We indignantly reject the absurd phrase “love and duty.” Hatred and love are free, they flow from the very essence of the personality, from its sensual nature, and duty is something that comes from the outside, to which a person submits.
Wille zur Macht! and this will should not necessarily be destructive and extremely rarely is. Predators and destroyers are ultimately weak and short-lived because they are alone, but the “knights of the spirit” will endure forever. To be a creator, to realize your personal ideal, to see a blooming life around you, to evoke joyful feelings, love, affection, gratitude and to feel the purposeful and luxurious use of your power - this is happiness... What is happiness? – Nietzsche asks: “The feeling of growing power.”
And this, of course, is most expressed in creativity. This is also the happiness of the second part of Faust, which is inseparable from the first, because both of them provide an answer to the question of illusions and the true foundations of life. Therefore, let your conscience not hurt! We don’t need her spurs to teach the “child”, because we want to find support in him in the struggle, and struggle is our life... To be a man-god! Does this mean being a villain, or a banker, or a virtuous philistine! In all fairness, Nietzsche would say, the egoism of the man-god is as beneficent as a thunderstorm.
We deeply respect Dostoevsky's gift, but we consider him a slanderer of life. We fundamentally disagree with Nietzsche on many things, but we consider him a great, joyful liberator.
The first part of Faust is an epistemological tragedy. Mr. Bulgakov repeats this old inconsistency after many others. But the entire “epistemological tragedy” occupies only part of the first scene of “Faust” and does not appear further throughout the entire tragedy (unless Mr. Bulgakov includes Faust’s distrust of medicine here). But, anyway, what's the matter? After all, “Faust’s affair with Margarita is unnecessary for tragedy and could be given over to any of the minor characters” 706.
The scene in the tavern is obviously a completely unnecessary episode, the scene at the witch is a simple set. In a word, except for the first scene, everything else written by poor Goethe was completely in vain. Only now have my eyes opened. Obviously, “Hamlet” is also an epistemological tragedy: remember: “There are many things, friend Horatio...” 707 well, and the rest is unimportant. Should we really not take Hamlet’s “affair” with Ophelia seriously?
But “Faust” is not an epistemological tragedy, but a tragedy of all human life in its entirety. True, Faust is tormented by the fact that absolute knowledge is inaccessible to him, he curses scholasticism, but he asks in return - life, youth, love! The epistemological tragedy is already over. Here he is, a frail old man, disappointed, broken, whom
Statt der lebendigen Natur Umgiebt im Rauch und
Moder nur Das Thiergeripp und Todtenbein 708
who curses his “dog life” and wants
Von allen Wissensqualm entladen Im Mondscheins
Thau gesund sich baden 709,
but does not have the strength to do this.
And then a miracle returns his strength to him, and he begins a new life, not for the sake of science, but for the sake of complete self-satisfaction. And here begins the tragedy “Faust” - Goethe.
Mr. Bulgakov praises the prologue to heaven. Indeed, this is a wonderful overture to the greatest tragedy, but does it say anything about knowledge? Meanwhile, Goethe himself defines the meaning of his tragedy there:
Der Mensch dient auf besondre Weise,
Nicht irdisch ist des Thoren Trank und Speise,
Ihn treibt die Gahrung in die Ferne,
Er ist sich seiner Tollheit halbbewusst,
Vom Himmel fordert er die schönste Sterne,
Und von der Erde jede schönste Lust
Und alle Nah und alle Ferne
Befriedigt nicht die tiefbewegt Brust 710 .
Eternal dissatisfaction, an eternal impulse, in which the desire for knowledge is only a particularity.
And what is Mephistopheles in the supposed epistemological tragedy? Here is the cry of the soul, or even “both souls” of Faust:
“Oh, fuhrt mich weg su neuem bunten Leben” 711.
This is a thirst for life, power, scope, passion - he wants the best star in the sky and the greatest joy on earth. But Mephistopheles turns his joys into decay, makes his guiding stars fade. Behind the impulse of passion, behind the flight of the creative mind, behind the hot illusion of the human being comes the disintegrating, cold, skeptical, mocking mind, this restless companion. And yet he, this tormentor who pours poison into the cup of joy, is necessary, he pushes a person forever forward. And he goes
Unbefriedigt jeden Augenblick 712 .
What a tragedy, Mr. Bulgakov!
What you consider Faust’s unnecessary “affair” with Margarita is a divine image of the sweet, fleeting illusions of love, its cruel, rude, terrible disappointments. Schopenhauer 713 knew how to understand this.
Mr. Bulgakov considers as superfluous everything that does not fit into the narrow framework of his understanding of Faust. "Unnecessary affair"! Faust should be experienced like the most ordinary professor, and all other tragic experiences can be ceded to “any minor character.”
And to summarize, we will say: the Russian Faust is infinitely lower than the German Faust in terms of the significance and real value of his internal drama; a Russian moralist could learn a lot from a German immoralist; and we need to study a lot, read thoughtfully and, trying to exalt “our own,” carefully monitor whether we are distorting “someone else’s.”
A.I. Bogdanovich. Critical Notes 714
The scientific and journalistic section of the collection touches on a wide variety of issues, but one thing unites them - the modernity of the mood, young and fresh. We will touch only a little to show how the collection meets the interests of our time. Three articles in this regard are especially characteristic: Mr. Bulgakov “Vasnetsov 715”, Dostoevsky, Vl. Soloviev and Tolstoy”, Nikolai Berdyaev “Towards the Philosophy of Tragedy” and Mr. Anichkov 716 “William Morris 717 and his Utopian Novel”.
In his four “parallels,” Mr. Bulgakov raises one of the main questions of our time - about nationality, as it manifests itself in the creativity of the people. In his opinion, “the most tempting source of national self-knowledge is that which is revealed in the works of great spiritual figures who belong to the nationality being studied and who spontaneously reflected its features. The mind involuntarily turns to highlighting what is similar and fundamental, which is characteristic of the creations of national heroes, and in this it sees the quintessence of nationality.” The author considers the unifying principle of the creativity of the four artists and thinkers mentioned above to be the religious desire to seek God. “The religious idea and religious passion define the work of Vasnetsov, who combines an idealist and a realist in the best sense of these words.” “Dostoevsky has the same importance in revealing the religious life and psychology of the Russian people as Vasnetsov does in painting.” The same feeling and the same ideas “are decisive for Vl.’s philosophical activity. Solovyov".
Regarding Tolstoy, there is nothing to say: “It is obvious to the reader how immeasurable the significance of Tolstoy is in the religious and moral life of our and all European society.” Thus, according to Mr. Bulgakov, the national difference, the national characteristic of the Russian people, lies in the religious idea.
The conclusions of the author of this talented and lively article make a strange impression. Not to mention the artificiality of his comparisons, the excessive assessment of, for example, Vasnetsov, a very, very mannered and insincere artist - Mr. Bulgakov goes overboard, almost reaching the point of denying Western European science. So, speaking about Solovyov, Mr. Bulgakov quite unexpectedly bursts out with a tirade that surprised us precisely from his lips: “The ideal of a free theocracy and the revision, criticism and revaluation in the light of this Christian ideal of our current social science, social ideals and public life, this is the most dear testament that Vl. Solovyov and which we must fulfill piously. Here is a topic for Russian sociologists, lawyers and economists; “With this, and not by student rewriting and repeating the books of Western science with all its historical limitations, it is possible to create an independent scientific thought in Russia.”
It is strange to hear speeches there from a political economist professor who owes so much specifically to the Western European scientific spirit and Western science. We think that seeing the main difference between Russian nationality in religiosity is as one-sided as the one-sided fascination of the late Slavophilism with the “originality” of the Russian spirit, designed to reveal the unknown truths of the West. And the “revaluation” of Western science from the point of view of knowledge of special Russian religiosity is already a complete oddity for which we cannot find a name. For any science there is only one criterion - truth, and there are no two truths, and what is true on the other side of the western border cannot be a lie on this side, and vice versa. At one time, all the Slavophil quests for their Russian truth, different from the universal human truth, were considered false; this call for re-evaluation “in the light of the Christian ideal of modern social science” does not ring true. And why should this strange honor belong to Russian scientists?
They are unlikely to create an independent Russian science in this way, since the experience of the past has sufficiently convinced everyone that nationalism, no matter what form it takes, never gives national science. What did the Slavophiles do in the scientific field? Nothing. Everything that the Russian people can be proud of in science was done by people who rose above the party hatred of Slavophilism and Westernism. And this is very understandable. Any exclusivity, deliberate narrowing of mental horizons inevitably leads to narrowness, one-sidedness, pettiness, in a word, to principles that are not tolerated by free scientific research, which takes into account only the truth. In general, Mr. Bulgakov “went overboard,” as they say. In some places, the tone of his article is so casually defiant that one feels embarrassed for the author. “The philosophical thought of Germany during the 19th century served,” as he assured, “at the beck and call of natural science”; “cheap natural science positivism” – what kind of language is this?! It is “unbecoming and inappropriate” for a professor to express himself in the language of the cheap street press about subjects of paramount scientific importance.
However, we are sure that, as a man of science, Mr. Bulgakov himself will not go in the proposed direction, but was simply carried away by the scheme he constructed. One thing is certain in his article, this is the revival of religious feeling he notes over the last quarter of the last century in Russian society, which has long been accepted as a fact in relation to the West, where religious sentiment has declared a mortal struggle for the philistinism.
A.I. Bogdanovich. Critical Notes 718
At the very end of last year, a collection of articles with moral, philosophical and sociological content appeared under the general, significant title “Problems of Idealism.” Over the past few years, this is not the first attempt to mark in one way or another that new desire for idealism, which undoubtedly leaves a very, very noticeable feature in the mood of modern society. We will not talk about Mr. Volynsky’s pale and poor-in-content book 719 “The Struggle for Idealism,” in which there was very little idealism and a lot of avid struggle with various opponents of this unrecognized fighter for idealism. But we cannot help but point out Mr. Berdyaev’s article “The Struggle for Idealism,” which appeared on the pages of our magazine two years ago and which for a long time served as the subject of malicious attacks on the author and on the magazine from both positivists and orthodox supporters of Marxism. No less fury was then aroused by Mr. P.B.’s short article “On the Question of Morality,” which touches on the same issues mainly from the ethical side.
In the collection we encounter the same names and the same questions, but the formulation of the latter is both deeper and broader. United by a common skillful editorship, the questions and tasks of idealism in the collection represent a kind of “idealistic platform”, in which a program for a new direction is given. We will probably have to return to it more than once, but for now we will try to acquaint readers with only some of the ideas raised in the collection, because it is impossible to cover all the richness of the collection’s content in a quick journal article.
“The peculiarity of this new direction,” says the editor of the collection, Mr. Novgorodtsev, “is that it, being an expression of some eternal need of the spirit, at the same time arises in connection with the deep process of life, with a general desire for moral renewal. But all forms of life now seem to be no longer a simple requirement of expediency, but a categorical dictate of morality, which puts at the forefront the beginning of the unconditional meaning of the individual.” These words correctly indicate the starting point of the modern revival of idealism, which sharply distinguishes the idealistic impulses of our days from the previous foggy, vague idealism, which was the expression of an indefinite mood, very far from current reality. We think that the very hostility with which we previously encountered idealism and the echoes of which are still heard in disputes about it, is based on this alienation of the former idealism from life and its topicality.
The supporters of that idealism were themselves greatly guilty of this, since they especially emphasized their alienation from the practice of life and vehemently attacked everything that seemed to them a profaning intrusion of the “street” into the pure and bright palaces of idealism, be it in the field of the arts, or ethics, or philosophy. The idealist seemed to us standing aloof from the fierce struggle of the current day, with his eyes fixed on the heights above the stars, and contemptuous indifference to the dirt of everyday life, in which so much of the purest blood was shed. And we could not forgive him for this. But the attitude of those forces that had hitherto been fighting in the arena of life has changed radically. If in the old idealism there was an aristocratic attitude towards life and a desire to find a cozy refuge from its adversities, then the modern incentive for idealism is completely different: a passionate desire to find support in the struggle, which now requires different incentives than before. The goal of the struggle has not changed, and the attitude towards it has not changed, but something has changed within the forces fighting in the name of this goal.
And now the suffering of the people, the good of humanity, the struggle for the rights of the working masses serve as the center of life and have not lost any of their importance for the fighters. But a modern figure has a different understanding of both the struggle for them and his attitude towards it. He can no longer act in her name, prompted by only one incentive - to pay off his debt to the people. Previously, the personality, squeezed into the framework of duty to the people, was distorted in its very essence and perished without fulfilling everything that was possible within it, which is why the duty to the people itself suffered no less. A modern leader, embarking on the same path of struggle, is drawn in this direction, first of all, by a comprehensive moral consciousness that he cannot live otherwise, since all aspects of his moral personality cannot be satisfied until those new higher forms of life are realized that merge with his ideal, are suggested by it and find their justification in it. Only under this condition does his integrity, as a complete personality, receive the highest value in his eyes, in the name of which he enters into the struggle.
Something else very important has also changed. As broad strata enter the arena of struggle, as the movement captures wider circles of society and the people, the insufficiency of dry formulas that reduce everything, so to speak, to the partial gains of tomorrow begins to be felt more and more. One feels the need for a broad perspective, faith in something higher and further than questions about wages, about insurance against illness and old age, etc. At one time, Marxism finally settled with social utopianism, and this was a huge step forward, leading to brilliant achievements in the field of practical problems and creating a huge social movement, the influence of which affects all areas of life. But then the lack of a utopian element and practicality, so to speak, began to undermine the movement itself, which seemed to have lost its soul, and hence the revival of idealism, the desire for higher moral tasks. “This is not about that,” as Mr.
Bulgakov in the first article of the collection “Main problems of the theory of progress”, in order to give in or lower at least one of the practical demands of the modern social movement, but to return to it moral strength and religious enthusiasm, to raise it to the height of the moral task.” For a new person rising to the surface from the “bottom of life”, the whole “truth of truth”, which “is the God of a free man,” is needed as solid as a rock. The desire for this God distinguishes new generations, coming from the very depths of people's life, who need faith, and they carry it with them. Thus, the disappointment of the intelligentsia in positivism and the desire for idealism goes against the flow from the people's environment. Of course, we now dare to outline only in the most general terms this mutual desire for a merger, which is just beginning and it is difficult to foresee what it will bring in the future.
The collection provides a lot of very valuable, although somewhat difficult to digest, material for understanding the idealistic mood that is increasingly gripping modern man. The collection begins with the aforementioned article by Mr. Bulgakov, which examines the theory of progress and indicates the need for significant amendments to the positive theory of progress. The author proceeds from the position that “man cannot be satisfied with one exact science, which positivism thought to limit him; the needs of metaphysics and religion are irreducible and have never been eliminated from human life. Exact knowledge, metaphysics and religion must be in some harmonious relationship with each other, the establishment of such harmony is the task of philosophy of each time. The theory of progress of positivism sought to “absorb both metaphysics and religious faith, or rather, it wants to be a trinity of science, metaphysics and religious teaching.”
Like any religion, according to Mr. Bulgakov, the theory of progress also has its “belief that one day its aspirations will be fulfilled, its religious thirst will be quenched, its religious ideal will be realized.” The difference is that the positive theory of progress “wants to instill confidence in the undoubted advent of this future kingdom through scientific means,” and such insight into the future is attributed to sociology, which explains the extraordinary importance attached to this science in the 19th century. Objecting to the possibility of foresight, finding that “omniscience is beyond the power of man,” the author, however, makes the necessary reservation, “that humanity will never stop thinking about tomorrow and introduces into its ideas about it the understanding of the present and yesterday that social science gives. In the same way, no one can do without making a certain judgment, on the basis of common sense and scientific experience, not only about the present, but also about the near future, for which each of us works.
If we call this a prediction, then making predictions about the future in this sense is the right and duty of every conscious person.”
Analyzing ideas and theories about the future progress of mankind, Mr. Bulgakov has a negative attitude towards them and in conclusion comes to the conclusion - to believe “that our moral actions and thoughts have no passing significance.” “We need conviction in the existence of an objective moral world order, a kingdom of moral goals, in which our humble life will find its place.” This central point of the article, unfortunately, is very poorly substantiated, and Mr. Bulgakov does not provide anything as proof except the need for faith. As much as he powerfully and wittily proves the weakness of positive faith in progress, he is equally unproven on this point, ending almost with evidence from Scripture. Therefore, we do not think that the positive part of his article will confirm much, his readers’ faith in general and in particular will convince them that Mr. himself is right.
Bulgakov, according to whom, our participation in the modern social struggle “will not be motivated by class egoistic interest, but will be a religious obligation, an absolute order of the moral law, the command of God.”
If the scientific faith in the progress of mankind, which encourages us to work in a certain direction with enthusiasm and an ardent desire to make our contribution to the common cause of improvement, cannot be justified, then the faith of Mr. Bulgakov is even less justified. He himself admits this, saying that “the classic formula for the psychology of faith in this sense is the words of the Gospel story: I believe, Lord, help my unbelief.” But what about those who are not given the good fortune to believe? But in our time (as before) there are quite a few of them. For them, the scientific theory of progress, in any case, gave and continues to give many noble incentives to struggle in the name of good, which, by the way, is the great significance of this theory, which is now so sharply overthrown by Mr. Bulgakov. We don’t think that many will be attracted by Mr. Bulgakov’s sermon.
The mystical coloring of his idealism par excellence 720 is likely to repel them, since too much is recalled in this case from the past, from the fires of the Inquisition to the expulsion of philosophers and scientists from the university for “unbelief”, since they dared to deviate from the prescribed pattern of faith. The mysticism of Mr. Bulgakov, his strange attitude towards science - we are afraid to say, contemptuous, which is very felt in his emphasized opposition of science and faith - his preaching about the need for suffering for moral improvement (“Suffering is necessary for man. The “Cross” is a symbol of suffering and sanctification”), all this sounds so strange to us, people of the 20th century, and involuntarily evokes reminiscences of something distant, seemingly forever buried past. True, he stipulates every now and then that he does not renounce anything, that “positive science has a completely definite and, moreover, enormous significance; it is at the present time, one might say, the sine qua 721 of moral action.” And then there is the subordination of science to faith, the powerlessness of science, and so on...
We imagine that both of these areas should be completely independent, and modern idealism cannot disdain science, subordinate it to anything, see in it something like a “handmaiden of theology.” Any encroachment of idealism on science will kill it radically and irrevocably, since we can no longer stop thinking scientifically and do not want to. That is why the mystical coloring of Mr. Bulgakov’s entire article (and not only this, but almost all of his recent works; let us recall his article in Literary Affairs, which we had to talk about in the June “Critical Notes” of last year; see also below “From Russian Journals”) makes its appearance in this collection strange. It is not so much the content as the “mood” that makes this article stand out from the rest. We would be less surprised if we met it on the pages of the “New Way”, next to the “verbs” of Messrs. Merezhkovsky, Minsky 722, Rozanov, than with those authors about whom we will talk now.
A.A. Bogdanov. New Middle Ages 723
Before proceeding to the analysis and criticism of the theory of progress, 724 the venerable economist tries to prove the complete legitimacy and necessity of those points of view - metaphysical and mystical - from which he intends to proceed in his presentation. According to Mr. Bulgakov, this is irrefutably proven by the fact that in reality no one can do without these points of view, and consciously or unconsciously everyone eventually comes to them. Let us present the basic formulation of Mr. Bulgakov regarding the universality of metaphysical thinking.
“All these schools (anti-metaphysical - A.B.), in essence, do not deny metaphysics, but only the known conclusions and known methods of metaphysical thinking. But they cannot thereby abolish metaphysical questions, just as with the development of science the questions about goblins and goblins, or the question about the elixir of life, or about the alchemical production of gold, etc., were abolished.
On the contrary, all these schools, even those denying metaphysics, have their own answers to its questions. In fact, if I pose a question about the existence of God or about the essence of things (Ding an sich 725) or about free will, and then answer these questions negatively, then I do not destroy metaphysics at all; on the contrary, I thereby recognize it, recognizing the legitimacy and necessity of posing these questions that do not fit within the framework of positive knowledge” (pp. 3–4).
Mr. Bulgakov is probably not unaware that there is a doctrine called spiritualism, a doctrine whose adherents consider it at least a science, and even higher than science. Applying the logic of Mr. Bulgakov, these adepts could say approximately the following: “Modern scientists and philosophers, when they have to raise questions about spirits and mediums, usually answer these questions in the negative. But by this they in no way destroy spiritualism; on the contrary, they thereby recognize it, recognizing the legitimacy and necessity of raising these questions that do not fit within the framework of positive knowledge.” Assuming that Mr. Bulgakov has not yet reached such a point of view, we, however, doubt that he could have anything to object to such an argument, except perhaps pointing out that this is plagiarism from his article. In general, it seems to us to be highly unfounded to consider the historical presence of certain questions in people’s heads as sufficient proof of their universal obligatory nature, their transhistorical universality.
But there is another mistake here. Mr. Bulgakov should have known that since the time of Kant it is no longer customary to consider any given philosophical question as a real question that needs to be answered. There are questions that are such only in grammatical form, and not in logical and factual content, questions that are contradictory, meaningless or illusory. G. Bulgakov should also know that the newest anti-metaphysical schools look at metaphysical questions in exactly this way - they consider them partly illusory, like demonological questions, partly empty and contradictory. Thus, analyzing the question of the “essence of things,” Mach 726 leads it to the following formulation: this is the question of the remainder that is obtained when all the elements from which it is composed are taken away one by one from a real fact, so that nothing remains. Mach's conclusion is this: “The essence of things” is a word without a concept. Is such an answer really a “recognition of the legality and necessity” of the question of substance?
As can be seen from the above quote, even in the psyche of Mr. Bulgakov himself, metaphysical questions are mysteriously associated with questions about goblin and brownies. We are inclined to think that this fact has serious reasons.
Getting ready to begin a metaphysical-mystical study of the modern theory of progress, Mr. Bulgakov considers it necessary to outline the “mechanical worldview” that underlies it:
“...According to this view, mechanical causality reigns in the world. Beginning unknown when and where, and perhaps existing from eternity, our world develops according to the law of causality, covering both dead and living matter, both physical and mental life. In this dead movement, devoid of any creative thought and rational meaning, there is no living principle, but only a certain state of matter; there is no truth and error - both are equally necessary consequences of equally necessary causes; a thread of good and evil, but there are only states of matter corresponding to them” (p. 7).
This is a truly monstrous worldview. For him, “there is no truth and error,” and yet, in spite of all logic, both exist for him and are even necessary, as “a consequence of necessary causes.” For him, “there is no good and evil,” but there are only “states of matter corresponding to them,” that is, to these non-existent facts. No wonder that after this, on p. 8, Mr. Bulgakov is horrified: “Even the most pessimistic systems pale before the chilling horror of this view...” What’s worse!
But in vain Mr. Bulgakov was so frightened. His night terrors are the product of his own imagination. The “mechanical worldview,” even in that old and rather primitive form in which the venerable economist presents it to the reader (he refers to Holbach 727), never denied the existence of good and evil, truth and error, but only denied their absolute character, seeing in them not independent elements, but combinations and relationships. In the same way, it did not sacrifice the World to “absolute chance,” as it says on p. 8 Mr. Bulgakov, because he considered “chance” in general to be only a complex and unclear causal combination, and he unconditionally rejected “absolute” chance.
Having thus acquainted the reader with the essence of the “mechanical worldview,” Mr. Bulgakov finds that he has sufficiently prepared the ground and can begin to present the theory of progress that is part of this worldview.
“But it is curious that mechanical philosophy is unable to fully sustain the consistent development of its principles, and ends up trying to fit teleology into its framework, to recognize the ultimate triumph of reason over irrational causality, just as this is presented in philosophical systems based on a completely opposite principle. This flight from one’s own philosophical principles is expressed in a tacit or open recognition of the fact that at a certain stage of world development this same causality creates the human mind, which then begins to organize the world in accordance with its own rational goals. This victory of reason over the irrational principle does not occur immediately, but gradually, and the collective mind of people united in society conquers more and more dead nature, learning to use it for their own purposes; Thus, the dead mechanism gradually gives way to rational expediency, its complete opposite.
You have already learned that I am talking about the theory of progress, which forms a necessary part of all the teachings of the modern mechanical worldview.
If we agree, following Leibniz, to call the revelation of the highest reason, the highest purposiveness in the world, a theodicy, then we can say that the theory of progress is a theodicy for the mechanical worldview, which, obviously, man cannot do without. Next to the concept of evolution, aimless and meaningless development, the concept of progress, teleological evolution is created, in which causality and the gradual disclosure of the purpose of this evolution coincide until complete identification, just like in the mentioned metaphysical systems. So, both teachings - about mechanical evolution and about progress - no matter how different they may be in their conclusions, are connected with each other by a necessary internal, if not logical, then psychological connection” (pp. 8–9).
Such is this theory, “constituting a necessary part of all modern teachings of a mechanical understanding of the world.” The further presentation of Mr. Bulgakov is devoted to clarifying its various shortcomings. This clarification, unfortunately, is incomplete: Mr. Bulgakov did not indicate the biggest, in our opinion, shortcoming, which is that the “theory of progress” he outlined does not exist at all in the “modern mechanical worldview,” of which, according to Mr. Bulgakov, it constitutes a necessary part.
Darwinism and Marxism, these “modern teachings of a mechanical worldview,” never created or recognized such “teleological evolution, in which causality and the gradual revelation of the purpose of this evolution coincide until complete identification, just like” in the airy constructions of metaphysics. Scientific theories of progress explore the question of for what reasons and in what ways progress occurs, and in what direction it can go; but they never allowed themselves to assert that the causal chain of phenomena and the line of progress “coincide to the point of complete identification”; they never confused “teleological evolution” with the real historical process “just as” metaphysicians do. Outlining possible forms of progress and its necessary conditions, the scientific theory of progress never prejudges the question of whether this progress will inevitably occur, and whether these conditions must necessarily be present; These are questions of fact, questions of specific historical relationships.
Mr. Bulgakov obviously confuses Darwin with Nacheli, and Marx with naive optimists, like, for example, Mr. Berdyaev. Darwinism says: if sufficient conditions are present, natural selection will produce an adaptation; if not, then he will eliminate the unadapted form. Marxism says: if sufficient social forces manage to emerge, then society will be transformed in such and such a way; if not, then it degrades. Where is “the complete identification of causality with the revelation of the purpose of this evolution”?
Both the Darwinist and the Marxist may assume on the basis of certain data, or even simply believe by the force of feeling, that progress, as they understand it, will actually occur; but they will never confuse their assumption with the objective regularity of facts, or their faith with scientific theory. And if Mr. Bulgakov triumphantly finds bad metaphysics in the scientific theory of progress, it is because he himself put it there.
We do not at all claim that Mr. Bulgakov deliberately distorts the criticized views. No, the point here, obviously, is that he cannot get out of the framework of metaphysical-mystical forms of thinking and colors even scientific theories with them, and it is natural that these latter radically change their appearance and turn out to be “just like” metaphysical ones. The following passage is typical from this point of view:
“...Let us thus cede to the theory of progress all the scientificity that it claims to have. Still, is this theory capable of satisfying those who seek in it a firm refuge, a basis for faith, hope, and love? (p. 15). We could give Mr. Bulgakov millions of quotes from ancient and modern poets to prove that love is a matter of feeling (and not of scientific theory); but it is unlikely that we will be able to convince him, because he cannot help but confuse science with religion, and he understands religion in the most Catholic, even super-Catholic spirit, as can be seen, for example, from the following passage of his article:
“...For a truly religious person, his entire life, from large to small, is determined by his religion, and thus there is nothing that is religiously indifferent” (p. 5).
If we were talking about a writer less Catholic-minded than Mr. Bulgakov, then we would try to find out to him that scientific theory actually provides a basis for practical activity, precisely in the sense that it indicates the most appropriate means for achieving the goals once set by people, and provides, perhaps, a “base” for hope, if it can state the feasibility of these goals; but it has no direct relation to faith (in the religious sense) and love (in all senses): these are not its areas.
The entire mental life of a person, in all its manifestations, comes down to three main points: first of all, direct perception and feeling, then cognition, and finally action. A person perceives certain harmful or beneficial influences and experiences a feeling - suffering or pleasure. Feeling draws him to action, but in conscious life, between one and the other, there appears an intermediate moment of cognition, the moment when, on the basis of previous experience, the most appropriate form of action under given conditions is developed. A person directly feels a need, and having found out, through cognitive activity, a way to satisfy it, he satisfies it through an act of will, turning into muscular movements.
The process of development of the psyche leads to the fact that these three moments are increasingly differentiated, less and less mixed up in cognition, and the strength and vital significance of each of them increases. When an element of reflection and knowledge is mixed with direct sensation, this sensation becomes vague, unclear and less intense; when this alien element is eliminated, the immediate sensation reaches the greatest possible intensity and clarity, and leads most quickly and surely to subsequent moments. When an element of immediate feeling or practical striving is mixed into the act of cognition, cognition loses clarity and becomes unreliable; it is then “illogical.” When cognition is mixed into an act of will, when a person, while acting, at the same moment reflects on how to act, and whether he is doing what is appropriate, then the action becomes uncertain, indecisive and achieves the goal much less, or does not achieve it at all.
For a person, the greatest completeness and harmony of life is possible only when at the moment of feeling he completely surrenders to feeling, at the moment of cognition - to cognition, at the moment of action - to action. Then the energy of strong feeling will completely transform into the energy of pure knowledge, and then into the energy of steady action. These moments can change within an insignificant fraction of a second - but each of them must be whole, otherwise we are not faced with a powerful, harmoniously unfolding life, but a miserable, half-hearted existence.
But the complete distinction between the three moments is only an ideal, and in most cases a person still acts precisely as a half-hearted, disharmonious being: he feels cautiously, he considers many things to be true because he likes it, because he wants it to be the truth, he acts doubtingly. Hybrid, intermediate forms predominate in life. Whole vast areas of the worldview of various social groups and individuals have this character. All mysticism and all metaphysics have precisely this meaning: these are undifferentiated forms in which knowledge has not yet completely freed itself from will and emotion and bears their coloring. Here a person recognizes something as truth not because it follows from his experience and is proven by experience, but because a person wants it to be so, because he is pleased to consider it as truth.
The enormous vital significance of criticism lies mainly in the fact that it frees knowledge from the oppression of elements alien to it, and thereby facilitates not only its development, but also the development of feeling and will, which suffers from the admixture of elements of knowledge 729 with them.
In a real, scientific theory of progress, contrary to the presentation of Mr. Bulgakov, there is no place for elements of feeling - faith, love. Therefore, it is obvious that the analysis and criticism carried out by Mr. Bulgakov on what he calls the “theory of progress” cannot interest us: this is a family matter between himself and his own mystical-metaphysics. We will cite only one typical passage that characterizes all the confusion that results from the venerable author when he operates with scientific and philosophical concepts alien to him:
“The gratifying confidence that everything good and reasonable will ultimately triumph and be invincible has no basis in a mechanical worldview: after all, everything here is an absolute accident, why won’t the same chance that today exalted reason tomorrow drown it, and which today makes knowledge and truth expedient, tomorrow will not make ignorance and error equally expedient? Or does history not know the collapse and death of entire civilizations? or does it indicate correct and continuous progress?.. (p. 16).
But the essence of the matter is precisely that abstract scientific theories, including the theory of progress, are not at all concerned with instilling in people “pleasant confidence,” as Mr. Bulgakov attributes to them. Active people draw gratifying confidence in victory from the consciousness of their own strengths and the aesthetic perception of the picture of the unfolding life struggle; people, alien to connections with the most living life and who do not feel firm support within themselves, seek such “pleasant confidence” in the “quackery and charlatanism” of helpful optimistic metaphysics. Neither the “collapse and death of civilizations” nor the absence of “correct and continuous progress” in any way contradict the scientific theory of progress, which, to use Marx’s expression, is primarily transhistorical, which speaks about the direction and conditions of progress, but not about whether it is inevitable in each given case.
But this theory is completely contradicted by Mr. Bulgakov’s idea that “absolute chance” (by which he means, as we have seen, historical necessity) can, instead of truth and knowledge, make ignorance and error “just as expedient.” The fact is that from the point of view of modern theories of progress, the main characteristic of truth and knowledge lies precisely in their social expediency (Mr. Bulgakov should have known, for example, Simmel 730). Therefore, ignorance and error can never become “as expedient,” but must always turn out to be socially inexpedient, and their actual dominance means the degradation of society, which essentially does not contain “expediency.”
So, all the contradictions in which Mr. Bulgakov gets entangled arise from a systematic mixture of scientific and philosophical forms of thinking, which are familiar to the venerable author, but alien, and mystical-metaphysical forms, which are familiar and close to him. How completely these latter possess it, the reader could already see from Mr. Bulgakov’s previous article 731, where the venerable author expresses hope for the transformation of knowledge into theosophy, social life into theosophy, and the social system into theocracy. Let's give a few more examples from the article on the theory of progress.
“...There are no irreligious people, but there are only pious and wicked people, righteous and sinners...” (p. 4).
“...All the sophistications of positivists to present morality as a fact of natural development (and thereby undermine its holiness by equating it with all other natural needs, such as hunger, sexual reproduction, etc.), concern only individual forms, special expressions of morality, but...” and so on. (p. 30).
We will not dwell on the logic in the last saying (to study development means to undermine holiness), but the tone... After all, this is the tone of an inquisitor who reads in the hearts of heretics. What should a “wicked sinner”, a “positivist” feel when reading Mr. Bulgakov’s menacing incriminations? Until now, Mr. Bulgakov limited his repressions to quoting with pleasure from Dostoevsky’s description of hellish torment 732, but... How long will this satisfy the moral indignation of the venerable metaphysician against the positivists? What's next?
To answer this question is to make a prediction; but the question of predictions was developed in such detail by Mr. Bulgakov in his latest works, starting with the book “Capitalism and Agriculture” 733 that we cannot help but take into account his views in this area.
Mr. Bulgakov divides predictions into three categories. When people from the camp unsympathetic to Mr. Bulgakov “precisely determine the onset of future events,” indicating the “point of space and time,” then this is “quackery and quackery” 734 (it is interesting to know what predictions of Marx Mr. Bulgakov had in mind when referring to him with these kind expressions?). If people in the same camp try to outline the likely results of the current trends, then this is “a common place, a game of the mind, devoid of serious meaning” (“Theory of Progress”, p. 12). If, finally, Mr. Bulgakov himself does the same thing, then this is “a kind of impressionism, not so much scientific as artistic synthesis, which has subjective persuasiveness, but is convincingly unprovable with complete clarity...” (p. 14) 735. We do not dare to express claims to an “artistic synthesis” similar to the synthesis of the venerable economist, and we have no doubt that, at best, our predictions will be classified by Mr. Bulgakov in the second category.
But we believe that to state actually emerging trends means to state facts, and to draw conclusions about the future based on these facts, since we have no reason to expect an immediate cessation of the trends found, means to draw probable conclusions about the future. In addition, for the reader who is inclined to classify predictions precisely from the point of view of their fulfillment or non-fulfillment, we remind you that the predictions of Russian “disciples” have already been fulfilled more than once, both regarding the development of this or that social class, and regarding the appearance on the stage of certain ideological movements, and even - which at the moment has special significance for us - regarding the evolution of this or that ideologist (as was the case at least in relation to the most serious and major writer of the ex-Marxist currents).
M.B. Ratner. Problems of idealism in Russian literature 736
In the previous chapter I tried to throw light on the reasons for the emergence of a new trend in Russian social thought 737; I further showed that this trend suffers from a tendency to identify idealism and metaphysics; and, finally, he posed the question: will our newest representatives of metaphysical idealism be able to achieve, with the help of a new worldview, a better justification for the old social ideal they share? Turning to resolve this issue, first of all, to Mr. S. Bulgakov’s article “The Main Problems of the Theory of Progress,” I must note that this work is distinguished by the merits of a purely external nature. Beautiful literary language, sometimes not devoid of elegant imagery, the sincerity of the author felt in every line, sometimes reaching the power of true animation - all these are qualities of undoubted value. Unfortunately, the internal content of the work, taken from the point of view of scientific validity and logical persuasiveness, leaves much to be desired.
Perhaps this is not a simple accident, but a natural consequence of the author’s new worldview... But the content of the article is so broad that it rightfully occupies the first place in the collection. Within the framework of a relatively private issue - the theory of progress - Mr. Bulgakov set out to resolve the struggle between two main types of worldview - precisely scientific, positive, on the one hand, and metaphysical-religious, on the other. The task is important and difficult. How did Mr. Bulgakov accomplish it?
In full accordance with the main goal of his work, Mr. Bulgakov begins with a critique of the established Og. Comte of the “imaginary” law of three states, according to which humanity moves in its development from a theological understanding of the world to a metaphysical one, and from the metaphysical to a positive or scientific one. The author, who is currently proceeding from an idealistic and, moreover, metaphysical-religious worldview, naturally sees both the picture of the development of human thought sketched in Comte’s law and the relationship between the three types of thinking established in this law as incorrect. What, however, is Mr. Bulgakov’s own view of the possible relationship of elements in this area? It cannot be said that the author’s view expressed in the article is sufficiently stable. On the one hand, Mr. Bulgakov is not inclined to encroach on the value of accurate knowledge. “Positive science,” he is ready to admit, “has a completely definite and, moreover, enormous significance” (41).
Its only drawback is that it studies “scraps of reality,” which is why the need arises for metaphysical-religious thinking, which is thus absolutely necessary along with accurate knowledge (2–4). Until now, obviously, we are talking about recognizing the equality of all three types of thinking, between which Comte wished to establish a chronological and, moreover, mutually exclusive relationship. It would, however, be wrong to present Mr. Bulgakov’s views on the meaning of science, metaphysics, and religion in such a harmless form. Of course, Mr. Bulgakov does not dare to raise his pen to undermine the authority of modern scientific knowledge in all its, so to speak, completeness and inviolability. But in a roundabout way and in a disguised form, he partially fulfills this venerable task.
Thus, pointing out that the resolution of a whole series of questions that are beyond the power of modern scientific meaning, “lies in the field of metaphysical thinking, which thus defends its rights along with (my italics, as below) with positive science, he, however, continues: “The competence of metaphysics is greater than that of positive science, both because metaphysics solves questions more important than questions of experimental knowledge, and because, using speculation, it gives answers to questions that are beyond the power of experimental science” (3). An even more valuable source of knowledge, in his opinion, is religion, which draws its basis from faith. According to his definition, “faith is a way of knowing without evidence, communicating things that are hoped for, revealing things unseen, according to the excellent description of it by the Apostle Paul.
The circle of what is accessible to faith is wider than the circle of what is accessible to discursive thinking: one can even believe in something that not only has not been proven, but cannot be made completely understandable to reason; the knowledge that faith gives is richer and broader than that given by experimental science and metaphysics: if metaphysics breaks the boundaries of experimental knowledge, then faith destroys the boundaries of the intelligible” (5-6). Let us recall here the teachings of Jacobi 738, Fichte of the second period, etc., especially the profound theory of knowledge of Vl. Solovyova (5–6). Before paying tribute to this passage, which is extremely characteristic of the Russian neo-idealist pen, it is necessary to clear the question of one misunderstanding. It turns out that from the point of view of Mr. Bulgakov, “metaphysics” has advantages over “positive science”, as a discipline that uses “speculation”. In other words, speculation is declared to be the exclusive method of metaphysical research and thinking. But what is metaphysics and what is speculation? and is there a relation of exclusive connection between them? Unfortunately, Mr.
Bulgakov, operating on a number of concepts that admit of heterogeneous definitions, never gives the latter. But the definition of metaphysics is clear: it is the knowledge of what lies beyond the world of phenomena, on the other side of experience. As for speculation, from the now recognized philosophical predecessor and like-minded person of our metaphysical Marxists - Mr. Chicherin 739 - we find the following definition of it: “We must consider speculative everything that lies in the very method of action of the cognizing mind and what follows from it... The methods of action of the mind in the knowledge of things have been known for a long time and are recognized by everyone: this is analysis and synthesis. Whatever theory of knowledge we adhere to, the fact is that the mind decomposes the impressions it receives and puts them back together, raising them to general concepts. Consequently, we must recognize as speculative everything that lies in the very act of addition and decomposition, regardless of the content” 740.
In other words, by speculation we should understand that independent activity of consciousness, which, as I showed in the previous chapter, Kant characterized as the transcendental ability of the mind, constructing concepts and judgments independently of experience. We already know that this transcendental or “speculative” method of research has nothing to do with the concept of the transcendental, with everything that relates to the other world, lies beyond the world of phenomena, that is, with metaphysics. The best proof of this can be the fact that a science such as mathematics, which occupies an honorable and universally recognized place in the hierarchy of modern scientific disciplines, draws its truths, which have the unshakable power of scientific reliability, from the deep and consistent speculation it carries out. And who would think of contrasting mathematics, as a branch of metaphysics, with science, even with the addition of the epithet “positive” to the latter? 741 Obviously, and Mr.
Bulgakov did not avoid identifying the concepts “transcendental” and “transcendental”, and, consequently, idealism and metaphysics. But apart from this more or less special defect, the entire above judgment of our author suffers from an extremely incorrect view of the relative value of scientific and metaphysical-religious knowledge. Metaphysics, Mr. Bulgakov asserts, answers questions that are more important than science, and its answers are broader. Religion's answers are even broader. Agree. There is not the slightest doubt that the centuries-old gigantic work of scientific thought has not yet gotten to the bottom of the fundamental problems of the universe, which modern science has honestly and openly recognized as unresolved and, under current conditions of knowledge, even insoluble. We can, therefore, admit that very important, and, from a certain point of view, the most important questions “are beyond the power of science,” and here a wide scope opens up for the play of metaphysical-mystical imagery.
But when talking about the comparative value of these two or three types of thinking, it is necessary to take into account not only the quality of the questions, but also the quality of the answers, and in a certain sense.
“Religion (as well as metaphysics, which is closely related to it. - M.R.),” says Geffding 742, “and science do not relate to each other as the center and the periphery. Otherwise they would understand each other better and would be essentially grasped by one general concept. In fact, for now, each of them speaks its own language. Their concept of causality is not the same; Consequently, the concept of explanation and understanding is also different. It is therefore difficult to associate any specific meaning with the statement that religion is able to solve the riddle that science cannot solve. In fact, if by “cause” and “explanation” they do not mean the same thing, then by the word “mystery” or “problem” they must mean different things. Their formulation of questions is different, and therefore, the same solutions cannot satisfy them.
Therefore, the dispute between science and religion and the emergence of the religious problem itself is determined not so much by the results to which scientific research arrives or has arrived, but by the entire range of ideas, the entire intellectual makeup created by exact science in those who develop under its influence... Both religious and scientific understanding is the reduction of the unfamiliar to the familiar; the only difference is that it is taken to be familiar... Religious explanation does not examine its causes in the critical way that is the property of science. It explains nature not by nature itself; its cause is something different from nature, standing outside it and imparting its impetus to it from the outside” 743.
These words contain clear proof of the deep difference, and therefore the difficulty of comparison, the incorrectness of even comparing science, on the one hand, with religion and the metaphysics associated with it, on the other. But Mr. Bulgakov completely forgot about all this. Just as he forgot that the new scientific method of research was not only achieved by centuries of progressing human thought after long metaphysical and mystical wanderings, but was also purchased at the heavy price of the lives of those martyrs and fighters for science who laid down their lives in the struggle for this method, declared heresy in the era of the kingdom of theological thought, the theological method of research. These two areas are so profoundly different. We see, therefore, how weak is Mr. Bulgakov’s attempt to restore the meaning of metaphysics and theology in comparison with science. Whether Comte's law of three states is correct or incorrect, the law of the relationship of science, metaphysics and religion adopted in its place by our author is also incorrect.
But my task in relation to the affected part of the article under discussion has not yet been exhausted. I must make a reservation that with everything that has been said so far, I had no intention of either ignoring or obscuring the enormous importance of faith for our worldview. Faith is necessary, necessary, inevitable. Faith connects our present with the future; it not only helps us to penetrate with our gaze into the fog of the future, but also gives us life-giving forces to fight the present, without which the realization of the future is unthinkable. And, however, I object to the interpretation of the role of faith that is given by Mr. Bulgakov. Of course, here, as in many other cases, this author does not show the slightest independence, but only slavishly copies the relevant passages from Vl.’s philosophical system. Solovyova. The entire content of the above quotation, where faith is depicted as a way of knowledge without evidence, knowledge not only of what is unprovable, but also of what cannot be made completely understandable to reason; and especially the reference to the “profound” theory of knowledge of Vl. that crowns this quotation.
Solovyov is sufficiently characterized by Mr. Bulgakov’s not at all original, but very curious view of faith as one of the sources of knowledge. And not only in “Problems of Idealism,” but also in a number of his other articles and notes, Mr. Bulgakov never ceases to repeat that his philosophical inspirer Vl. Solovyov has the honor and merit of restoring the rights of faith in knowledge and thinking for modern humanity. Meanwhile, according to my deep conviction, which I will now try to prove, it is precisely in the confusion of concepts related to the question of faith that lies the source of all the major misunderstandings of the original philosophical system of the Russian thinker and the unoriginal creations of his followers.
Vl. Soloviev begins with a statement about the necessity of faith as the starting point of all scientific knowledge. No real knowledge, he argues, is exhausted by the data of our sensory experience (sensations) and the forms of our thinking mind (concepts); in any real knowledge about any object, we have something more than what is given in our sensations and concepts related to this object. A sensation is a real, experienced relationship to an object, a concept is a certain conceivable relationship to an object. It is clear that by receiving sensations and constructing a concept, we thereby gain confidence in the existence of the object itself - the object of our sensations and concepts. But in sensations and concepts, the object is given to us precisely as the object of these sensations and concepts, as felt and thought in these specific relations, that is, generally “in its relative existence.” Meanwhile, by cognizing an object, we affirm its “irrelevant existence”; we affirm it not only as something felt and thought by us, but also as “existent independently of us.”
We gain immediate confidence that this object exists regardless of whether we feel it or think about it, that it exists “in itself.” Thus, we cognize an object in three ways: as actually perceived by us (in sensations), as ideally conceivable (in concepts), and “as unconditional and existing.” “We feel a certain effect of an object, think about its general characteristics and are confident in its own or unconditional existence.” This confidence in the independent, unconditional existence of objects - the objects of our sensations and concepts, is a new, third kind of knowledge, which can most correctly be called faith. Only faith gives true knowledge. In sensations and concepts, in sensory experience and speculative thinking, external relations are created between the knower and the known; the cognizing subject here only borders on the object, only comes into contact with it, therefore such knowledge cannot be true, objective.
Only with the help of faith does the subject become in direct relation to the object, united with it “by an essential and internal connection” “in the very foundations of its being.” Faith, therefore, gives us true, unconditional knowledge - “mystical” knowledge. Through this faith, through mystical knowledge, we do not cognize this tangible or conceivable object, but we cognize its essence, its idea. Faith is “the revelation of things unseen” 744.
Mysticism encloses the range of possible philosophical views, forming the basis of true philosophy. Mysticism cognizes the truly existing, supercosmic and superhuman principle, the absolute principle, independent of the real external material world and of complete thinking. Above the external or empirical world, above the internal or mental world, rises another world, the world of mystical phenomena, “in which we feel ourselves determined by an essentiality other than ourselves, but not external to us, but, so to speak, even more internal, deeper and central than ourselves.” That is why “mystical phenomena, as the most central and deep, are of primary and fundamental importance, followed by mental phenomena and, finally, as the most superficial and dependent phenomena, physical.” This is why faith and mystical knowledge provide the most reliable, real knowledge 745.
Until now, Solovyov’s teaching on faith contains three important basic provisions: 1) faith is necessary for all scientific knowledge; 2) faith gives knowledge of the idea, essence, origin of things: 3) faith gives mystical knowledge of things, which is the most reliable. A supporter of the generally accepted view of the sources of scientific knowledge can make serious objections to all these provisions. He can first of all notice that Solovyov spoke about “faith” too early in his theory of knowledge. By receiving sensations of an object and constructing concepts about it, we, of course, thereby assume the existence of the object to which we relate our sensations and concepts. This is not a belief in the existence of an object, but an assumption of such existence - an assumption that then plays absolutely no role in the process of cognition of phenomena. Soloviev objects to this.
“This confidence (in the existence of an object),” he says, “is in no way determined by the sensations we receive from the object and our concept of it, but on the contrary, the objective meaning of our sensations and concepts is directly determined by the confidence in the independent existence of the object.” Why? The only proof for Solovyov is the following reasoning: “If I were not sure that a known object exists independently of me, then I could not attribute my concepts and sensations to it” 746. Here one can, of course, notice that the attribution of sensations and concepts to an object is a subsequent fact in the order of cognition, it is a consequence of sensations and concepts: I sense an object, I build concepts about it - from this I draw a conclusion about the existence of the object either as a state of consciousness, or in the form of an independent existence. But Soloviev does not agree with this either.
“We are not only convinced of the existence of a known object,” he insists, “but we are also convinced of this completely directly, regardless of any logical reasoning that comes later, for research to justify our immediate confidence... The unconditional existence (of an object) is affirmed in our consciousness precisely as an immediate certainty, in no way deriving from either sensations or concepts” 747. Therefore, this immediate confidence is faith or mystical knowledge, as a process of internal unity, internal connection of subject and object - a process that gives the most reliable, the only objective knowledge.
But in this case, in order to give all these words and concepts a real meaning and the power of universally binding logical persuasiveness, it would be necessary to explain the essence, content, methods and cases of the emergence of this unknown connection between subject and object, this mysterious mystical perception, which gives us such reliable knowledge about objects, moreover, about objects in themselves, about their irrespective existence, unconditional essence, idea, about the true, existing, about the supercosmic and superhuman principle, about absolute origin. But here we come across a stumbling block for the entire mystical theory of knowledge, the main defect of Solovyov’s epistemology, recognized even by unconditional supporters of mysticism. One of these supporters, Prof. A. Vvedensky 748, dividing Solovyov’s philosophical activity into two periods, notes that “in the first period, Solovyov’s mysticism remained unsaid, namely, he lacks the most important point of mystical philosophy - the psychology of mystical perception...
We would look in vain there (in his writings of 1897) for specific instructions on how each of us, with the help of introspection, can notice the existence of this ability, that is, how to act in order to actually experience mystical perception” 749. But this matter is even worse in Solovyov’s works of the second period. Here he was forced to admit that not all people have “the ability for mystical perception”, that “many people are deprived of the gift of mystical perception”; that only those few persons are capable of it, whose activities “in modern society and state Soloviev equates to the ministry of the prophets in ancient Israel, and whom he therefore calls prophets.” For these prophets (says Solovyov in “The Justification of Good”) “the flowers and fruits of an ideal future do not hang in the air of personal imagination, but are held in place by the obvious trunk of real social needs and the mysterious roots of religious tradition” 750.
From the last phrase, from the words about the “mysterious roots” of religious tradition, one can draw a conclusion about Solovyov’s method of proving the famous philosophical problem of the existence of God. Of course, here too this thinker gives a mystical justification. In his opinion, the reality of the deity is not a conclusion from a religious sensation, but the content of this sensation is the very thing that is felt. Take away this felt reality of the highest principle - and there will be nothing left in the religious feeling. He himself will no longer be there. But it exists, and that means there is what is given in it, what is felt in it. There is God in us - that means He exists” 751 (emphasis added throughout). But doesn’t this also mean that here too it would be necessary to give a “psychology of mystical perception”? Or will a reference to the chosen ones – the prophets – be required again? Moreover, there are serious reasons to assume that the number of such chosen ones in this area will be significantly smaller.
Sensations of objects are obtained by all living beings; therefore, the existence of objects - whether in the form of only a state, consciousness, or as independent beings, either through mystical faith, or through inferences - the existence of objects cannot be denied by any rational being. More controversial, as shown, is the question of the existence of objects as essences, ideas, etc. But even more controversial, of course, is the existence of those higher principles, the corresponding sensation of which is not so easy to select, at least for persons not equipped with a supernatural gift of perception.
From the previous – quite detailed – presentation, Vl’s theory of knowledge is clear. Solovyov in relation to the question of the role of faith as a source of knowledge, as well as the obvious and major shortcomings of this theory. Soloviev postulates faith, attaching great importance to it as a source of scientific knowledge. He even directly transforms this faith into knowledge, calling it mystical, giving it the quality of knowledge of the most reliable, but without giving it a psychological justification anywhere. With the help of such knowledge, finally, Soloviev wants to achieve true knowledge not only of the external, conceivable world, but also of the super-experiential, religious - knowledge of what is “not only unprovable, but also cannot be made completely understandable to reason.” From this we obtained the following epistemological results. Faith was given a “mystical” character, that is, a completely incomprehensible and, moreover, not universally binding character. Such an incomprehensible and not universally binding faith is identified with knowledge and, moreover, the most reliable one, which completely violates the boundary between science and fiction.
Further, the same faith or the same mystical knowledge, operating on essences and ideas, as well as on deities, that is, transferred from science to metaphysics and religion, violated the necessarily existing boundaries between these three areas of human thinking 752. And this complete confusion of the “three states” is called the “profound theory of knowledge,” which we are recommended to use when studying the life theory of progress.
We will now see how much Mr. Bulgakov’s theory of progress benefited from the use of such a scientific theory of knowledge. But, in order to avoid misunderstandings, I consider it my duty to preface that, as a person, perhaps, possessing the happy prophetic gift of mystical perception, Mr. Bulgakov, of course, can believe (or know that, however, from now on it makes no difference) in whatever he pleases and as he pleases. I am forced to criticize his theory from the point of view of the usual criteria of scientific and philosophical reliability: to what extent the author managed to prove in a generally binding manner certain provisions, this or that thought.
Mr. Bulgakov’s provisions on the role of science, metaphysics and religion, outlined in the previous chapter, constitute a kind of general epistemological introduction to his work. But regardless of this, we find in the latter a more special introduction, something like a prolegomena to any future theory of progress. Alas! and they are equally unproven.
Mr. Bulgakov begins here with correct, almost indisputable instructions. He correctly points out that the most striking expression of a positive worldview, namely the mechanical worldview, which sees “the whole solution to the mystery of being” in mechanical causality, itself becomes a metaphysical teaching, since it elevates this mechanical causality “to the level of an absolute world principle” (78). No less correct is Mr. Bulgakov’s pointing out that the philosophy of a mechanical worldview is not able to bring its point of view to a consistent conclusion, and in fact, within the limits of this understanding, “next to the concept of evolution, aimless and meaningless development, the concept of progress, teleological evolution is created” (9). The correctness of these instructions can only be compared with their general knowledge. And those who read at least “Russian Wealth” for the first time should remember how in bad and not quite old times, on the pages of this magazine, exactly the same thoughts were put forward as objections to Mr.
Bulgakov and Co., who dreamed of theoretical reassurance based on the recognition of the economic conformity to laws of the spontaneous, blind, spontaneous procession of productive forces, and in their own - also probably law-like - blindness, exclaimed: give us the forms of production and exchange, and we will explain the whole world to you!.. The current, “teleological” structure of our author’s thoughts is, of course, much more correct. The only trouble is that in the end teleology takes him to a completely different place than where it is supposed to lead him. The teleological point of view, breaking even through the framework of a mechanical worldview, leads to the construction of a theory of progress. And so, according to Mr. Bulgakov, “the significance of the theory of progress lies in the fact that it is designed to replace lost metaphysics and religion for modern man, or rather, it is both for him” (9). And he objects to the opinion that the theory of progress can be built on scientific data, without transferring it to the super-experimental, transcendental world.
It is easy to understand the seriousness and great importance of such a judgment by Mr. Bulgakov. If, indeed, the teleological point of view, or, what is the same, the theory of progress serves as an integral part of our worldview, even if it is built on the basis of a mechanical worldview and if, on the other hand, the theory of progress is essentially metaphysical, then this inevitably proves nothing more and nothing less than the necessity and inevitability of the metaphysical type of thinking in general. The thought of Mr. Bulgakov, thus giving a certain formulation and coloring to the theory of progress, also acquires a more general meaning. How does Mr. Bulgakov prove and justify this more than bold and, in any case, highly important statement? It cannot be said that the evidence collected in §§ III–IV of the article under consideration was distinguished by the degree of strength and persuasiveness that is necessary according to the importance of the position being proven.
Mr. Bulgakov's main argument is simple to the point of transparency. Every theory of progress, he says, like every religion, has its own “Jenseits” 753, its own idea of the future destinies of humanity. Without such an idea of the future, no theory of progress is conceivable, and, perhaps, the most vivid and concrete expression and proof of this idea is given in the theory of scientific socialism with its central thought about the inevitable onset of “Zukunftsstaat”. Based, however, on the analysis of Rickert, 754, who so brilliantly proved the impossibility of “historical predictions” and even “historical laws” that “any further evidence is essentially completely unnecessary,” Mr. Bulgakov, “leaving unchanged the present paragraph” of his article, written even before the appearance of Rickert’s discovery, on the very first two pages of this paragraph irrevocably condemns any attempt at a historical forecast, and, consequently, a “scientific” theory of progress (11–12). G.
Bulgakov is still ready to recognize some significance for the concept of development tendency, often interpreted in history and sociology, but only in the sense of “the result of the study of individual facts”; “devoid of such factual content, but only mentally continued from the present to the future, this tendency immediately turns into a common place, into a game of the mind, devoid of any serious meaning” (12). But even if “we fully recognize the validity of the scientific theory of progress... is this theory still capable of satisfying those who seek in it a firm refuge, a basis for faith, hope, and love?” (15). Let science answer our question about what will happen in the 21st, 22nd, 21st centuries - well, then what? “Positive science is unable to reveal the future destinies of humanity; it leaves us in absolute uncertainty regarding them (16). Meanwhile, within us lives the conviction of the inevitable triumph of good, of the ultimate realization of progress. The secret is that the source of such conviction is that religious faith that “quietly, smuggles in even into positive theories of progress” (17).
The conclusion is obvious: the theory of progress cannot be constructed in a strictly scientific way; by the very essence of the questions it is designed to answer, it inevitably leads to metaphysics and religion, drawing its final justification from them.
This is Mr. Bulgakov’s argument. Let's break it down into its component parts.
As proof and as an example of the impossibility of a historical forecast, which is absolutely necessary for the scientific theory of progress, Mr. Bulgakov quite reasonably referred to the idea of Zukunftsstaat in the system of scientific socialism. He, however, is probably not unaware that the thought of Zukunftsstaat was associated with predictions of a certain - both as a whole and in its parts - social order at a certain point in time and at a certain point in space; or a prediction, or rather, an affirmation of the possibility and even necessity of a certain way of life, as a result of the action of existing forces, as the final expression of a current development trend. The idea of the possibility of predictions of the first kind is irrevocably condemned. When, in relatively recent times, none other than Mr. Bulgakov confidently declared that “knowledge of the causal relationship that governs human life makes it possible to predict its future events as accurately as is possible with respect to the phenomena of the external world” 755, then every scientific researcher had the right to only laugh at this.
But not only is this idea not held by anyone at the present time 756 , but it was not recognized, at least in full, even by Kautsky in his completely outdated Erfurt program 757 .
We have to notice something completely different about “predictions” in the second of the senses I mentioned. And Mr. Bulgakov’s objections are directed against them, in this case only repeating Rickert. Such objections are not new. Literally he used them as the main combat weapon against the nova. Literally, they were also used as the main weapon of war against Marxist predictions by the famous predictor of the “end of Marxism” - Weizengrün 758 . And, nevertheless, all these indications cannot be called convincing enough. From the most cautious and strict scientific point of view, one cannot help but recognize, together with Simmel and other researchers, the “relative value of historical laws” 759, and this is essentially all that Marxism needs in a critical attitude towards it, and any other “positive” theory of progress that does not want to sacrifice a particle of accessible, relative truth to metaphysical assumptions that yield nothing.
If modern historical and sociological criticism has undermined faith in the correctness of the Marxist idea of the future or the ways to achieve it, then we must remember that much earlier many proceeded from negative criticism of the trend of development that was hastily and, in the end, incorrectly established by dogmatic Marxists on the basis of a hasty generalization of a few facts. The problem is not that “predictions” were made, but that they were not made on a broad enough basis. This is the first thing. Secondly, the criticism of Marxism has more than once pointed out the arbitrariness that was introduced by the one-sided theory of economic materialism: the future was “predicted” on the basis of an analysis of economic relations alone (and not all of them, but only the most acute and prominent ones), supposedly making their solemn procession with the force of an irresistible natural process.
At the same time, the entire determining significance of the “superstructure”, consisting of the interweaving of political, religious, national relations, was ignored, the active role of the living human personality, capable of conscious creativity of perfect forms of social life, was forgotten, in general, all the flesh and blood of a diverse and noisy human life in the fullness of its real motives and vital interests was thrown overboard. Meanwhile, if, freed from the yoke of materialist theory, which narrowed the field of vision, one could freely look at the world of God and, through scientific analysis, accurate, broad, and multifaceted, reveal the trend in the development of modern life, then on this basis it would be possible to find a fulcrum for a conscious look at the future, for understanding its general direction, main motives, and approximate plan. It’s not a matter of “predictions” here, it’s not a matter of the desire to jump with one’s gaze into the 21st, 22nd and even 23rd centuries, as Mr. obviously wants.
Bulgakov - but only in the firm conviction, based on serious scientific data, that life does not know sharp leaps, that in it, although often invisible to our still poorly armed eyes, a constant natural transition from one form to another is noticeable. And for those who, in this constant change of forms of life, notice the transition from lower to higher, in this conviction lies the material for the theory of progress, as the doctrine that among the noisy stream in modern life, quietly but incessantly makes its way, ever expanding, a trickle of what we call good, if not in the absolute, then in the relative, at least, sense. And in this the advanced part of modern humanity finds real consolation and support in their best aspirations, in this they hear a powerful call to continuous, intense social activity. Mr. Bulgakov looks at the matter somewhat differently.
“I think in general,” he says, “that knowledge of the future would bring not happiness, but misfortune for a person, because it would make life uninteresting and tasteless for him and, especially, the future, which can now be filled without restraint by fantasy” (14). Of course, there is no arguing about tastes, but the very idea of filling with fantasy the gap created by the hasty elimination of the “development trend” - this very idea is very characteristic of our neo-idealist and, perhaps, of the entire movement he represents. Below we will see what the concrete results are that Mr. Bulgakov and his like-minded people obtain from the application of their fantastic point of view on life not only in the future, but to a large extent also in the present.
Now I must note that the unconditionally positive understanding of the theory of progress just outlined requires some fundamental additions. In the change of historical foundations and forms of life one can see only the soil and support for progressive aspirations, for one or another application and direction of progressive social activity. But these very aspirations and activities rest on other sources that have nothing in common with historical laws. These sources are the moral force that not only does not depend on the state of historical relations, but very often directs its activity in spite of and contrary to the latter. That is why, among all the unfavorable conditions and disasters of modern life, the idea of progress can not leave its bearers, can nourish hope in them, inspire them with strength to fight the “necessary” conditions of the present.
Here Mr. Bulgakov takes us at our word. Having started for the health of historical laws, have we not ended for the repose of the scientific theory of progress? Haven’t we finally come to the recognition of faith as the original source of every idea of progress, and doesn’t this prove the validity of Mr. Bulgakov’s position about the metaphysical, or rather, religious character of every theory of progress? Such a question can only be answered with a new question: on what is the assumption based that if the theory of progress has faith as its basis, then it is necessary in the precise sense that he gives to the word faith? Are we not here again faced with the misunderstanding outlined above, associated with the view of faith in Vl.’s theories of knowledge? Solovyov and his faithful followers? Faith is, as I have already said, such a natural trait inherent in human nature that denying its significance, its enormous role in the life of both an individual and all of humanity, hardly occurred to any of the positivists and non-metaphysicists in general.
A neo-Kantian, undoubtedly of a positive kind, Lange 760 perfectly noted this in his criticism of the “ambiguous position” that Kant occupied with his confused reasoning about the “thing in itself” and the “intelligible world.” Kant, he notes, “did not want to understand what Plato did not want to understand, that the intelligible world is a world of fiction (Dichtung) and that its meaning and height are based precisely on this. For fiction in the high and broad sense in which it should be accepted here cannot be considered as a game of talented arbitrariness, with the aim of amusing with empty fabrications; he is an inevitable product of the spirit, growing from the deepest vital roots of our race - the source of everything high, holy and a real counterbalance to the pessimism arising from a one-sided stay in reality" 761. “The world of fiction,” which, however, stems “from the deepest roots of life,” is precisely that belief in the result of the development trend that I spoke about above. Let me also remind you of the words of N.K. Mikhailovsky 762 that I quoted in the first article, that the answer to the question: “What to do”?
- “in its main features lies outside the limits of knowledge,” that is, in the realm of faith. Finally, the positivist Mr. Kareev speaks about the same thing, expressing the idea that “the future is an extra-scientific area, and from this very aspect historical science does not provide completely holistic knowledge”; that science, in this regard, requires the addition of “philosophy”, understood as “creativity oscillating between two poles - the pole of faith and the pole of knowledge” 763. Obviously, not only idealistic metaphysicians live by faith, and not every faith is a mystical faith. There is faith and faith. And Lange, and N.K. Mikhailovsky, and Mr. Kareev, like the one writing these lines, we all believed and believe that the faith that moves people, animating them on the difficult path of life, has as its source and its goal man and his earthly interests, begins with people, and ends with humanity. Mr. Bulgakov did not prove the opposite.
Justice obliges us to note that, having established without any evidence, on the basis of the “prophetic” method of research, his main thesis about the mystical nature of the faith that lies at the basis of the theory of progress, Mr. Bulgakov, with the methodological disorder characteristic of him in general in the article being analyzed, subsequently returns to this topic, and there we can find something like the evidence we are looking for.
I'll touch on the most important thing. The theory of progress requires a certain idea of the purpose and meaning of life. But Mr. Bulgakov believes that outside the realm of religious faith, in the world of experienced, sensory-tangible existence, it is impossible to find the highest, absolute meaning of life (18). Why? Because, the author answers, that in this world of experimental and tactile existence it is impossible to reach a higher concept than humanity. “But what is this humanity? and is it any different from man? No, it is no different from him, it simply represents a large, indefinite number of people, with all human properties, and receives as few new qualities in its nature as a heap of stones or grains compared to each individual stone or grain. What the positivist calls humanity is a repetition in an indefinite space and time and an indefinite number of times of ourselves with all our weakness and limitations.
Our life has an absolute meaning, price and purpose, and so does humanity; but if the life of each person, taken separately, is nonsense, an absolute accident, then the fate of humanity is also meaningless” - (19–20). A frightened “positivist,” of course, has the right to ask: why is it that a person and his whole life, and even all of humanity, and, moreover, in an indefinite space and time, are all accidents and nonsense? The author of the metaphysical theory of progress would have to prove this idea. But there is no such evidence in the article under review. Disdainfully discarding humanity as an unsuitable element as a goal and meaning, a guiding thread of life, Mr. Bulgakov simply postulates the idea of immortality as a super-experienced, transcendental principle, the only one that can form the basis of the theory of progress. One cannot, in fact, consider the evidence adduced by Mr.
Bulgakov, the following outpouring of Fichte: “What is called death cannot bring a break to my work, for my work must be perfect, and therefore the time of my existence is not determined, and therefore I am eternal. By taking on this task, I at the same time joined eternity. I boldly raise my head to a rocky ridge or a furious waterfall, or to thundering clouds floating in a sea of fire and say: I am eternal and I resist your power,” etc., etc. (19).
The reader, although somewhat familiar with philosophical literature, will easily guess that the thought presented by Mr. Bulgakov and proven by him by referring to Fichte is only a paraphrase of Kant’s proof of the immortality of the soul as a postulate of practical reason. Kant's line of reasoning is as follows. At a certain stage of his research, Kant, in order to substantiate his moral teaching, felt the need to find the concept of the “highest good” as the ultimate goal of moral aspirations, as a scale for the ethical assessment of actions. Such a supreme good is conceivable only if the will of the acting subject corresponds to the requirement of the moral law. The same correspondence, in turn, is conceivable only under the condition of perfection and holiness, inaccessible to any rational being in the human world. And since this correspondence, as practically necessary, as arising from the absolute dictates of practical reason containing the moral law, is nevertheless required, it is given in the concept of progress, which by its very essence goes to infinity.
And the latter is possible only if we assume the immortality of the soul, which, thus, becomes a necessary requirement or “postulate of practical reason” 764. Of course, nothing can be objected to such a postulate if by the immortality of the soul we mean only a metaphysical expression of the idea of an endless change of human generations and their activities along the path of progress. Some have tried to give a similar interpretation to the teachings of Kant just outlined. But the same concept of the immortality of the soul can also receive a completely different meaning, which in this case especially suggests itself, due to the fact that through this postulate of immortality Kant then moves on to a new postulate that acquires a clearly metaphysical character. Ideas about perfection and holiness, about the endless pursuit of happiness, give rise, according to Kant, to the assumption of a cause adequate to such an action and create the concept of a perfect being - God.
Thus, what emerges is a new postulate of practical reason - the existence of God 765, which leads, or at least can lead to the recognition of a special kind of reason, causation and to the assumption of a special religious explanation of phenomena, in the sense indicated by Geffding.
After what has been said, it is clear that Mr. Bulgakov would have acted more correctly if, instead of extracting a poetic passage from Fichte, he had turned to an analysis of Kant’s postulates, their meaning, and their possible interpretation. And then he would have to note the entire logical arbitrariness of the first of Kant’s postulates, the immortality of the soul, which plays such a large role in our author’s own theory of progress. And it would be all the more easy to do this since the instability and unsatisfactoriness of this teaching of Kant is recognized by everyone - his opponents, as well as his supporters. Leaving aside the question of the contradiction of the very idea of the “highest good” with Kant’s system of autonomous morality (which I will talk about elsewhere), one cannot help but point out long ago, however, the noted logical arbitrariness admitted by Kant when constructing the postulate of the immortality of the soul. If within the limits of the existence of modern society or modern generations the highest good cannot be achieved, then is it not achievable in a future life, but also human?
Future life is a continuation of the present life and, like any continuation, it is a determination in time and as such exists and falls along with time and the sensory world 766. Obviously, the idea of progress going into infinity can lead to the idea of progress at least in the infinite future, but within the limits of time and space, in the sensually tangible world of existence. What does the immortality of the soul have to do with it? Isn't this really a metaphor?
The reader sees the insufficiency and unconvincingness of the general criticism of all supposedly only “positive” theories of progress that appeal to the concept of humanity. Meanwhile, the author of this poor argument considered himself entitled to make a very decisive conclusion to all this. Faith in humanity, it says, is “an unreasonable, blind faith; Compared to faith, which is based on metaphysical truths justified by reason, this faith, which does not have such a rational foundation, is a kind of superstition. Thus, positivism, which strives only for positive knowledge and therefore fundamentally denies both metaphysics and religious faith, ends up in superstition” (21). The idea of faith in humanity as a superstition destroyed by arguments from metaphysics is, in truth, an example of metaphysical vanity.
Until now, I have analyzed the general premises of the theory of progress established by Mr. Bulgakov, which tends to prove the inevitability of its construction on data of a metaphysical-religious nature. But the author seeks to prove the same idea in another way: by analyzing individual positive theories. Let's turn to this analysis.
In the first place is the criticism of utilitarianism or eudaimonism, that is, the doctrine of the greatest possible happiness of the greatest possible number of persons as the ultimate goal of progress. In itself, this criticism is quite superficial. If we leave aside the criticism of particular expressions of eudaimonism in the form of Sombart’s teaching 767 and the theory of class struggle (24–26), it turns out that 2 1/2 pages (22–24) are devoted to the actual criticism of utilitarianism, on which two objections are raised: firstly, an indication of the morality of happiness only if it coincides with moral activity, serving the good; secondly, a mention of the impossibility of quantifying happiness. Such criticism, both quantitatively and qualitatively, must be considered insufficient. Moreover, two objections can be made against it, in turn. First of all, in its main parts and motives, it concerns the crudest and weakest form of the eudaimonic doctrine developed by Bentham, that form which Wundt 768 correctly called “egoistic utilitarianism” 769 .
But there is also another type of the same teaching - in Wundt’s terminology - “altruistic utilitarianism” 770 **, to which, for example, Mr. Bulgakov’s reproach for subordinating the service of good to the desire for happiness cannot be attributed: rather, this type of teaching suffers from the opposite drawback, and then only with a special kind of interpretation of it. But all this is by the way. The important thing is that this or that result of criticism of utilitarianism must be recognized as rather indifferent to the fate of the positive theory of progress in general. In order not to be unfounded, I will remind you of the certainly thorough, sometimes devastating criticism to which utilitarianism was subjected to by such undoubted positivists as Laas 771 or Guyot 772, who, despite such criticism, followed it with their own positive theories of morality and progress 773.
Having so unsuccessfully ended utilitarianism, Mr. Bulgakov turns to criticism of the “more sublime” teaching of the positivists, in which the goal of progress is no longer happiness, but “the improvement of humanity.” The author deals with this theory with a very light indication that the improvement of humanity requires at least approaching the ideal, and yet he, Mr. Bulgakov, has already proven that this ideal cannot lie within the boundaries of humanity itself and, in general, in the world of experienced existence. Here, therefore, “the well-trodden path of experience necessarily leads us to the difficult and rocky path of speculation,” and “positivism once again borrows extraordinarily from metaphysics” (37). We have already seen, however, the degree of evidence of the proposition that it is impossible to find a goal for humanity in itself, and criticism of this theory, which is entirely reduced to a reference to this unproven proposition, of course, can be left without special consideration 774.
The “more sublime teaching” is followed by “the most sublime theory of progress, “according to which it consists in creating conditions for the free development of the individual” (27). But the attitude towards this theory in the article is the most frivolous. Mr. Bulgakov is trying to assure readers that this theory is essentially metaphysical. Why? – the perplexed reader will ask.
The author considers the answer to this question to be a reference to the fact that “the free development of the individual, as an ideal of social development, is the main and general theme of all classical German philosophy,” that this theme was clearly developed in Fichte’s system and is “an expression in other words of the main idea of Kant’s ethics about the autonomy of moral life, about the self-legitimacy of the will in the choice of good or evil” (28). It is simply amazing how Mr. Bulgakov, who wrote these lines, forgot that the basic idea of Kantian ethics about the autonomy of the moral law and the value and sanctity of the human person was developed by Kant himself and, in general, can be taken without connection with the metaphysical shell that this idea received - without sufficient logical foundations - partly from Kant himself and especially in later metaphysical systems, in particular from Fichte. But in view of the extreme superficiality of the corresponding place in Mr. Bulgakov’s article, I prefer to postpone the discussion of this issue in order to dwell on it in more detail when criticizing Mr.
Berdyaev, where this very issue is given more space.
That's it. These are all the “positive” theories of progress that have received the attention of metaphysical criticism. One does not have to be too devoted to the cause of positivism to have the right to be offended by such an unfair attitude towards this matter. Where have Buckle and Guizot, Tarde 775 and Lester Ward and many other thinkers gone, their name is legion? Where are the Russian representatives of the theory of “struggle for individuality”? Let individual attempts, in the light of critical thought, be considered unsatisfactory; let them not always be based on strict positivism. But does all this really not deserve absolutely no attention as an idea waiting to be developed, as a beginning, as a hint at a possible theory of progress in a positive spirit?
And are other teachings impossible, besides positive, on the one hand, and metaphysical-idealistic theories of progress, on the other hand? Since there exists, as we saw in the previous chapter, a system of non-metaphysical idealism, then are idealistic theories of progress that are not wrapped in a cloud of metaphysical justification also impossible? After all, all this was, is and probably will be in the history of human thought, represented not only by those who, having not yet worn out the shoes of Marxism, turned into idealists of the most extreme, metaphysical shade.
For example, I can recall the famous Windelband 776, an ardent Kantian, for whom the “Critique of Pure Reason” represents “the main book of German philosophy” and who says that “there are still only two philosophical systems: Greek and German, Socrates and Kant” 777, and this Windelband, by the way, has a negative attitude towards positivism 778 and directly disparages utilizirism 779 , - nevertheless, believes that “the metaphysics of religious faith, like metaphysics in general, does not allow for scientific justification”; that “theoretical knowledge cannot in a generally binding manner determine the goal and task of society either below (unterhalb) or above (oberhalb) it,” but only “in the essence of society itself.” And, based on this principle, he outlines a theory in which the gradual assimilation by individuals of the consciousness of a community of interests and the systematic striving of citizens to create a “cultural system” (Cultursystem) is presented as the ultimate goal of community life and as a scale for measuring the moral value of a given social organism 780.
What a tempting theory of progress, on what healthy idealistic principles it is built, and how at the same time this whole construction is infinitely far from the metaphysical view with its mystical belief in that invisible, fortune-telling, foggy thing that should replace the study of the real needs and vital interests of humanity living on earth.
However, there is reason to assume that the fact of the existence of idealism, alien to the metaphysical veil, remained completely outside the field of philosophical vision of Mr. Bulgakov. This is clearly indicated by his reasoning regarding the point “where the impotence or insufficiency of the positive theory of progress is most strongly reflected,” namely, the question of the relationship between being and ought. “It doesn’t take many words,” according to our author, “to show that experimental science is not able to cope with this antithesis,” since “oughts cannot in any way be justified from being” (29–30). One cannot but agree with this last thought. But what follows from it? Let this be raised as an objection to those for whom the chain of human knowledge and thinking is closed by the links of experience and mechanical necessity. But in its place I have already shown that the problem of the relationship between being and ought can lead and, in fact, has led many to an idealistic type of thinking, free from the admixture of metaphysical elements.
If, therefore, this “antithesis” can be a thorn in the side of pure unalloyed positivism, then, on the other hand, the universally binding nature of the metaphysical-mystical worldview, in particular the metaphysical theory of progress, does not follow from it.
Mr. Bulgakov, however, does not notice the existence of certain types of idealism and, following the indicated criticism of “positive” teachings, proceeds to substantiate his own metaphysical-idealistic theory of progress. I am forced to follow the criticized author into these metaphysical jungles: perhaps there will be found a pearl of a truly correct understanding of the doctrine that interests us.
In this part, Mr. Bulgakov’s presentation turns into a series of provisions connected with each other by purely verbal unity, but devoid of any internal, logical connection. At the same time, as any knowledgeable reader will easily notice, the author’s argument here does not at all sparkle with novelty.
From the point of view of the theory of progress, argues Mr. Bulgakov, “history has meaning, and the historical process is not only evolution, but also progress. This theory proves, therefore, the identity of causal regularity and rational purposiveness and is, therefore, in Leibniz’s terminology, a theodicy, i.e., the revelation of the highest reason, the highest purposiveness in the world. It is clear that this is a theory not of experimental origin, but of super-experiential, metaphysical origin, and therefore it would be most correct to call it the metaphysics of history” (32–3); italics are mine throughout). Let's stop for a minute. Has the reader noticed all the truly metaphysical arbitrariness of the above reasoning? Meanwhile, this argument contains the main proof of the thesis about the metaphysical content of the theory of progress; Further conclusions from this situation will follow. History is not only evolution, but also progress, it has its own specific meaning.
To this, a positivist and idealist of a non-metaphysical sense can easily notice: that history is progress - this has been proven for us by numerous scientific studies; and since there is progress in history, then it acquires meaning - meaning for us, living people, since we know that there is progress in history, since we ourselves create this progress, setting certain goals for history and laying down our lives to achieve these goals. What is metaphysical in this idea, the idea of progress and the meaning of the historical process? We received this idea partly experimentally, partly speculatively; in the same way we draw conclusions from it that serve as the basis for our activities. But all these provisions and conclusions begin with us and end with us, and the metaphysics of history has absolutely nothing to do with it. As for the transformation of the theory of progress into a “theodicy,” it was achieved by substituting concepts, through a simple play on words.
We have stated the meaning of history, its rational goal, consciously set, resolved and implemented by us, living people, and you are talking about theodicy, which is the idea of a higher divine mind that causes expediency in the world. But is the divine mind and the human mind, history and the world the same thing? How is the meaning, reasonable purpose, and expediency of the mute nature around us proven? How has it been proven that all this is controlled by an intelligent force external to nature? How has it been proven that social life is a part of the rationally directed purposiveness of all existence? Of course, for Leibniz, who proceeded from the view that both “physical” and “moral necessity,” the entire universe and the entire world of human relations are determined by the good and reasonable will of the Creator, who gave us this best of worlds 781, the answers to all the questions posed could not present any difficulties.
But at the present moment, it is only a misunderstanding, large and incomprehensible, that the attempt of the latest, even metaphysical, author to dress the theory of progress in the costume of theodicy may seem.
Then, as I said, there are conclusions: they are distinguished by the same unscientificness, the same metaphysical arbitrariness. Let us follow on the heels of Mr. Bulgakov here. The metaphysics of history, as we already know, is necessarily a theodicy, especially since Hegel understood the matter this way. Theodicy is the doctrine of the ultimate meaning of something. We must, therefore, find the meaning of history. This discovery does not present any difficulties for the metaphysician. “This means, first of all, to show that history is the revelation and fulfillment of one creative and reasonable plan, that the historical process expresses global, providential thought.” We already know all this, but here comes the conclusion: “therefore,” Mr. Bulgakov assures, “everything that has happened and will be in history, all this is necessary for the disclosure of this plan, for the purposes of reason.” Moreover, if everything is necessary, then evil is also necessary. That is why in theodicy “a justification of good must be given, which must at the same time be a justification of evil, evil in nature, in man, in history.
Philosophy must show the inner impotence of evil, its—it’s scary to say—ultimate rationality.” And philosophy must teach the fight against evil in the name of the ultimate truth of the ultimate good (34). Having reached this point, which represents only fragments of the philosophy of Hegel plus Solovyov, Mr. Bulgakov was unable to contain his metaphysical ecstasy and proudly exclaims: “Happy, oh, thrice happy is the one who honestly and sacredly managed to suffer to this joyful conviction, for nothing in the world can be more joyful than this conviction” (35). I would not want to disturb the happiness and embarrass the joy of Mr. Bulgakov, especially since both this happiness and joy seem to me to be sufficiently innocent and naive. But still, let me ask: what are all these happy and joyful revelations based on? And first of all: the inevitability of evil in modern life is a fact well known not only to metaphysicians; does it really prove its necessity?
And more importantly; even if this evil is “necessary,” is it really possible to talk about moral necessity, leading to the thought of “justification” (?!) of evil? Evil can never be justified, but only condemned; even though it ultimately leads to good, it remains evil and as such must be evaluated. But does Mr. Bulgakov feel that at this point he suddenly fell from metaphysical heights into the quagmire of the crudest positive-utilitarian prejudices: evil is necessary, because with its help humanity will ultimately achieve universal well-being, to the greatest possible happiness of the greatest possible number of people... And, finally, I repeat in part the question already posed: let everything that was, and even what will be, not excluding evil, be necessary, let, further, this be necessary precisely for revealing the plan and purpose of the mind. But how is it proven that, besides the most rational being, besides a person possessing reason, there is some kind of world, providential power, some kind of world mind that dictates goals and draws plans for the historical process?
To this fundamental question, no matter how important it is, Mr. Bulgakov does not give any answer, but after the quote about triple metaphysical happiness, he fearlessly continues: “If we admit that history is the revelation of the absolute, then we thereby already recognize that in history there is no reign of chance or dead regularity, causality, there is only a regularity of development of the absolute... And our intentions and actions turn out to be means for the goals of the absolute... All history is a manifestation of the absolute, all of it is the living speech of the Divine” (35–36). We need to stop here. The root has been found. How can one not recall the already quoted words of the sober scientific researcher and rather profound philosopher Geffding: “Religious explanation does not explore its causes in the critical way that is the property of science, it does not explain nature by nature itself; its cause is something different from nature, standing outside of it and imparting its impetus to it from without.”
Mr. Bulgakov, both in the theory of progress and in explaining the historical process, found his causa causarum 782, with the help of which he is supposedly able to explain everything that exists. But is this an explanation? What does all this reference to the absolute explain? How does all this relate to our concrete explanations, our earthly affairs, our real interests? We will now move on to these questions, but isn’t it clear even now that Mr. Bulgakov’s reasoning about the absolute, which governs the course of world history, in itself, an und fur sich 783, fully confirms the witty characterization of all metaphysics given in the following words of Simmel: “Just as they say about feelings that they do not make mistakes, not because they always judge correctly, but because they do not judge at all, the same can be said about metaphysics that it does not make mistakes (verkennte) in its objects, not because it always knows them correctly, but because it does not know them at all” 784.
The contours of Mr. Bulgakov's own theory of progress are sufficiently outlined by the above. And, it seems to me, it will be quite legitimate to conclude that both in the critical and positive parts of his work, the representative of the “problems of idealism” being examined did not prove the metaphysical nature of the theory of progress and, at the same time, the obligatory and inevitability of the metaphysical method of research and thinking. But we approach the same “problems of idealism” with another question of no less importance; we ask the leaders of the new direction: in what sense and how should the connection of their metaphysical-religious theories with life be understood, and can these theories really lead to the most solid justification for the old social ideal that occupies us to this day? Let us approach Mr. Bulgakov’s theory from this side.
This attitude of ours towards the theory being analyzed will not be at all artificial: it directly follows from its own construction. Having climbed onto his metaphysical horse, called the absolute, Mr. Bulgakov finally felt the need to cast his gaze on our sinful earth with its relative, finite, but still possessing attractive interests for metaphysicians. I will not hide that I felt strong excitement when I reached this point in Mr. Bulgakov’s article: after all, here, precisely here, an explanation of the main question about the relationship of metaphysics to the social question should have been contained; about the extent to which new metaphysical views can replace previous social teachings; about, finally, what value the new current of Russian social thought represents from our point of view. Unfortunately, however, the method of resolving all these issues given in Mr. Bulgakov's article causes great disappointment. At the first collision with concrete reality, Mr. Bulgakov unexpectedly declares: “To know the mind of everything that exists...
accessible only to the omniscience of God. For us, individual events of both our own life and history will forever remain irrational,” and “we cannot make the goals of the absolute directly our own goals” (37). After such words, we would seem to have the right to conclude that all connection between real life and the absolute is severed. But no, Mr. Bulgakov consoles us, “the absolute constantly guides us in life, constantly gives us instructions, punishes us for disobedience and mistakes. Every day and hourly we hear his authoritative voice, categorical, stern and unforgiving. This is conscience, a moral law, a categorical imperative, the absolute nature of which was put beyond any doubt by Kant” (ibid.). An unprepared reader may have difficulty noticing the play on words that our author again substituted for evidence.
He needed to prove that the highest rational force, that absolute, the manifestation of which is given in the historical process, to the breath of which we owe all our activities, controls us with the help of the moral law living in us. In other words, it was necessary to indicate the living connection of the absolute with our moral life. What is the evidence presented by Mr. Bulgakov? This proof is a reference to the absolute nature of the moral law, proven by Kant. First of all, the unfounded reference to Kant is not convincing. Perhaps Kant proves what Mr. Bulgakov asserts, but this proof in itself is incorrect. Or maybe the absolute nature of the moral law was really proven by Kant, but this has nothing to do with the issue raised by Mr. Bulgakov. For example, I argue that the “absolute” character of the moral law from Kant’s point of view only means its a priori nature, transcendental nature, non-derivability from empirical conditions, and therefore universally binding for every rational being.
And as we already know, such a transcendental nature of the “absolute” moral law does not bring us one hair closer to the transcendental, super-experiential world, to the sphere of absolutes, higher powers, invisible minds, etc. figures of the metaphysical kingdom. Kant’s “absolute” cannot at all, due to purely verbal consonance - and then only in Russian speech - be identified with the “absolute” of Hegel, Solovyov and Mr. Bulgakov. It is clear that the play on words made by our author does not resolve the question and does not in the least encourage us to prove the metaphysical or religious sources of our concrete, individual or historical activity.
Moreover, moving on to a discussion of the moral problem as it applies to concrete reality, Mr. Bulgakov encounters a new difficulty. We are talking about the moral law as the engine of real life, which raises the question of the implementation of the moral law, which has caused so much philosophical controversy. But this question also finds a very unsatisfactory solution in the article. On the one hand, there are cursory remarks regarding the dualism of the Kantian system, explained by the further systems of Fichte, Schelling and Hegel (31). From this we can conclude that Mr. Bulgakov - and of course, quite consistently - also substantiates the question of the implementation of the moral law metaphysically (we will touch on this aspect of the issue in more detail below, in the criticism of Mr. Berdyaev’s article). On the other hand, the center of gravity of this issue is moved by the same author to a completely different area. “The moral law,” he says, “despite the absolute nature of its commands, is implemented only for specific purposes, in specific life.
This poses a new task for moral life—to fill the empty form of absolute obligation with specific relative content” (39). Moreover, in the final, somewhat tacked-on chapter, containing “several comments on the tasks of modern philosophy,” Mr. Bulgakov even gives the closest indications of the type and nature of this specific content. “Modern philosophy,” it says here, “must face the great social struggle of our days, be its exponent and interpreter,” especially since the modern crisis of the labor movement “is not of an economic and political nature, but of a moral, I will even say, religious” (45). But how to do all this? How to fill the moral law emanating from the absolute with concrete content? Why should such content be the labor movement? What connection exists between the absolute and social struggle? What is he to Hecuba, what is she to him? Mr. Bulgakov is eloquently silent about all this.
Thus, without bringing any new elements from his metaphysical worldview to illuminate the social question, Mr. Bulgakov, precisely thanks to his “metaphysics of history,” did something in the direction of perverting its deep meaning and great significance. We already know the author's view on the metaphysical nature of the idea of personality as a goal and measure of progress. From this idea follows “the necessity of modern aspirations for political and economic democracy,” as a result of which Mr. Bulgakov concludes: “The reader understands that this is an idea of a super-experiential, metaphysical nature (therefore metaphysics gives the highest sanction to the modern social movement)” (29). So easily, outside the brackets, a thought is proven that can turn upside down the entire modern attitude to the social issue. But Mr. Bulgakov does not stop there. It is known that “the modern social movement is based on the class struggle, which constitutes a powerful lever of modern political and social life.
And so, for the sake of consistency, our author, who in terms of his theoretical views burned everything he worshiped and worshiped everything he burned, now expresses regret not only that Marxism ignored the ethical element in the formula of class struggle (25), but also that “Marxism takes the formula in question without any metaphysical content” (29). The idea of class struggle with metaphysical content is one of the numerous unsubstantiated statements of its author in the article. One could, perhaps, pass by this remark, ignoring it as a curiosity not worthy of attention. The point, however, is that, occupied with the metaphysical side of this tactile-concrete question, Mr. Bulgakov subsequently reveals an attempt to obscure the entire historical meaning and the entire social significance of the class struggle in favor of a certain prejudice of formal theory.
“From an ethical point of view,” he says, “both fighting parties (the proletariat and the bourgeoisie) are equal to each other, since they are guided not by ethical and religious enthusiasm, but by purely selfish goals” (25). Here one mistake prevented Mr. Bulgakov from establishing a correct view of the social significance of the class struggle, even in that part of it where the proletariat, not animated by ethical motives, is guided only by bare material interest (which, of course, does not always happen and not everywhere). It is necessary to distinguish between two types of “ethical point of view”: individual and social. From an individual-ethical point of view, the worker, striving to improve his material condition and only this, commits an action that is ethically indifferent and, as such, deserves ethical approval no more than the bourgeois, who also proceeds from his own economic calculations in a clash with the workers. But let us rise to the height of the social and ethical view.
From this point of view, it is necessary to evaluate not only the actions of individual people or groups, but also the conflicts encountered at every step between the interests of justice, the requirements of the moral law, on the one hand, and the conditions of existing reality, on the other. If we assume that the system that the working masses seek, even only due to their selfish motives, will meet the requirements of justice, then it will become clear that the working classes, realizing their personal goals, contribute to the embodiment of justice in life, contribute to the triumph of the moral law. And therefore, their actions, for socio-ethical reasons, can and should be qualified completely differently than the economic actions of the propertied classes, who do not assist in the struggle against the workers, but, on the contrary, hinder the implementation of the moral law. It is precisely this idea that underlies the many times expressed view that the labor movement lies “along the line of social progress” 785 .
However, the elements of social progress emerge very vaguely in the fog of Mr. Bulgakov’s metaphysical theory of progress. It is no wonder that, busy with his metaphysical and religious doulas, our author forgot about what decisive conclusions can be reached if one wishes to take advantage of his careless remarks regarding the insignificant value of the class struggle, understood in the individual ethical sense hanging in the air. Who knows, perhaps in this one example the suitability of the metaphysical-ethical point of view as applied to social problems can be tested.
The analysis of Mr. Bulgakov's article is over. The author set out to substantiate the theory of progress on data from a metaphysically religious view. I tried to show the complete failure of this attempt. We have seen that neither with his general considerations about the relative importance of science, metaphysics, religion, nor with an analysis of the general premises of the theory of progress, nor with an analysis of individual theories of a positive nature, nor with his own teaching in this area did Mr. Bulgakov substantiate his argument that the theory of progress leads inevitably to metaphysical idealism. On the other hand, we also saw that Mr. Bulgakov’s metaphysical-idealistic construction within the framework of the theory of progress does not provide absolutely anything for illuminating the social question and, consequently, for substantiating the old social ideal. Metaphysics-religion, on the one hand, and the social question, on the other, were separate, independent problems before Mr. Bulgakov, and remain the same after him.
But in this last respect an objection can still be made. It may be said that the question of the relationship of metaphysical idealism to the social question, which, by the way, and even most importantly requires the resolution of the antithesis of being and obligation, a detailed interpretation of moral teaching, etc., was not included in Mr. Bulgakov’s special topic. But I just wanted to emphasize the lack of proof of all this in this author, as in the previous one, Mr. P.G. Now I will also turn to Mr. Berdyaev, whose article bears a title, as it were, specially adapted for this: “The Ethical Problem in the Light of Philosophical Idealism.” And if in Mr. Berdyaev we do not find what we need, then don’t we have the right to express the assumption that the cause of all this failure is not Mr. P.G., not Mr. Bulgakov, not Mr. Berdyaev and not any other author, but something more general: the essence, character, content of the doctrine professed by all these authors - metaphysical idealism?
A.S. Volzhsky. Literary Echoes 786
Regarding Mr. Bulgakov's book
History does not repeat itself - this is true, but it is very often remembered; history does not renew the past and experience in new and new editions, but it often reminds itself. The individuality of history passes once and never comes back, but the emerging new in its changes and combinations is very similar to the old, already past...
Peering into the evolution of modern trends, observing the influx of social passions from Marxism to idealism, clearly expressed in such large and typical ideological grooves as Mr. Struve’s book “On Various Topics” published three years ago and Mr. Bulgakov’s just published book “From Marxism to Idealism” - you involuntarily recall something that has already become a thing of the past, but is not yet completely outdated, still alive, interesting and a bright page from the history of our ideological passions. I'm talking about the complications of the ideological movements of the late 60s, about the change of two glorious decades of our social consciousness. Of course, these ten-year boundaries are too rough a framework to designate such complex phenomena as changes in social hobbies and moods; but I find it difficult to replace them with another, more precise, more relevant word.
A parallel suggests itself between the modern transition from Marxism to idealism and the change in hobbies of the 60s, natural science materialism, Pisarevsky realism 787, utilitarianism, a kind of amoralism - criticism of the positivism of the 70s, the subjective idealism of Mikhailovsky and Martov... 788 Of course, the parallel between these two phenomena is not permissible in their entirety, but only between separate, specific sides of them. What is being compared here is not so much the content of ideological passions - it is significantly different in both cases - but mainly the motives for changing the dominant trends, their moods, their psychological foundations.
Mr. Bulgakov is well acquainted with Marxism; he is familiar with it through personal experience, and therefore correctly understands its psychology, which often sharply contradicts the logical constructions of this teaching and is little understandable to the view of an outside researcher. From its philosophical, logical side, Marxism is one of the most consistently carried out types of positivism; from the psychological side, it is not so much a scientific theory as an unconscious moral faith, a religious mood in a hidden form. “Marxism,” says Mr. Bulgakov, “is characterized by many features of a purely religious teaching and, although in principle it denies religion as a bourgeois “ideology,” in certain aspects it itself is an undoubted surrogate of religion. He explains to a person - for better or worse - himself; assigns him a certain place in the world and history, indicates his responsibilities, gives him the purpose of life and activity, in a word, helps him comprehend his existence.
In large circles of Russian and European society, where dogmatic positivism has already crystallized into a kind of creed, even having acquired a shade of purely clerical intolerance, an undying religious need is satisfied by the quasi-scientific theory of progress, and of all the theories of progress in circulation, Marxism contains the largest number of truly scientific elements, and for that reason alone should have the greatest success. This attractiveness of it for religious atheists is further enhanced by the fact that, despite its relative scientific nature, a hot spring of social utopianism flows in Marxism, feeding purely religious animation. It also has its own eschatology in the doctrine of social cataclysm (Zusammenbruchstheorie) and the “leap” from the capitalist kingdom of necessity to the socialist kingdom of freedom, to Zukunfstaat, earthly paradise.
Of course, these elements of Marxism are in undoubted, although unconscious, inconsistency with its usual scientific dryness and prosaic realism; but it is precisely in this combination of scientific and utopian elements, logically unnatural, but psychologically completely understandable, that the special charm of Marxism 789 lies. Thanks to this, under the outer shell of science, he can not only satisfy the demands of reason, but also quench the religious thirst for the absolute” (pp. IX–X).
The religious character of the Marxist movement is supported both by its practice, full of idealistic inspiration, and even more so by its writings, which sometimes reach real fanaticism in their extreme manifestations. Unconscious religion, non-recognition, intimidated morality, unpatented, even ridiculed idealism - all this has always lived in Marxism, invisibly and imperceptibly huddling under the harsh appearance of its materialism, immoralism and atheism, or irreligiosity. The Marxist bashfully hid from himself and from others the high idealistic rise of his moral aspirations and religious requests, as something self-evident, self-resolving, being content only with what reality itself gives, which follows with the logic of iron necessity from the dialectically developing process of social life. He firmly, fanatically believed that history would give exactly what he needed; He was convinced of this by his belief in “scientific socialism.”
The Marxist could not find words to express the hidden requests of his soul; he was afraid of literary garments worn out and soiled by enemies, and therefore remained silent. He was either an idealist sans phrases 790, a purely religious fanatic who bashfully hid his religious inspiration from the eyes of the world, or an atheist who believed in atheism as a religion, who found in amoralism, in the denial of moral judgment over life, a kind of moral imperative; in a word, he was a “religious atheist,” as Mr. Bulgakov involuntarily and paradoxically calls him. He, as Mr. Bulgakov wittily noted elsewhere 791, is like that disobedient son in the parable who said “I will not go,” but went to his Father’s work...
The psychology of Marxism, not as a scientific theory, but as a living social movement, an intellectual passion, is highly characterized by a bizarre combination of conscious materialism with disguised unconscious idealism. Its stern, objective appearance hides the utopian and even romantic psychological core of an ardent faith; his so-called “scientific socialism” is richly imbued with completely unscientific, irrational elements of feeling and will, and with the ardent inspiration of religious faith.
But the same complex amalgam of materialism and idealism is also characteristic of the ideological mood of the dominant trends in literature of the 60s.
N.K. Mikhailovsky in several places of his writings perfectly shows how the people of the 60s combined harsh materialism with the highest idealism. With amazing power of apologetic criticism, he revealed the idealistic essence of this movement, freeing it from anti-idealistic doctrines. In an article about Shelgunov 792, Mikhailovsky says:
“Having liquidated the affairs of the old system, it (the literature of the 60s) certainly had to devote a significant part of its efforts to debunking the fictitious sublimity of human nature. Man is an animal organism - this is how many literary works of that time can be summarized. It is indisputable that, defending this thesis in different ways, in positive and negative forms, in its entire volume or in parts, literature sometimes went overboard. Under other conditions, she would probably have refrained from certain techniques and generalizations aimed at reducing psychological processes to physiological processes, or social science in general to natural science, or the moral principle to egoism. But at the basis of all these hobbies (I am the first to admit their deplorability) lies an undoubted, albeit incomplete, one-sided truth. This is the first thing. Secondly, they still contain the instructive courage of recognizing a fact, since it is a fact, no matter how offensive or scary it may be.
Moreover, in the very spirit that enlivened the 60s, there was something that introduced a certain amendment here, which in a unique way refracted even erroneous and one-sided theoretical generalizations when they passed into the field of practical issues” 793.
In another place in his writings, N.K. Mikhailovsky says that it was they, the young men of the beginning of the movement of the 60s, who were attracted to materialistic systems. They wanted to “know the unvarnished truth about what exists, about the world as it is.”
“That’s why we favored,” he says, “various philosophical systems called materialism, realism, positivism. Actually, we have never looked particularly closely at philosophical systems and rather indiscriminately piled them together, as long as they promised us the truth.” What was important was the sober truth, the truth, the rest, it seemed, would follow on its own, and then it really did follow. Honest to the point of severity, at the same time youthfully shy, the idealism of the 60s was entirely expressed in the selfless desire to “fearlessly look into the eyes of reality and its reflection, the truth.” This fearlessness, generally speaking, is possible only precisely in view of a high ideal and, moreover, so undoubted that its moral value will not be diminished in the least, no matter how harsh the answer reality responds to its requests. Good is fearlessness.
It is precisely this kind of fearlessness that makes this kind of idealism gravitate and often very indiscriminately gravitate toward theoretical materialism, realism, objectivism or positivism, etc. But there is something else, besides fearlessness in the face of reality, that makes these hidden idealists strongly emphasize the truth-truth, and sometimes exclusively take its point of view, as if completely ignoring and silencing the truth-justice. This something is a special moral modesty, which forces us to hide our “holy of holies” from prying eyes, and often from ourselves. The ideal lives in the soul of such a materialist-idealist, but the high value of the ideal is so undoubted for him that it becomes completely insensitive; he is so full of the inner radiance of his God that he is somehow embarrassed and simply does not consider it necessary to talk about Him. He does not notice God, although he is full of Him; sometimes he even ridicules, blasphemes Him and renounces the name of God; but even then his sin is small, for he does not know what he is doing...
But more often than not, a harsh materialist of this type does not talk about his ideal for the same reasons that a healthy person does not talk about his health and does not take care of it until, however, he gets sick... The good side of this unconscious, innocent, idealism that has not yet awakened and assessed itself is that he, as a whole, deeply feeling person, does not speak beautiful and magnificent words about his feelings; he simply, in his unconscious bliss, does not realize that they can be said (he often says “quite the opposite”), perhaps because
True feeling is not given
Express yourself in pompous terms:
It is already full of itself,
And he has no need for their decorations...
Thus, not only out of a thirst for fearlessness of thought, but also out of bashful restraint, especially characteristic of a young, youthful mood, which is so confident in itself and so believes in life, idealism of this kind is sometimes clothed in the harsh rags of materialism, positivism and other more or less terrible “isms” that “promise sober truth”...
And if in the “general spirit of the 60s”, in their mood, there was something that “in a peculiar way refracted even erroneous and one-sided theoretical generalizations when they passed into the field of practical issues,” then there was the same “something” in the Marxist movement of the 90s, which forced many of its formulas and abstract positions to be understood very, very conditionally, which peculiarly refracted them “when passing into the field of practical questions.”
And we, in fact, find here the most bizarre refractions, the most whimsical theoretical patterns, as if woven from the contradictions of philosophical constructs and psychological motives of the movement: the denial of the living human personality and its role in the historical process in the name of the triumph of this personality in the coming system, fearlessly bold, harsh, even cruel realism, arising, however, from idealistic and humanistic motives, historical materialism, an apology for the dialectical necessity, thoroughly imbued with social utopianism, immoralism denying the right of moral judgment over the phenomena of social life, arising from deeply moral, albeit perversely understood, motives, etc., etc. These and similar combinations, of which there are a lot, vividly resemble those peculiar refractions of the 60s, about which N. K. Mikhailovsky wrote.
From the same sources stems the idolatry of Marxism, its peculiar worship of reality, its deification.
Marxism in theory clearly sinned by worshiping reality, deifying fact, or, more precisely, the necessity of the dialectical process of historical development, because this necessity promised in advance with its victorious march to realize the ideal with the iron compulsion of natural historical law.
The entire historical process is inevitably progress, because the necessarily existing through its development creates the ideal, because the ideal is necessary, because the ideal and reality in the process of dialectical development are one, because capitalism with all its contradictions by the force of things inevitably leads to socialism, because, in the end, deterioration is also improvement, from the impoverishment of the working class its liberation develops dialectically - in a word, because “the worse, the better.” Thus, the ideal and reality are ultimately reconciled through their identification in the process of historical necessity.
There was nothing like this, of course, in the literature of the 60s. Despite the inspired attraction to fact, despite the triumph of all kinds of realism, despite natural scientific materialism and extreme determinism, which denies free will and the independence of mental processes, this literature was alien to fact-worship and the deification of reality; she did not sin with them even in theory, boldly putting forward the principle of personality and personal creativity. But in some of its aspects, in general outlines, the then philosophical materialism of Vocht and Buchner 794 still has some points of contact with historical materialism. Perhaps this is why some of the adherents of the Marxist movement of the 90s, like, for example, Mr. Ilyin 795, in their refusal of inheritance and their struggle with the generation of “fathers”, had mainly in mind the people of the 70s, and not the 60s. By the 60s, the attitude was generally more merciful...
But, in any case, in the mood of the literature of the 60s there was something in this respect that makes it similar to Marxism. This is the enormous trust she showed in reality, a trust that was much more understandable in those days than in the 90s. And moreover, that trust was based on the immediate charm of the grandiose events taking place with one’s own eyes; Marxism’s trust in the muddy waves of the spontaneous flow of life rested entirely on philosophical schemes built by the combined tricks of Hegelian dialectics, economic science and ardent faith born of militant inspiration; there were more of the first and third, but of the second, as it became clearer later, there was very little, especially in comparison with the enormous importance of the decisions and formulas made...
But in both cases, subsequent experience of life and thought showed that trust was excessive and premature. True, the older sixties did not fully share this trust. It is enough to point to Dobrolyubov, who, even at the dawn of the reforms of the 60s, spoke about the fragility of spring in our stunted, consumptive climate.
Not everyone, of course, surrendered entirely to reality in Marxism... But we mean mainly the general spirit of the time, the general average level of direction, its resultant... And in both cases, in the 60s and 90s, it was under the spell of reality, only in the first case empirical, in the second - abstract, schematic...
While it seemed that reality itself was going exactly where it needed to go, the general fundamental principles of the worldview on which the movement rested, the defects of the philosophical position were insensitive, moral duty, moral sermons and slogans often seemed unnecessary, taken for granted; Everyone seemed to agree here. This was the case in the 60s, and this was also the case in the Marxist movement.
But the first youthful, spring mood disappeared, years passed, the state of affairs became more clear, and it became clear that reality did not fulfill everything that it promised and promised, in which it was encouraging and with which it pleased earlier, still vaguely outlined in the heat of high spirits or in the enthusiasm for schematic constructions. It turned out that the basic principles of the position taken cause serious complications, amendments and modifications. There was a deeply ripe need not only for a fearlessly bold recognition of the fact, but for a definite and conscious clarification of one’s ultimate ideals; one truth-truth, truth-reality was less and less satisfying; a conscious formulation of the question of truth-justice, truth-ideal was required. Questions of the theory of progress come next.
In place of the theory of rational egoism, in place of Pisarev’s peculiar amoralism, the doctrine of duty to society, the people and history is put forward, there are disputes about the price of progress, about the responsibilities of the intelligentsia, the feverishly intense, passionate work of conscience is heard... The need for a more specific and conscious clarification of the general moral and philosophical foundations of the worldview has emerged - dogmatic materialism, rationalistic Pisarev’s realism, the indiscriminate attraction to all sorts of “isms” that promise sober truth has ceased to be completely satisfying; the need to complicate the worldview began to be felt more and more palpably... The answer to all these requests was the subjective idealism of Mikhailovsky and Martov, the system of dual truth and the doctrine of the moral responsibility of the intelligentsia for the ever-increasing cost of progress, with all the practical consequences of this responsibility in its refractions in public affairs...
Here, of course, is only the most clear, most conscious and definite expression of the ideological mood of the 70s.
Something similar later happened to Marxism during its transition to idealism. Unconscious morality, a blind, hidden god was no longer enough; the ideal hidden somewhere in the depths of the doctrine of the historical necessity of socialism, an ideal subordinate to reality, ceased to satisfy. Reality itself, in the course of its development, is far from ensuring the realization of this ideal, as it seemed to “scientific socialism”; socialism remained, but its scientific character faded, withered, became discolored; other reinforcements were required; It was no longer possible to trust reality and only reality, even if it was developing dialectically. There was a need for a conscious distinction between reality and ideal. There was a desire to recognize the ideal as an autonomous value, independent of one or another outcome of the historical drama, to free it from the rapidly flowing, ever-changing stream of historical waves, and not to drown it with a light heart in the depths of the dialectical process of history, not to dissolve it in materialistic monism.
At first, only an unconscious and vague dissatisfaction, and then a conscious desire to profess one’s ideal, one’s God, without any special support from such gigantic abstract-schematic piles as the inevitability, due to internal immanent laws, of the transformation of capitalism into socialism, the need to free it from the spontaneous process of development of social reality, to establish it consciously and autonomously - ultimately led Marxism to a radical restructuring of its philosophical principles, its moral and religious foundations The rough materialistic shell of the philosophical teachings of Marxism could not withstand the pressure of hidden religious-idealistic sentiments; Marxism became bored in the stuffy confines of its dogma, yearned for man, for God; the soul, squeezed by the grip of amoralism and atheism, asked for freedom, space, asked for an open, frank faith, thought about eternity and immortality... The search for the meaning of life began.
For some, they brought painful pain and the melancholy of an unquenched thirst, for others - joyful revelations, the joy of the calm possession of the acquired truth... But in both cases, the Rubicon was crossed - orthodox Marxism was left behind... As a result of this difficult and painful struggle with itself, as a result of this internal philosophical revolution, Marxism does not want to recognize itself... 796 True, here in the philosophical basis of the worldview arose an incomparably more acute, more radical change than was the case in the change from the 60s to the 70s; But Marxism and idealism have no less internal, psychological connection, unity in the sphere of life aspirations, in the sphere of social policy than the movement of the 60s with the trends of the 70s that complicated it. For a long time, since the 70s, in the socio-political atmosphere of the time there was no such unifying principle as there is now, and it would seem that philosophical differences could least of all disturb it.
Meanwhile, Marxism, which did not appreciate the deeds of its fathers and grandfathers and, in turn, was not appreciated by them, now does not want to recognize its own children; he raises the question of their illegality, their political incompetence, and even sarcastically hints at the bourgeois genesis of their hobbies, at the proven reactionary nature of their teachings. He would have thrown them from the Tarpeian rock of his dogma if the laws of Sparta now existed.
But he who does not want to know his parents and does not recognize his children will inevitably remain alone; Without the historical continuity of ideas, every business is a dead thing.
If before Marxism ignored moral and religious problems due to youthful modesty, from a healthy plethora, from an excess of good feelings, an excess of spontaneous morality, now it does not want to notice this out of directional stubbornness and stands firmly on its own, thus being an indicator of someone else's movement... But what went to the young man is indecent to a husband... There was innocence, by its very nature spontaneously moral, here innocence. When Adam and Eve lived in paradise, they were naked and were not ashamed of their nakedness, because they did not know what nakedness was; but, expelled from paradise, they noticed that they were naked, and were ashamed of it... Savages are also not ashamed of their nakedness, it is touching to see the nakedness of a child, but if an adult stubbornly, proudly wants to remain naked - to live without moral and religious sanction - then it becomes awkward, embarrassed for him... Let Marxism also be ashamed of its nakedness, for its time has passed...
Now, one can relate to Marxism the words said once and, we must admit, with much less right, by one of its ardent adherents to the populist movement: “Marxism played a major role in the mental development of Russian society, but its role has been played.” Yes, his role has been played, but the game he started continues in a new light...
Marxism did not degenerate into an extreme form of idealism, of course, right away; Between the form in which it first appeared in the 90s in our literature, and the point to which it has now developed in the last works of Mr. Bulgakov, there is a long series of intermediate formations, which in a continuous, imperceptibly expanding and thinning ring pass into one another until the specific features of Marxist dogma are almost completely destroyed. Collections such as Mr. Struve’s “On Various Topics” or Mr. Bulgakov’s “From Marxism to Idealism” perfectly demonstrate this evolution. The path traversed by Mr. Bulgakov is in many respects even more characteristic and in its final stages, from our point of view, more significant... At its starting points we have much more orthodoxy, and at its final points we have a much more decisive bias towards religious idealism than other Marxist idealists...
Unable to sustain the consistent implementation of the basic principles of its philosophy, Marxism turned first of all to the critical, or transcendental idealism of that school of neo-Kantianism, which shuns Kantian metaphysics. One of its most important and, at this historical moment, especially valuable position is the recognition of the independence of the moral point of view of the autonomy of the ideal. At this stage of its reincarnations, Marxism came very close to some essential elements of subjective idealism, the system of dual truth of N.K. Mikhailovsky, but, unfortunately, it did not sufficiently realize, appreciate and use this closeness in its time... But within the framework of transcendental idealism, the problem of the absolute value of the human personality can only be posed, but cannot be resolved...
Namely, the desire to preserve the absolute dignity of the human person in every person, the cult of man in every human person, the Christian idea of all-humanity, forced many Marxists to finally discover a driven, hidden thirst for God and religion; It was this unquenchable thirst that forced the gilded frames of the Marxist cage to be broken.
Transcendental idealism became not enough, it became scary to be left alone with an autonomous ideal, alone with the ever-incessant voice of a categorical moral imperative in an ever-irreconcilable war with reality, I wanted a mighty, even more powerful support than the iron historical necessity of Marxism, I also wanted an absolute support... And then absolute, metaphysical and religious idealism appeared, with an open, albeit too much yet rationalistic faith, now not in the immanent, but the transcendental reality of God the good, invested with the power of God the force, creative divine omnipotence.
We have stopped here only, mainly, at the first stage of the evolution of social passions, going from Marxism to idealism, only at Marxism in the proper sense. We will probably have to talk about idealism more than once in the future; then, perhaps, it will be possible to dwell on the analysis of Mr. Bulgakov’s book itself - a book, in any case, interestingly and passionately written, a book that awakens a person and reminds him of God.
Evg. Voronov. Sergei Bulgakov. From Marxism to idealism. Collection of articles (1896–1903). Petersburg, 1904 797
The first three articles of this book 798 are a monument to the Marxist period of Russian social thought; As for the rest 799, they represent a very curious idealistic - one cannot say philosophy; - and journalism. Whether the conditions of Russian life are to blame for this, or whether this is our national psyche, I don’t know, but the fact remains: criticism, natural science, economics, even the Venus de Milo itself (see “Straightened” by Gl. Uspensky) - all this was the subject of journalism for us, bordered on it and passed into it. And at the same time, all the main “schools” of Russian journalism have always stood and continue to stand in sharp conflict with Russian life. In life, man was neglected and offended, but he, with his spiritual needs and material needs, always stood at the center of literature. Humanism is one “formative” side of our intellectual and spiritual development. Another such side of it is the unconscious idealism that reigns throughout Russian literature from Cantemir 800 1 to Mr. Bulgakov.
Therefore, those who consider the latest trends in the Russian public to be superficial are wrong. On the contrary, these trends are naturally connected with the entire previous development of Russian social thought, and the new Russian idealism, with the “natural right of man” proclaimed by it, only strives to consciously formulate, crystallize, so to speak, everything with which the spiritual life of the Russian intelligentsia was saturated and imbued even before it.
But a complete formulation of this idealism, its conscious systematization can only be achieved in the future. Now, in the works of Mr. Bulgakov, this direction appears to the reader as still a minor and, perhaps, not even out of the crucible of doubt. That is why it is so fierce, so ebullient, so passionate. Books such as Mr. Bulgakov's collection, so far from philosophical systematics and essentially representing only a confession about the birth and birth pangs of a new worldview, cannot be approached with the usual critical template... One cannot demand correct crystallization from molten metal. Let it pour into its final form, solidify in it - and then come with the entire arsenal of learned criticism.
They also say that Mr. Bulgakov’s “philosophy” is reactionary. An old tale! Uninvited friends of progress artistically juggle the words “progress” and “reaction.” You need to be at least a little familiar with the history of Russian society and remember that Turgenev and Pisarev, Tolstoy and Bakunin, 801 Pushkin and Herzen were also once charged with “reactionism.” A person cannot be satisfied with knowledge of reality alone. Metaphysics and faith have often, if not always, penetrated into the strictest positive systems. It is entirely possible to catch up with them only at the cost of suicide of the spirit. But I would like to believe that it is still alive among modern guardians of positive etiquette. On their part, the contemptuous attitude towards the works of Mr. Bulgakov can only be explained by the well-known deathly scholasticism of our domestic positivism. For the scholastics of positivism, Mr. Bulgakov’s experiments are reactionary only because the natural rights and liberation of man were not proclaimed by him “from the stove” (remember the old joke), that is, not on the basis of philosophical-scientific empiricism, but from the super-experimental side.
From the concepts of “God”, “Man”, “Ideal”, which stand at the center of the modern worldview, radii diverge to all eternal and pressing, “damned” issues. The good news about the future liberation of humanity, coming from the metaphysical-religious side, becomes invulnerable to rationalistic criticism and acquires a new invincible force. But experimental science is not at all excluded by the new worldview, but is itself included in it as one of the means to achieve the ideal.
“Every passionate speech is beautiful,” said Carlyle, 802, and in this sense, Mr. Bulgakov’s book can even give the reader aesthetic pleasure. It can also be recommended as one of those noble, "restless" books that filter minds and are the worst enemies of self-righteous philistinism (regardless of whether it is conservative, liberal or radical).
In which direction Mr. Bulgakov is going - every conscientious reader will understand this, but where he will come and where he will stop is still unknown. In any case, this writer is a figure with whom Russian literature and the public must be reckoned both now and in the future.
A.A. Bogdanov. Echoes of the past (“From Marxism to Idealism.” Collection of articles by Mr. S. Bulgakov. St. Petersburg, 1904) 803
“Do not make yourself an idol...”
There is a deep fundamental difference between theoretical belief and faith. When a person resolves the questions that arise in his mind in a purely cognitive way, the answers he receives can be combined with a greater or lesser degree of certainty, from a simple “opinion” or assumption to exact knowledge, but, as Kant already found out, between all these degrees there is no one that would be called “faith.” The difference here is not just quantitative, but “qualitative”, and it lies in the fact that faith is a matter not only of knowledge, but also of the will, and even mainly of the will. Theoretical belief says: based on such and such facts and evidence, I think so and so; faith says: neither facts nor evidence are important to me - I feel that this is so. “I feel” here means both “I think” and “I want”, or rather “I think because I want” it to be so.
We often see that a person is trying to theoretically substantiate and prove the truth of his faith. People of strict and firm faith always have a negative attitude towards such attempts. Indeed, real faith does not need theoretical supports: its basis is an unshakable will that is true to itself, and for such a will what do arguments mean? If faith begins to look for arguments, then it is obvious that the will is no longer so strong, it is already betraying itself little by little - it is obvious that faith has been shaken. Living faith does not look for evidence, it does not even want it, as unnecessary, useless ballast.
This does not, however, change the fact that in life both parallelism and competition are possible between faith and theoretical conviction. The same questions are posed and resolved either from the point of view of faith or from the point of view of theoretical knowledge. There is also such a combination that from one point of view the question is posed, and from the other it is resolved. Most often, however, both elements are combined or, rather, mixed up in very different proportions, the two criteria replace each other every minute, and the ideological result has nothing to do with either the virgin naivety of faith or the cold purity of knowledge.
Various manifestations and traces of such confusion are to be found in almost every department of thought; but in the process of human development, the kingdom of ideological chaos is gradually narrowing, and in our time it extends mainly to the sphere of the so-called “last” or, in other words, “damned” questions, what are the questions about the essence of the world, about the meaning of life, about the origin of good and evil, etc.
Let us compare different formulations of the same question from the point of view of pure knowledge, from the point of view of faith, and from that confused point of view that is obtained by mixing the first two. Let the matter be about one of the “damned questions” - about the meaning of evil in life.
A representative of scientific philosophy, in order to have a clear and precise formulation of this question, tries, first of all, to determine the entire sum of real facts from which the question itself arises, the very need for its solution. At the same time, let us assume that it turns out that we are talking about the suffering that living beings have to directly experience in various conflicts with elemental nature and other beings. Once this has been established, the problem becomes clear to the researcher, and he expresses it approximately this way:
First, it is necessary to determine under what real conditions suffering arises, under which it increases, decreases, and disappears.
Secondly, it is necessary to determine what results suffering causes for the sufferer himself - in the sense of the development of his life or its degradation, and under what conditions; how does it influence his subsequent relationships to external nature and to other living beings; in what sense and to what extent is it a positive or negative condition for subsequent pain or pleasure, etc.
So, the point is to find the place of suffering in the life chain of causes and effects. If the cognizer has solved, at least approximately, this problem, then he has a certain theoretical conviction about the meaning of evil in life. What is the relationship of this acquisition to the will of the knower?
On the one hand, the starting point of the study was, of course, an impetus from the will - but it was only the will to knowledge. Then, in the process of research itself, the will remained neutral and did not make any demands or instructions regarding the results of the research: knowledge was “pure knowledge.” The result was a theoretical belief; What will the will do with him? She can be guided by him in her pursuit of certain goals. If, for example, the goal is the direct elimination of suffering, then the developed theoretical belief indicates what conditions must be met in order to achieve this goal, and to what extent it is generally achievable. If the goal is the development of life, its fullness and harmony, then the theory finds out to what extent and under what circumstances suffering can serve as a means to achieve this goal, and when it is, on the contrary, an obstacle on the way to it, etc. In a word, the theory outlines ways for the will to master suffering - to eliminate it or make it a means for those goals set by the will.
And theory fulfills this task the better, the more perfectly, the more “pure” the knowledge that created it was, the less it allowed interference in its work from the practical will.
Now let's see in what form the same question about the meaning of evil in life appears from the point of view of faith. In order not to distort the views of others, we will take a ready-made formulation from the pen of one of the modern representatives of the faith:
“This is the problem of theodicy (divine justice - A.B.) in the proper sense of the word... This is the greatest and most important problem not only of the metaphysics of history, but of all moral philosophy. Here a “justification of good” must be given... which must at the same time be a justification for evil, evil in nature, in man, in history. Philosophy must show the internal impotence of evil, its illusory nature, its—it’s scary to say—ultimate rationality” 804.
The point is quite clear: philosophy “must” resolve the question, of course, quite “honestly,” as the man of faith further points out, but certainly in such a sense that evil turns out to be “powerless” and “ghostly,” and, therefore, “reasonable.” She “must” come to this particular decision, and not to any other. “Why should I?” – you ask. Yes, because,” the man of faith answers, “with a different decision there could be no faith, and life would not be worth living.” In other words, she should because it is highly desirable for me. The question is decided by the will, and “philosophy” must “freely” obey and create suitable formulas. If she doesn’t do this, then... but in the future we will see what will happen to her in the event of a conflict with her will.
Let us assume that philosophy has submitted to the “primacy” of the will and has resolved the question in the required sense. What will she give to these people? Of course, it will not indicate either new ways to fight evil, or new methods of transforming evil into a means to good - it will not help to really subjugate evil to human will. It will give something else: “a joyful conviction, more joyful than which nothing in the world can be,” as the same author explains a few lines further. With such a conviction, life is undoubtedly much easier and calmer...
But here is a third, mixed formulation of the question:
“Philosophy must honestly reckon with this question in its entirety, cowardly, without evading or belittling its difficulties, fearlessly looking into the eyes of hope and despair, and that philosophy that will endure this struggle victoriously and go through this thorny and painful path of doubt, without losing anything from its previous conviction in the rationality of existing things and the triumph of truth, is worthy of its name and can be a teacher of people... Happy, oh, thrice happy is the one who managed to honestly and sacredly suffer for this joyful conviction, for nothing in the world can be more joyful than this conviction” 805.
True firmness in faith is a very rare phenomenon these days - this explains the fact that behind the relatively pure formulation of the question in the spirit of faith, we immediately find in the same author another, allowing for some “doubts” and “difficulties”, allowing for the question “in its entire volume”, in a word, something that is quite natural in objective research, for which the question is not predetermined, but not in the philosophy of faith, for which the possibility of a negative solution is eliminated in advance from the “scope” of the question about the meaning of evil, and with with her all the “difficulties” and “doubts” 806.
What will a person gain from solving the question on the basis of this third posing of it? Yes, the same as with the second method of solution, plus, perhaps, repentance for previous doubts, sinful in relation to faith, and joy that they have been defeated. But until a proper solution is reached, there still remains the unpleasant risk of resolving the issue in a spirit of “despair” and “suffering” until all hope is lost. It is clear that this path is the worst.
But, the knowledgeable reader will note, you have not quite correctly portrayed the solution to questions on the path of faith in the sense that you are too exaggerating the subordination of thinking to practical will. That thought here also enjoys a certain freedom is sufficiently evidenced by the very fact of different answers to the same questions from different systems of believing thinking. – Indeed, for example, on the same question about the meaning of evil in life, one metaphysician will tell us one thing, another - another, a third - a third: a student of Plato will explain that evil does not have true reality, because such reality belongs only to “ideas”, and evil lies in the inadequacy of empirical things to their ideas, in the incompleteness of the embodiment of ideas; the disciple Mani 807 will talk about the struggle of two absolute principles, good and evil, and about the inevitable final victory of the first; student of the modern Gnostic Vl. Solovyova 808, Mr. Bulgakov, will tell, from the words of the teacher, about the family relationship between the absolute and the world soul, etc., etc.
All this is true, but what follows from this? If the will prescribes to thinking both the formulation of the question and the main meaning of the answer that should be obtained, then thinking can, of course, reward itself for its obedience with complete arbitrariness in the way of fulfilling the prescribed. But no matter how you combine obedience with arbitrariness, the result will never be what is called freedom, but there will only be a manifestation of two inextricably linked sides of authoritarian psychology - the psychology of submission and domination, and thinking gets the role of a slave who, taking advantage of moments of freedom, organizes unbridled orgies.
However, even the above-mentioned arbitrariness in the methods of carrying out what is prescribed has rather narrow boundaries or, rather, is associated with quite significant difficulties and inconveniences. The fact is that different solutions to the same questions, even if they agree with each other in their basic meaning, still necessarily collide, competing for dominance over minds, because they cannot all be accepted at the same time. What happens then? Let's start with the facts of reality.
Here is what Mr. Bulgakov says about the historical relationship between faith and reason: “... in living or “concrete” consciousness... all three sources of knowledge are inextricably linked: faith, reason and experience. In the history of philosophy, one of them has been put forward in turn, and both of the others have been declared madness, although living consciousness has never abandoned and cannot refuse them. In the era of the dominance of theology, abstract clericalism, as Solovyov put it, the rights of one blind “harlot” not enlightened by the reason of faith were recognized; For the glory of faith, the fires of the Inquisition burned against free inquiry. Centuries passed, and faith suffered the same persecution from reason and science to which it had subjected them in its time: the most legitimate and sacred needs of faith were ridiculed or simply ignored” 809.
Let us make an important amendment: the “bonfires of the Inquisitions” were much more impartial than Mr. Bulgakov portrays them; they were “inflamed” not only against free research, but also - and even more so - against free faith, against any creativity in matters of faith. “Reason and Science” are also not so one-sided - most of all they ridicule and then ignore not “sacred needs”, but bad theoretical constructs. Both sides were quite consistent and conscientious in their “persecution.” But here’s the question: how did Mr. Bulgakov have enough... composure to write the words “the same persecution”? How is mocking criticism and ignoring “the same kind of persecution” as bonfires? I, a partisan of “reason and science”, who allowed myself to talk in a joking tone about the enlightened clericalism of Mr. Bulgakov and not attach much importance to his dogmatic broadcasts, am I “the same persecutor” as the inquisitor who burned Giordano Bruno 810?! Yes, Mr. Bulgakov knows how to choose an advantageous position for himself...
Mr. Bulgakov did not see the deepest fundamental difference - a moralist would call this difference “ethical” - between the methods of struggle in both cases. And this difference follows from the basic content of the principles whose struggle we are talking about.
When a theoretical belief fights against other beliefs, the essence of the matter can be expressed by the following formula: “I think so, but he thinks differently, therefore, it is necessary to refute it.” To refute means to show the internal contradictions of a given idea or its contradiction with the facts. This must be shown not only for the opponent, but also for everyone who can become familiar with his idea, and for this it is necessary to depict the contradictions in a living, visual, accessible form - and this is primarily a humorous form, especially since the essence of the “comic” lies precisely in a contradiction that is easily overcome by the psyche. So much for “ridicule.” Sometimes the contradictions are too obvious - then there is no need to formally refute them, but rather “ignore them.” This is the logic of a purely theoretical struggle.
Another thing is the struggle of faith against faith. There is little here of the formula that expresses the struggle of theoretical convictions. Faith, as a primary, undifferentiated form, contains elements of both thinking and will, with a decisive predominance of the latter. “I believe this way, but he believes differently” - this opposition, if taken out of its embryonic form and presented in expanded form, decomposes into two formulas: “I think this way, but he thinks differently” and “I want it this way, but he wants it differently.” The conclusion from the first formula is the same as before: “therefore, it must be refuted,” hence the theoretical disputes between people who believe differently. But the conclusion from the second is obviously completely different: one will cannot “refute” another, it can only break it or destroy it. From here both torture and the fire follow with complete consistency. The Inquisition was not mistaken in this: it had good logic, which its current, flabby-sentimental descendants are far from matching.
And this is quite understandable: after all, the Inquisition had real power, in which there was no need to retreat to extreme practical conclusions from its own worldview.
Here lies the actual limit to “freedom”, or rather to arbitrariness in matters of faith.
From the previous, we can apparently draw the conclusion that with the transition from the thinking of a believer to strict knowledge, mental life becomes poorer in content: after all, at the same time, the elements of will are eliminated from the sphere of thinking - therefore, less remains than it was. This is exactly the opinion of Mr. Bulgakov.
“Thanks to these features, the circle of what is accessible to faith is wider than the circle of what is accessible to discursive thinking; You can even believe in something that is not only completely unprovable, but also cannot be made completely understandable to reason, and this area actually constitutes the special property of faith. Considering the matter exclusively from the formal side, we must, therefore, say that the knowledge (no matter how little, I repeat, this word is suitable here) that faith gives is richer and broader than that given by experimental science and metaphysics: if metaphysics breaks the boundaries of experimental knowledge, then faith destroys the boundaries of the intelligible” 811.
We will, of course, leave aside the question of metaphysics: this intermediate form does not interest us now, since we are dealing with more definite and extreme types of thinking. It is important to find out how mental life changes when the moment of cognition and the moment of will are strictly differentiated from one another and cease to mix with each other.
Cognition, freed from the authoritarian intervention of the will, obviously benefits, first of all, in the sense that it becomes “freer” in its creativity, gets the opportunity not to retreat in the face of such conclusions that were previously psychologically impossible, as offending “feeling” (the word “feeling” in these cases is a vague designation for the general direction of the will). Knowledge also benefits in the sense that new areas open up for research that were previously completely inaccessible to it, such as, for example, the objective nature and genesis of the same believing thinking in all its various forms (the latter could, of course, consider itself only as a given, namely, given from above, and therefore not subject to objective research). In general, liberated cognition progresses both quantitatively and qualitatively.
What about will? Doesn't she suffer great damage, having lost an entire vast area over which her influence previously extended? To judge this, one must take into account what kind of tribute she received from this area.
All slavery corrupts not only the slave, but also the master. The gentleman becomes accustomed to flattery and falls into effeminacy. In order to please its ruler, the will, believing thinking postulates what is desirable for the will (for example, at least “the illusory nature and impotence of evil”), and thereby satisfies and calms the will. If the desired has already been postulated and recognized as more real than reality itself, then why worry about its “visible” implementation? Vassal thinking brings opium and hashish as tribute to the suzerain will and, poisoning it with quietism, takes revenge on it for its slavery.
Enlightened clericalism, however, does not want to admit this fact. Mr. Bulgakov states:
“...with the recognition of the reasonableness of the general plan of history, we are in no way freed from the obligation to love good and hate evil and fight it, since it has been given a place in life and in history. This recognition can only strengthen confidence in the victory of good and thereby raise the spirit to fight evil” 812.
But comparing this with what was said earlier about the meaning of evil in life, we see that there is a clear inconsistency here, or, rather, one of those cases when Mr. Bulgakov, in his own words, “breaks the boundaries of the intelligible” and “even believes in something that is not only completely unprovable, but also cannot be made completely understandable to reason.” After all, if evil is illusory and powerless, then how can you take it seriously? “To hate evil and fight it,” knowing that it is only an appearance - doesn’t this mean throwing yourself with anger at the villain appearing in a movie picture, or sending seconds to a cursing phonograph?
In this case, Mr. Bulgakov's conclusions obviously do honor to his noble feelings, but not to his logic 813.
Thinking, freed from subordination to the will, in turn, frees the will from the anesthesia of comforting illusions, and the activity of the will can unfold to its fullest. From this time on, the will finds in knowledge not an obliging flatterer, but a faithful comrade who conscientiously shows the will the best means to achieve its goals, clarifies the chances of their implementation, the degree of their progressiveness and, in general, their relationship to the general course of life.
A strict distinction in mental life between the moment of cognition and the moment of will eliminates obstacles to the development of both cognition and will. This creates the possibility of free progress in the depth and clarity of cognition, on the one hand, and the activity of the will, on the other. The energy of mental life increases.
In the preface to his book “From Marxism to Idealism,” Mr. Bulgakov tells the story of his Canossa 814. The essence of the matter is this: Mr. Bulgakov used to believe in Marxism, and then very correctly found that this was a very unsuitable object for faith, and began to look for other objects; the search was crowned with complete success, as soon as Mr. Bulgakov “broke the boundaries of the intelligible,” boundaries that, as we know, are determined by logic. – By this, Mr. Bulgakov completely protected himself from polemics on the merits from those who remained on this side of the boundaries of logic, and our task in relation to him can be formulated as follows: to describe and, if possible, explain, but not to refute.
So, Mr. Bulgakov “believed” in Marxism, and this was a big mistake not only from his point of view, but also from ours. The “special property of faith” is, in the words of Mr. Bulgakov himself, “that which is not only completely unprovable, but also cannot be made completely understandable to reason.” Obviously, for Marxism such a characterization would be too flattering, and in fairness it did not deserve it. In fact, is there a place in it for believing thinking, undifferentiated from will?
From various vital contradictions in the social relations of people, for individuals and entire classes, a certain practical task arises: to master the social relations of people in the interests of humanity. This task expresses a certain direction of active will. The inexpediency of the first instinctive attempts of the will in this direction (intelligent and non-intelligent utopianism - appeals to the philanthropy of the ruling classes, the destruction of machines, etc.) awakens the will to knowledge: the task is set to understand how and under what conditions social relations change. This is a theoretical task. If it is allowed, then we have a certain theoretical conviction regarding the nature of social relations and the patterns of their change. Based on it, a person comes to clarify the following questions: in what direction do the existing relationships of people themselves change, in addition to the active intervention of the conscious will? What additional conditions can be created by this intervention?
Is the main task feasible - to master social relations in the interests of humanity - is it feasible in the given direction of the spontaneous development of these relations, and how can additional conditions make this implementation as easy as possible, can reduce the waste of humanity’s forces, which this implementation will cost? How to create these conditions? etc. – As a result, we will have a harmonious system of conscious life, in which the active will, striving for a real life goal, has as its leader free knowledge, outlining expedient means. One of such possible systems is Marxism, but not the one in which Mr. Bulgakov “believed.”
The fact is that such a system leaves no place within itself for believing thinking. In it, the direction of the active will is determined by the needs of life, and the conclusions of the theory are determined by the material of experience; these conclusions may be a hypothesis, but not an object and, especially, not a result of faith, because they are obtained on the path of objective knowledge, and not a subjective “feeling,” motivated by the facts of experience, and not by the “legitimate needs” of the will, for which it is desirable that it be this way and not otherwise. In such a system as we have described, cognition and will are mutually differentiated and do not mix with each other.
However, it often happens that a person, encountering such a system in life, makes it an object of faith; this happened, as we know, with Mr. Bulgakov, a learned economist, but it also happens - and most often - with undeveloped, poorly educated people who “out of feeling” join a poorly understood worldview. How is this possible?
Things happen differently in different cases, and it is not difficult to establish two main types of similar phenomena. In one case, a person, due to lack of knowledge and development, perceives this system vaguely and unclearly; it is close and attractive to his soul, because it corresponds to the direction of his will, but the theoretical side of the system is inaccessible to his verification, and even usually not all of it is known to him. Then he accepts its conclusions “on faith”, “postulates” them, because he wants the whole system to be true. Here faith is the result of insufficient knowledge. Over time, it is replaced by knowledge or, generally speaking, theoretical belief. It is enough for a person to acquire the knowledge and experience necessary to test the theory - and he moves into the highest phase of worldview: he consciously accepts or rejects the theory, not because he instinctively wants to accept or reject, but because the theory turns out to be in accordance or not in accordance with the entire sum of his experience and knowledge.
The embryonic form of thinking is replaced by a developed one, the “instinctive” is replaced by the “conscious”.
In other cases, the essence of the matter lies not in a lack of knowledge and experience, but in the type of thinking. A person stands on the point of view of believing thinking and is fundamentally unable to leave it. He believes because he lives by faith, because his thinking cannot free itself from subordination to the will, and the will does not want to give up the right to prescribe to thinking. Such a person inevitably perceives the system we have described in a distorted form, namely, as a system of faith. The theoretical provisions of the system are presented to him not as conclusions from experience, exact or approximate, but as “postulates”; they are true for him because they are desirable, the rest is not important to him. At the same time, what is conditional in theory, he considers as unconditional, in hypotheses he sees dogmas, etc. It is clear that the system in which he believes is not at all the one that others recognize; it is a fetishized system. It is also clear that, being thus perverted, it must turn out to be disharmonious, full of contradictions and confusion, arising entirely from the confusion of the thinking of the believer and the free one.
A person ceases to be satisfied with such a bad faith, and is looking for a new one, which would be a real faith, and not a perverted theory. It’s not difficult to find, of course: you just have to look back into the past.
So it was with Mr. Bulgakov. The matter was complicated for him by the fact that he had, according to him, two faiths: in Marx and in Kant. Mr. Bulgakov believed in Kant even more, since he “believed
Marx Kant." But, of course, both faiths quarreled, and Mr. Bulgakov preferred... the third.
A striking example of how a theoretical belief is distorted when it is turned into an object of faith can be Mr. Bulgakov’s reasoning about the scientific and philosophical theory of progress. He believes that this theory prescribes to believe in the unconditional necessity of progress, and naturally, he does not find sufficient prerequisites for this. In fact, this theory clarifies precisely the conditions of progress and indicates ways to master the elemental forces of life so as to direct them towards progress. It can also find, and assert with a certain degree of certainty, that this reality contains sufficient conditions for further progress - this is exactly how the modern theory of progress relates to the developed capitalist system. But to “postulate” progress as something necessary under all conditions, regardless of conditions, is not her business at all, but a matter of faith; and Mr. Bulgakov himself is responsible for all the inconsistencies of the “theory” that he criticizes. He was free to fantasize and “believe” where it was necessary to explore and understand 815.
Having refuted his old theory of progress, Mr. Bulgakov proposes a new one in its place, if only one can apply the expression “new” to dogma, in which “there is no word for less than three hundred years old.” This is what he “postulates”:
“So, the main premises of the theory of progress are as follows: moral freedom of the human person (freedom of will), as a condition for autonomous moral life; the absolute value of the individual and the ideal nature of the human soul, capable of endless development and improvement; absolute reason ruling the world and history; moral world order or the kingdom of moral goals, good not only as a subjective idea, but also an objective and powerful principle” 816.
A series of “unprovable” provisions that we must accept unquestioningly in order to “base” the “theory of progress” on them. Isn't Mr. Bulgakov demanding too much from us? But what if, despite all our efforts, we fail to believe at least one of these provisions? Then it is useless to believe in the rest - no “theory of progress” will work. And isn’t it better, without boring your faith with complex scholasticism, to simply and artlessly “postulate” only one “precondition” - progress itself - to say to yourself: “I believe in progress, because I really want it to happen,” and that’s it. True, then there is nothing to write long articles about, and, moreover, the naivety of faith will be obvious to everyone. But still, what is easier - to believe in six complex and ponderous premises, or in one simple and easy one - “progress”.
Of course, if we mean “mortification of the flesh” (more precisely, logic), then we must prefer the apparatus proposed by Mr. Bulgakov...
And Mr. Bulgakov is merciless towards the “flesh” and does not hesitate to demand the absolutely impossible from it. “Let us assume for a moment,” he says, “that we have the most accurate forecast for the next 10 years, and based on this forecast, all our best aspirations are doomed to failure. Does this mean that they should no longer be mandatory? No way. You can, because you must - this is the moral law" 817. In other words: bang your head against the wall, waste your strength in a deliberately fruitless manner, don’t dare save it and accumulate it for the time when it could be useful - “you can because you have to.” Let you become a disabled person, a harmful ballast for the cause by the time “the best aspirations” become practically feasible - all this means nothing - “you can because you have to.” “This formula is terrible,” believes Mr. Bulgakov. Is it so? Doesn't another characteristic fit her better?
Here, Mr. Bulgakov obviously implies another “premise” - credo, quia absurdum 818.
As we have seen, Mr. Bulgakov, during the time of his, as he put it, “atheistic faith,” distorted—unintentionally, of course—the scientific and philosophical theory of progress, attributing to it a belief in the unconditional necessity of progress. At the same time, the theory itself naturally acquired the color of crude fatalism, and the role of the progressive forces of history, the role of the advanced classes turned out to be illusory: is it reasonable to engage in creating the conditions for progress when its inevitability is still unconditional? Mr. Bulgakov did not know that real theory of progress, which studies its general conditions and for a given society recognizes or rejects its objective probability, finding in this society enough or not enough such conditions, and he still does not know that theory, because it does not fit into the framework of the forms of believing thinking. In his new “theory of progress,” the venerable economist significantly increased the color of fatalism, so that the “theory” turned out to be fatalistic in the most precise – literal meaning of the word.
The original meaning of the word “fatum” is “said,” and the pure idea of predestination includes the concept of a personal will that “said”—formulated and decreed—what would happen in advance. It is precisely this kind of personal will that Mr. Bulgakov now accepts as a “prerequisite for the theory of progress”; and the mockery of this will at the “absolute dignity of the human person,” which in its “free actions and aspirations” turns out to be “a means for the ends of the absolute,” he calls “absolute deceit.” Which of Mr. Bulgakov’s two forms of fatalism is more humiliating for man as a developing and active being? It seems to us that the latter: it is better to be a toy of impersonal forces that “don’t know what they are doing” than a toy of personal deceit. And the best thing is not to be a toy at all - but Mr. Bulgakov, of course, will not agree to this.
Curious are the objections that Mr. Bulgakov makes to critics who note the fatalistic nature of his “theory of progress.” First of all, he dismisses the positivist critics on the strange grounds that they themselves are fatalists. – Yes, if this were so, then how would it justify Mr. Bulgakov’s fatalism or make his “theory” less fatalistic? But, as usual, he incorrectly conveys the views of his opponents, turning their theory into faith, and their principles of knowledge into idols. In his opinion, by recognizing the “absolute dominance of the law of causality,” they thereby recognize some kind of fatum 819. It is obvious that the law of causality appears to the venerable professor not only as a personal being, “deceitful” over the will of people, nor as an independent elemental coercive force, “dominating” over them.
He, of course, knows, but he does not want to know and see that modern positivism considers the “law of causality” only a way to cognitively connect phenomena in a continuous series, only a form of coordination of experience - that it recognizes this form as historically developed, universal due to its expediency for knowledge, and subject to criticism and further development. Mr. Bulgakov prefers to end the history of positivism with the materialist Holbach, we live about 1 1/2 centuries ago. In general, Mr. Bulgakov knows how to choose the most advantageous position for himself. This, however, is a common feature of enlightened clericalism.
Then Mr. Bulgakov argues for himself against the charge of fatalism. From the point of view of believing thinking, his objections are probably very strong, but if you adhere to the “boundaries of the intelligible,” that is, logic, then they make a strange impression. These are the objections: “In any case, in my article I did not give reason to classify myself as a supporter of metaphysical fatalism, for I speak in it about duty, and about the categorical imperative, and about historical obligations, in a word, about such things that a fatalist, perhaps, should remain silent. On the contrary, I strive to reconcile necessity and freedom in my worldview, without sacrificing either freedom in favor of all-consuming determinism, or objective law in favor of absolute occasionalism and personal arbitrariness. The world and historical process can be thought of as such a planned process, the initial plan of which includes human freedom, as its main and necessary condition... the existence of a general providential plan is possible without any constraint on human freedom.
Of course, such a solution to the question of freedom and necessity can only be proposed in connection with an integral metaphysical doctrine... I personally find it in the philosophy of Vl. Solovyov, to whom I refer the reader” 820.
Mr. Bulgakov “talks about what a fatalist should be silent about: about duty, historical responsibilities,” etc. What does he prove by this? Apparently, only its inconsistency. But by the way, isn’t all this - duty, categorical imperative, and historical obligations - within the scope of fatal “cunning”? If freedom is “included in the plan”, and all its manifestations are “provided for”, that is, predetermined, then what kind of “freedom” is this? There’s even Vl. Soloviev will not do anything... And the whole “reconciliation of freedom and necessity” thus boils down to the fact that “cunning” cruelly mocks both. Glorious reconciliation!
We repeat once again: we do not at all mean to refute Mr. Bulgakov - this is impossible, because at any moment he can completely protect any shallow contradiction expressed by him from any criticism, declaring that it “cannot be made completely understandable to reason.” But we still have the right to state these contradictions, and it is up to the reader to judge them.
However, doesn’t the reader find that for real faith in Mr. Bulgakov’s “theory of progress” there are too many reasonings and scholastic subterfuges, while for the “theory” there are too many “unprovable postulates”?
It is hardly possible to stop there: this is an unstable combination.
Mr. Bulgakov is an economist by profession. Political economy is a science, not yet particularly accurate, but in any case a science, and as such it allows, of course, hypotheses and assumptions, but by no means the postulates of believing thinking. G. Bulgakov, however, did not change his nature here either: he was and remains a believing economist; he only changed the objects of his “orthodoxy.” When he believed in his pseudo-“scientific theory of progress,” he also believed in the economic teachings of Marxism, introducing into it, of course, all the inevitable misunderstandings of believing thinking. When he believed in “evilness,” he had to, accordingly, convert to another economic faith. His articles “On the Economic Ideal” and “Problems of Political Economy” are devoted to this latter.
The new orthodoxy of the venerable economist is:
“Political economy... arose and exists, supported by the practical importance that economic issues currently have in the life of cultural humanity. It was born as the fruit of the search for modern consciousness and conscience for truth in economic life. It is caused not by theoretical, but by ethical demands of modern humanity. Political economy, according to this preliminary definition, is applied ethics, namely, the ethics of economic life” 821.
From the point of view of the “intelligible” one could find major stretches here. For example, it is difficult to somehow believe that the doctrine of the “money balance”, the “balance of trade”, the doctrine of A. Smith 822 on the economic principle of egoism, opposed to the ethical principle of altruism, various vulgar apologetic theories, Senior’s “last hour” 823 ... etc., etc., were caused by “ethical” requests only. which stimulate and determine the will to knowledge; and political economy arose, accordingly, from social and practical needs, which from the point of view of “free will” and “cunning” there is no need to distinguish from “ethical” needs: in the light of the absolute, the whole life of people is an ethical exercise.
The “ethical economist” is obviously nothing more than a special variety of the “subjective sociologist.” Mr. Bulgakov himself fully admits this.
“Subjectivism is necessarily inherent in any creativity, creation from oneself or from one’s subjectivity, and since political economy is not only a science, but also technology, not only states what exists, but also postulates what should be, subjectivism cannot be eliminated from it... So, social science in general and political economy in particular cannot understand without crying and laughing; this is not only its right, but also its duty... And in this struggle against the claims of arrogant objectivism, I repeat this again, lies the truth of subjective sociology, no matter how poorly the latter has substantiated it philosophically” 824.
“Bad philosophical foundation” is, obviously, a formal recognition of the ideas of positivism by our old subjective sociologists. If they had thought of leaving the “boundaries of the intelligible” and “founding” their teaching on “cunning”, nothing more would have been required. True, Mr. Bulgakov also makes a reservation about the fact that “sociological subjectivism should be possibly scientific, controlled by means of scientific experience” 825. But “subjective sociologists”, of course, will not object to such a reservation; on the contrary, they should really like the calm and confident repetition of their favorite flat contradiction “scientific subjectivism”, a repetition that is especially valuable after their opponents have found out and proven that “objectivism” and “scientificness” in knowledge are one and the same.
And yet we allow ourselves to doubt so that our subjectivists will rejoice at their new ally. The path by which he came to this union does not cast a particularly flattering light on their own psychology: it emphasizes the mixture of elements of faith and theoretical thinking that forms the basis of their doctrine.
Theoretical economics with its abstract method is distinguished by such extreme objectivism that there is absolutely no possibility of turning it into ethics, and even applied ethics. Therefore, in order to maintain his point of view, Mr. Bulgakov had only one thing left: to completely do away with this science. So he did.
The venerable economist sketches theoretical economics as follows:
“She poses approximately the following question: how can one think in the abstract about the connection between certain facts (the phenomena of prices, profits, capital, rent), in addition to the empirical connection between them, established and explained in political economy? What logical bridge can be built based on these solid foundations? She does not find a task for herself directly in experience, but invents it, composes it, and thereby invents herself.
That theoretical economics does not actually have the goal of experimental knowledge, study and analysis of reality is clear from its content. After all its logical efforts and constructions, our empirical knowledge is not enriched at all, so for the understanding of economic reality, one who remains completely alien to speculation about value, etc., will lose nothing, as is well known from the history of economic science” 826.
The most striking thing here is the reference to the history of economic science. Refraining from any polemic with Mr. Bulgakov, which, as I have already pointed out, is essentially impossible, I cannot help but note for the reader how believing thinking, if necessary, distorts facts without hesitation or doubt.
It is the history of economic science that gives us an idea of the enormous significance for knowledge and life that theoretical economics had and has. It was the basis for solutions to questions about free trade and protectionism, questions about the importance of consumer and productive partnerships for the general standard of living of the working class, the modern question of whether trusts can or cannot eliminate general crises, etc. Mr. Bulgakov would propose solving all these questions on the basis of “empirical facts”, regardless of the general necessary or, as he puts it, “logical” relationship between capital and profit, wages and the value of means of consumption, between homogeneous and heterogeneous enterprises, etc. Let it be like this: d.
Bulgakov obviously does not like the solutions to all these questions that are obtained using theoretical economy; but for a person standing on the basis of investigative rather than believing thinking, this would never serve as a basis for asserting that such decisions are generally impossible, that theoretical economics, like pure scholasticism, poses non-existent questions and cannot serve to clarify and understand the facts of reality.
That idealized and schematized representation of the facts of experience, which characterizes the abstract method of theoretical economy, is a common feature of all sciences that establish general laws of phenomena. Anyone familiar with the natural sciences knows that every general scientific principle expresses some kind of ideal relationship, such as experience, even in its best form, never provides in its pure form. All these principles come from ideal, extremely simple conditions, and serve as an expression of the ultimate relationships between phenomena. No one has ever seen the interaction of only two bodies, or the movement of a body without any influence of the environment on it, and therefore the laws of motion established by Newton are only extreme abstractions. But they give us ways to analyze and understand specific phenomena. Such are the ultimate abstractions of theoretical economy, and such is their real meaning.
In Mr. Bulgakov's latest articles there are many brightly progressive phrases, which for most readers may seem to be sufficient compensation for the reactionary foundations of the worldview of the venerable professor. In order to more accurately assess the mutual relationship between these two sides of Mr. Bulgakov’s ideological activity, we will make several small comparisons.
Mr. Bulgakov derives the ideas of equality and freedom from the other world - this is their highest sanction for him: “People are unequal by nature, unequal by age, by gender, by talents, by education, by appearance, by conditions of upbringing, by success in life, by character, etc., etc. Consequently, we could not draw ideas of equality from experience; from experience we could rather get ancient or Nietzschean ideas. Equality of people not only is not a fact, but cannot even become one; it is only a norm of human relations, an ideal that directly denies empirical reality” 827.
Let's imagine the following case: Mr. Bulgakov unexpectedly came to the conclusion that the idea of equality (and likewise the idea of freedom) has an empirical origin. Then the otherworldly sanction of the idea will immediately disappear, and the idea will lose all meaning in the eyes of Mr. Bulgakov. Meanwhile, the idea of the empirical origin of the idea of equality is so simple and natural that even believing thinking cannot guarantee against it. It is enough to realize that a lot of troubles arise for people from actual inequality, and in their struggle against this inequality they generalize their negative attitude towards it in an idea that turns out to be precisely the idea of equality. After all, a person always strives for what he lacks, which, therefore, has not yet been given objectively in his experience - but the very desire arises from the contradictions and inconveniences of what is given in experience; and the generalized formula of this striving is only a generalized negation of these contradictions and inconveniences, i.e., it does not contain anything super-experiential. From the point of view of Mr.
Bulgakov should have accepted that a person cannot do anything new on the basis of experience, because the new is what has not yet been given in experience. If Mr. Bulgakov retreats before this conclusion, then he will only have to admit that the idea of equality is not super-experimental in origin; and then what value will she have in his eyes? In any case, he will stop believing in it - “empirical” is too base an object for faith.
“The ideal of equality,” says Mr. Bulgakov, “has meaning and significance, corresponds to the supreme idea of justice only as a requirement for possible equality of conditions for the development of the individual for the purpose of his free self-determination, moral autonomy. In other words, the entire practical content of the idea of equality comes down to the idea of individual freedom and the requirement of social conditions of development that are most favorable to this freedom” 828.
“Only specific goals are achievable in historical conditions, while the ideal of justice is abstract and, by its very meaning, can be combined with various concrete contents... Changing concrete conditions bring new data for solving this problem and for a new finding of this world-historical sought-after... Let us not forget that the ideal of equality and freedom is a negation of these conditions and therefore cannot be fully embodied in them” 829.
So, the ideal of equality is unattainable, although it expresses only “the requirement for possible equality of conditions for the development of the individual.” Why is it actually unattainable? Is it not possible to admit the possibility in the future of such social conditions under which inequality in the conditions of development of personality A and personality B can be made less than any given value, that is, lose all practical significance? After all, this inequality is not an infinite magnitude - like everything that is given in experience, it is limited and finite; and everything that is limited and finite lies fundamentally within the limits of developing human powers. – But for believing thinking it is necessary to make the ideal unattainable, otherwise there is nothing to believe in.
It is interesting to compare with this the scientific and philosophical understanding of the ideal. It, on the contrary, allows only achievable ideals, finding that it is impossible to actively strive for the unattainable - one can only dream about the unattainable, it is an idol, not an ideal. For believing thinking, achieving an ideal is “the end of history, immobility,” because such thinking is conservative, the creativity of new and new ideals is inaccessible to it, it receives them only from the outside. On the contrary, free thinking, combined with an active will, as soon as some ideals are achieved, moves creatively to others: it is not afraid of stopping.
The ideal of freedom appears to Mr. Bulgakov in a somewhat peculiar coloring:
“It is easy to distinguish between internal or free dependence and external or forced dependence. The first we have in the relationship of a student to a teacher, a reader to a writer, a son to a father, etc. Such dependence not only does not violate the spiritual freedom of the individual, but, in fact, it represents a field for its manifestation, for personal freedom is actually realized only in communication with other people” 830.
Of all the forms of “free” dependence, as we see, the one that is not mentioned is the one that fully deserves this name - the comradely form of mutual dependence. The student only “freely” depends on the teacher, the reader on the writer, etc., since one treats the other not as an authority, but as a comrade, since the student or reader considers himself fundamentally no lower than the teacher and the writer, and knows how to treat the latter quite consciously, critically, and on occasion can teach him something in turn. To Mr. Bulgakov, softened forms of authoritarian dependence seem to be real “spiritual freedom,” whereas from the point of view of modern thinking this is far from the case. In its most pronounced manifestations, this “free” authoritarian dependence turns into real spiritual slavery - into the blind worship of man by man, as a lower being to a higher one.
All this prevents us from having complete confidence in the vital reliability of Mr. Bulgakov’s progressive aspirations. The same words mean something different to an enlightened cleric than to representatives of truly progressive forms of thinking.
But this is not the most important thing. What is most important is the deep, hopeless contradiction between the ideals that Mr. Bulgakov speaks of, no matter how dubious and absurd his understanding of them is, and the basic idea on which he wants to build his worldview. If we imagine the whole of life as a whole, the entire world process, as a kind of “obedience”, if we see the ideal of life in the complete and unconditional subordination of each personal will to some other, but also personal will, then what else can we talk about these ideals of a diametrically opposite nature, about ideals that exclude personal submission? Sooner or later, they must be rejected.
At first glance, it may, of course, seem quite natural and probable that a person, fully satisfying his slavish instincts in one world - in the realm of the transcendental, will feel all the more free from them in another world - in the realm of experience. This would be conceivable if both worlds were absolutely separate. But that's not true. For believing thinking, they inextricably merge with each other, and one of them is only a manifestation of the other. The authoritarian understanding of the basic connection of the world order and the ideal of autonomous will for the empirical manifestations of this connection are vitally incompatible with each other. This is why enlightened clericalism cannot constitute a stable worldview system: it is always only a temporary, unstable balance of opposing life tendencies. Time will destroy it.
A.V. Lunacharsky. Metamorphosis of one thinker 831
I. How metaphysics was resurrected
The bourgeoisie, full of strength, emerged towards the end of the 18th century under the banner of positive science. Her spiritual motto was “enlightenment.” All the foundations of social life, all beliefs were subject to critical reassessment. Everything that wanted to live had to give an account to the inexorable reason, to prove to it the rationality of its existence. It seemed that the external and internal structure of humanity that had been established for centuries was ready to collapse immediately. The sun of reason rose, and the solid walls and powerful towers turned out to be fog and floated, wavering in the rays of the morning. But not only destructive work was done at that time by people of science - all of it was imbued with the most ardent conviction in the possibility of finding a universally binding truth, rational forms for everything human. The man was raised from his knees, and much that had previously seemed great to him turned out to be pitiful and ridiculous, but he did not remain standing among the ruins of defeated idols, he immediately, with some kind of greed, rushed to draw up plans for future work for centuries and centuries.
To do this, he, first of all, wanted unshakable blocks that could serve as a foundation. He looked for them in the immediate feeling of a rebellious, proud, self-confident man, radiant with youth, although he imagined that he was drawing them from reason. But the mind cannot provide a basis for ideals; it can only organize the material provided to it by direct feeling: this feeling required, first of all, freedom, complete freedom for thought and will. Freedom was naturally required for everyone - after all, it had to be wrested from the privileged, and for this to unite all the popular forces, wiped away by the ruling classes from the joys of life and everything with which human dignity is connected. – Hence the demand for equality. In the seething struggle, the joy of joining forces and comradely support is deeply felt; hence the ideal of brotherhood naturally arose.
The visible, tangible spiritual growth of a person, the kaleidoscope of rapidly changing pictures of social life inspired both faith in progress, and the demand for it, the feeling of development, growth of strength and knowledge became the fundamental feeling of this seemingly newborn man - a rationalist. Scientific positivism, contempt for various otherworldly excursions, faith in life and knowledge in no way contradict fiery idealism in Diderot and Helvetius, in Condorcet and Saint-Simon. So promising new ones took the place of the old deities: Humanity and its leader – Reason.
The bourgeoisie dispersed the fog of the Middle Ages, all the chimeras disappeared into the cracks and gnashed their teeth there, swallowing poisonous tears.
But the heroic era of the bourgeoisie has passed. She achieved an advantageous position in society. The dark mass of the dispossessed pressed from behind and forced her to go forward, but she, recently still a leader and standard-bearer, suddenly turned her face to those with whose strength she had broken her opponents, and shouted: “Stop,” and this cry was heard by the roar of cannons and the clang of weapons. The recent allies have split into several camps. The bourgeoisie retained the scientific spirit, the practical genius, the absence of prejudices, while the rest were left to live by the ideal that once illuminated and warmed everything, an idealism that has now turned into powerless dreams. Sometimes, under favorable circumstances, dreamers rose up against practitioners, but in vain.
On their side was everything that could inspire young hearts: golden distances, faith in humanity, but all these were just beautiful, holy words, beautiful holy music of feelings, nothing more; even in connection with despair and hatred of bourgeois power, all this could only cause temporary convulsions in the social body, which had developed as the economically omnipotent class wanted.
But the practical bourgeoisie continued to march under the banner of positivism. She still laughed at prejudices. Although, of course, the legacy of the past, no matter how pitiful it was in the light of reason, could, in their opinion, even be useful for women, commoners, etc. The gray-haired chimeras became less hated than the young chimeras born with the bourgeoisie. These were full of beauty; it was a little embarrassing to deny any acquaintance with them, but meanwhile they were dangerous, it was impossible to prance on the revolutionary hippogriff 833 - the horse could lead the rider not where he wanted...
The bourgeoisie tried with all its might to deprive the loud slogans of their fathers' battles for freedom of their content, but to leave their golden hype, turn them into jingling bells and rattle them like a rattle before the infant people. But the bourgeoisie was faithful to science, criticism went its own way, finding new forces in the very historical sense that the defenders of antiquity opposed it. The study of nature yielded colossal results, especially dear to the bourgeoisie, practical results, the secrets of nature were explained, and one after another its forces bowed under the yoke of man. In the sense of enlightenment, the pale morning gave way to a rather bright day. At the same time, the bourgeoisie formed the principles of its moral worldview, which became more and more dry: the desire for profit, naked calculation as the source of all activity, as the root of every feeling - this is a sober view of life. The struggle for existence, as formulated by Malthus, as a sufficient explanation for visible social evil, a brazen “enrichissez vous” 834, as a response to the demand for equality, etc., etc.
Oh, the results of the nineteenth century, since the bourgeoisie was its master and leader, were brilliant! I will allow myself to acquaint the reader with the impressions that the sensitive and profound artist, the late sculptor Antokolsky 835 made from viewing the bourgeois 19th century at an impressive exhibition where the bourgeoisie proudly spread its peacock tail. Here are a few lines from his article published in the magazine “Art and the Art Industry” for 1901: “Such an exhibition has never happened, and is unlikely to happen: it was in its own way a sign of the times of the end of the century and decadence, that is, a desire to make the strongest possible impression, with little regard for human nerves.”
“It used to be that you would enter the machine gallery and it would take your breath away, as if I were in the midst of some kind of iron world: the iron lives, knocks, whistles, moves - what a monster this is! What a giant! What power! Iron replaces man, steam replaces his breath; iron works for thousands of people and a thousand times faster than they do; the iron rake either stretches or contracts, turning the object by its own force, passing it as if from hand to hand, until it is thrown away completely finished. Iron machines sow, reap, thresh, bake bread and feed crowds of thousands. Entire rows of reels move automatically, like soldiers on review, carding wool, spinning thread, weaving fabrics, ready to shoe and clothe legions of troops. It seemed how insignificant, weak, pitiful man was in comparison with these iron giants: if he had fallen into their rake, they would have trampled him, broken him, dried him into powder, blown him up like smoke, and yet it is here, over these giants, that man rules as over disciplined workers.
At his command, a giant hammer turns an iron ball into a thin sheet with one blow; at his own command, the same hammer breaks the shell of a small nut, so that the kernel remains untouched.
The hygiene department is just as excited. You see muddy water full of ciliates that your ancestors swallowed. You see an old hospital (with four patients in one bed), where the sick walked as if into a living coffin. You see ancient surgical instruments from which people died as if from torture. And next to this they show you what progress has been made. The same muddy water turns before your eyes into the clearest, like crystal; hospital cleanliness and convenience evoke in you a kind of reverence, full of gratitude; surgical instruments no longer scare you. You go to other departments, and your delight does not weaken - on the contrary, your curiosity, your inquisitiveness intensifies more and more, especially in the education department. How much has been done to awaken people’s knowledge and consciousness, how many schools are now all over the globe! How they multiply, how many millions of children are taught, and how they learn, what easy teaching methods! You don't doubt for a minute that all these children are probably extremely cute.
You believe that they will all turn out to be decent people, healthy in spirit and body and useful to each other. How could it be otherwise with our consciousness, with our perfection, and most importantly with such enormous means, when the entire sky can be covered with paper, feathers can be turned into wings for people, and letters can obscure the sun and bring darkness.
But enough, it’s impossible to describe everything, especially quickly. You must first be a specialist in everything, study everything, analyze it, then write volumes and volumes, and then only the picture of the exhibition and the delight from it will be complete.
Moving from education to hygiene, from hygiene to the Red Cross 836, I found myself in the military department, and a shiver ran through my whole body, I was dumbfounded... what a huge department! Steel barrels of cannons and rifles, sharp blades, small and large, looked at me from everywhere with a cold shine, like elongated snakes, ready to spray me with poison... What kind of monsters are these? Who created them - is it really God? For whom? And for what? They all hissed the same thing: “Death, death”! Stronger defense, stronger destruction - and the same death. Here she is. Look at the human bone with bullets embedded in it, on display right there. Look at the photograph taken from the battlefield, strewn with dead and wounded, bleeding under the searing sky. And why is there such hostility among people? and who are at enmity with each other? - Are they really the same pets, raised with such care and such hope? Are they really the same brothers engineers, mechanics, whom you admired in the machine gallery, who created such amazing things for progress, to make people’s lives easier?
Have they really created such infernal machines to destroy each other? On the same day I was in heaven and hell, I rejoiced at human rebirth and mourned his death, I sang a hymn to him - a hallelujah and a funeral march... Why do I need your perfections, your progress - you have reached the point that you burst into the bowels of the earth, rise above the eagle, you have achieved its flight, your voice, your movements are imprinted forever, your words fly around the whole world faster than lightning, steam and electricity carry you from West to East, from North to South, you are rulers over all this and are strong in your power, but still you are insignificant, because you are not able to tame people’s anger, make them love and pity each other.
In the open air it is no better: noise and din, everywhere they play and drink, drink and play, they clap bravo, and the tambourine, most importantly, the tambourine is furious, ordinary people in extraordinary costumes stand on the stage and shout in hoarse voices, inviting them to see a curiosity - the first beauties of the world, shouting from different sides; here the Javanese dance, there the Indians, there the Spaniards, and there the Turkish women, bacchanalian dances, they dance until they are tired, until they are exhausted, they douse themselves with cold water and dance again. Where it’s worse, there are more people; mothers and children crowd to see the belly dance, which makes old people blush.
Being among taverns, kiosks, panoramas, theaters and various Palais 837, among charlatans in jester costumes, or even just in top hats, like true gentlemen who praise the girl in tights standing right there, you feel something completely different from what you feel in the machine gallery, hygiene or educational department; you feel completely different than even in the military department, where an intelligent person turns into a predatory beast. And what feverish greed is characteristic of all the exploiters of the world in order to lure as many sheep as possible and shorn them.”
And even art did not satisfy Antokolsky: he was “painful, ashamed” for the artists and even for himself, so soulless was everything put up for sale by the artists at the huge Parisian bazaar.
But the hammer hits the anvil and receives a blow from it equal to its own blow.
I said that idealism in the form of dreams remained with the erased people and their leaders. This idealism was nevertheless strictly positive in nature. Saint-Simon, Owen, Fourier 838 and a hundred lesser figures followed in the footsteps of the great leaders of the Revolution. Strange! Now positivists are reproached for the fact that they always only stated facts, but were alien to the criticism of reality and the creation of positive ideals. This is such nonsense that you involuntarily ask what its source is: – ignorance? party blindness? thoughtlessness? No, anti-bourgeois positivists, one might say, fiercely criticized reality and painted such pictures of the future, such lofty and bright ideals, before which all the phantasmagoria of idealist metaphysicians dims.
But ideals remain ideals when attempts to implement them encounter invincible resistance from reality. Right is a powerless empty concept. Only then does it come to life when there is strength on which it can rely. Such a force was, of course, the people who suffered most and most directly from the “culture” created by the bourgeoisie. From a series of unsuccessful attempts, however, it became clear that his forces, thanks to a thousand circumstances, were insufficient to recreate society. It was necessary to ask the question directly and scientifically: are these forces growing? Can we hope that the ideal of all-human cooperation, the ideal of freedom, equality and fraternity in the fullness of these concepts will really become the ideal of the masses? and will these masses ever be sufficiently organized and powerful enough to carry this ideal into reality? This was an objective question. In its formulation and decision there should not have been a single “scrupulous ethics”, as if the matter was about astronomy. This question was resolved by Lassalle 839, Marx and Engels.
The spirit of “Marxism” was sharply anti-utopian and sharply anti-ethical. This gave his later critics a reason to reproach him for being one-sided. Such criticism is based on a superficial attitude towards Marxism as a form of practical positivism. Marxists were and are anti-utopians in the sense that they consider painted pictures of a possible future to be a weak weapon in the struggle for the right to live a life worthy of a human being. You can fantasize a lot, but the beauty of fantasies does not and will never encourage the ruling classes to cede even an inch of land in the arena of class struggle. The utopias of the great positivist dreamers were not rejected, not recognized as meaningless in themselves, they became the property of poetry, and the interests of the struggle and critical implementation of the natural goals of a person deprived of rights required the solution of a different problem: what is society? what are the internal springs of its development?
A brilliant analysis of society as a form of cooperation, as an organization for the struggle for existence and domination over nature, was the answer; this organization turned out to be extremely imperfect in the sense of any positive criterion: it did not give maximum strength to humanity, was not economical and prudent in its expenditure, it was dominated by a distribution of goods that was unfavorable for the vast majority of people, etc., but the task of criticizing the social system was brilliantly performed by the utopians. Now the root cause of all these imperfections was understood: the class character of society that fatally emerged in the process of the growth of civilization. All history has found its brilliant key to explanation in the class struggle. It was not denied that human desires and human ideals produce history, but the nature of these desires and ideals was explained from external conditions: the characteristics of class position and historical environment dictated what a person believed in, wanted, and hated.
Completely objectively, like inhabitants of another planet, they had to study the scientific relationships of the classes that make up modern society and make a feasible forecast of the future. Their personal wishes dared not have a voice in this purely scientific operation. Moreover, the cynicism of the bourgeoisie was opposed by the same naked cynicism. They were not afraid of this. Bismarck 840 and Lassalle almost simultaneously pointed out that in modern society the decisive voice belongs to the strongest. The new leaders of the fourth estate agreed with all those positions of the bourgeoisie that it expressed at the height of its arrogance: yes, force will decide the matter! But the force that will overthrow the idol of the golden calf is growing, growing calmly, busily, believing in itself, growing fatally, as an involuntary and necessary creation of the bourgeoisie, and the bourgeois Kronos will not devour the Zeus generated by him, who is preparing to throw him off Olympus! 841
It was absurd to talk about morality; it was necessary to talk about the forces of objective reality. It was too obvious that the proclamation of ethical truths could not shake the views of the ruling classes, that they could always order the necessary ideology for themselves and strengthen themselves in it against any immaterial weapon. Therefore, Marx's position was anti-ethical. “Do you think that we will lure you with vague pictures of the future?” – as if this mighty man was saying: “Scare you with words? No! We rely only on the strength of those people who, by their very position, cannot come to terms with reality and are forced to strive to destroy the very root of disorder - class relations in general.”
Does this mean that Marxists were supposed to lack an ideal? that they were not practical idealists? that they were not thoroughly imbued with a consciousness of the height of their goals and a readiness to actively fight for them? But even a blind man can see that this is nonsense! However, circumstances brought forward a number of individuals who decided to introduce “idealism” into Marxism, individuals who, while not being able to deny the presence of idealism in Marxist practice, found it illegitimate and metaphysical (?). They could not understand that science does not want and cannot listen to the voice of feeling, since it is science, but that it itself is only an instrument of feeling and that the basis of life is always a certain system of desires and goals.
Marx pointed to the working class as one to which the primordial ideals of democracy must be instilled in the highest and purest form. Considered scientifically, from the outside, these are only classes that are zu schieben glauben und werden geschoben 842, that is, whose strength is directed by their very position in society and grows due to reasons of a spontaneous social nature. Viewed from within, these are millions of human minds thirsting for knowledge, human hearts thirsting for happiness, these are awakened people eager to spread their wings, the heirs of the greatest dreamers of the human race, strong enough to realize their joyful and cherished dreams.
A thinking person, while she cognizes and objectively weighs the forces on which various ideals rely, she also cognizes the reasons that throw this or that individual person into the arms of this or that ideology.
But a thinking person, especially one like Marx, is not only a cognizing person, but also a person who wants and acts: this is a completely different question, how he justifies his desires, how he brings them into a system.
The task of justifying one’s ideals, of proving their objective correctness, is a secondary task compared to the task of clarifying the achievability of the ideal and practical paths to it. A person desires far from being based on logical considerations. But nevertheless, the assertion that positivism did not provide anything to substantiate the ideals of freedom and development is completely false; it is an even greater lie to assert that they can only be substantiated metaphysically.
If Marx did not set out to find a scientific criterion to prove the absolute superiority of the ideal of free all-human cooperation over any other social ideal, it was because he knew how easily this ideal would be accepted by his natural adherents and how impossible it was to drive it into the heads of his natural opponents. Naturally, Marx did not think about the group of intelligentsia, which to some extent stands at a crossroads, being carried away by a much more important task.
In addition, he rightly believed that most of the work necessary in this regard had already been done by the great utopians, whose demands practically do not differ from the demands of the greatest idealists, but are based not on the vague premises of metaphysics, but on facts of an anthropological nature 843 - on the thirst for development, freedom, power and harmony inherent in man and awakening in him under favorable circumstances, on his emotional nature, the origin of which is explained to us by biology and evolutionary psychology, as well as on the basis sciences such as hygiene and technology. We will return to this when we briefly clarify the origin of the ex-Marxist or trans-Marxist idealism of Messrs. Bulgakov, etc. But now we need to find out the reasons due to which metaphysics was resurrected in the West.
There are two reasons. One is closely related to all of the above, the other stands somewhat apart.
Feeling their strength, the bourgeoisie greatly valued the “sobriety” and “practicality” of their views on life, and identified them with “scientificness”. “No illusions!” such was the motto of typically bourgeois ideologists; the basic foundations of society - industry and trade; Society doesn’t care about ethics; smart people are guided by commercial, scientific and commercial considerations. Ethics can be huddled in corners in the form of public and private charity and within family relationships. Commerce has one ethics - reasonable calculation, prohibiting trickery, commercial honesty, which does not at all prohibit the most inhumane exploitation.
But those of the bourgeois ideologists who were less self-confident or more insightful felt that this naked economic point of view could not serve as a strong enough fortress for the capitalists. They had already outlined and developed the “harmonic” point of view, that is, a hypocritical, sugar-coated political economy.
But while the ideologists of the working class and petty bourgeoisie, painfully pinched by the chariot of the Juggernaut 844 - capital, smashed it with ethical lamentations, the true, purebred and courageous bourgeoisie only waved it off: “Illusions, nonsense! - they said, shrugging their shoulders. “These are essentially kind-hearted people, all these dreamers, but, of course, you can’t give them free rein... They are completely unfamiliar with life... Children!”
But times have changed. The new classes began to grow into an undoubtedly threatening force, and there was no end in sight to their growth. Their ideology is also strong. The ethical point of view was left aside, and the ideologists of the new classes came out fully armed with “inhuman” science. They analyzed the essence of capitalism, its origins, its internal contradictions, and gave a sharp forecast regarding its future fate. There was not a shadow of good-heartedness in their labors and appeals. They willingly followed the bourgeoisie in its assertions that the questions of life are decided by real interests - by real forces, and not by lofty principles. Moreover, they proved that the most sublime principles grow out of real interests and serve as the banner of real forces.
The ideal of all-human cooperation was presented as the natural banner of the world proletariat, but the calculation was made not on the beauty of this banner, not on the mysterious powers of this ark of a tribe thirsting for the promised land, but on the real and growing strength of that army, the ranks of which were replenished by the very logic of industry and trade. Capitalism turned out to be a transitional stage, and for each individual, thirsting for something new and better, a real field of action opened up: to push the falling and help the future to emerge.
It was then that the bourgeoisie and its ideologists increasingly began to grasp the weapon of ethics. “What an outrageous doctrine!” - they said: “What a lack of nobility, what rudeness and prose! what a glorification of force, brute force and narrow class egoism. These people have no respect for family, no spark of patriotism, no religion.” The bourgeoisie willingly shook off its revolutionary nihilism and showed outward and hypocritical respect for the state, the Church and the family. Purely intelligent circles could not help but respond to this.
The armchair intelligentsia, deprived of any real power, cannot help but believe in the exceptional significance of the pure idea: firstly, its weapons are among the so-called spiritual ones, secondly, the benefits to which it strives boil down to freedom of thought and strengthening the role of the intelligentsia in society; she has difficulty imagining democracy as completely complete, she eternally strives for an aristocracy of mind and talent, elevating the temporary and shameful division into enlightened classes and the “unenlightened rabble” into a natural law; that is why she is not averse to giving a hand to the bourgeoisie and being satisfied with half-measures and reforms, of course, “piously believing in ideals,” but considering them rather mental polar stars, norms of thinking and feeling, than the last link of a practical program. Moreover, the intelligentsia has studied the history of mankind so well! she is so confident in the enormous role of ideas: even the most insightful and objective intellectual thinkers can only with reservations recognize the limitations and secondary historical role of the school, the office, the book, the stage.
Even the most advanced and progressively minded intellectuals cannot help but exaggerate the creative role of a critically thinking person. Therefore, the people of the cabinet and department willingly supported the bourgeoisie; not only bribed scribblers, but the most sincere thinkers insisted on the narrow understanding of history, which quickly and naturally became the foundation of the ideology of the new classes. If the bourgeoisie only tried to restore the thrones and altars that swayed under its blows and fight the ideology of the masses with the help of official science, it would be a disaster. But as the forces of industrial democracy grew, the most insightful of the leaders of bourgeois thought compromised with the growing enemy: they recognized the criticism of the capitalist system to a large extent as correct, they recognized the right of the working masses to organized self-defense, they even recognized the rationality of the ideal of general cooperation, they almost met the new classes halfway with open arms; They only demanded one thing from them - even greater practicality!
“Understand,” they said and say: “There is no need for us to quarrel! We ourselves despise backward factory owners and traders, but in the interests of capital itself to meet you halfway, the capitalist system is forced to correct itself little by little, there are many holes in it, but it will continue to apply patches from the red cloth of the new system, and as soon as you help us sew up the holes of the old cloak, one fine day you will see it completely red.”
By God, this is an amazingly captivating idyll! “little by little, little by little, little by little,” as Judushka Golovlev used to say, 845 patch by patch, look, en Zukunfstaat, here he is! And a thousand scientific arguments convince us of the correctness of this view: nature does not make leaps; social Zusammenbruch 846 is impossible, only superficial political revolutions are possible, economically society can only evolve! etc.
Immediately, the so-called “academics,” that is, intelligent defectors to the camp of extreme democracy, responded to the call of the progressive Ulysses 847 of the bourgeoisie. The voices of the left choir of capital touchingly merged with the chants of the right choir of labor, an interesting bastard is beginning to mature - democratic concentration: the capitalist and the worker hand in hand will go towards the rising sun, the capitalist will selflessly decide to melt and diminish in its rays, the worker will grow stronger and grow until they become exactly twins and embrace like brothers.
In the meantime, the worker needs to recognize the common interests of labor and capital, be able to be content with little, keep pace with nature, that is, not make leaps at all, give money and people to the army and navy, defending the “common interests” and conquering colonies and markets for the sale of “common products”, not to believe those one-sided politicians who shout about class discord, but to concentrate their forces in the field of mutual assistance, factory legislation and everything such. In a word, there is no need to chase cranes in the sky, but to pick up a modest tit, the crane itself will go to the great-great-grandchildren... This is not the place to enter into criticism of the neoharmonic theory of social development. All that matters to us is that it opened the door wide to metaphysical ethics.
Previously, the ideal was a natural object of ardent desire of a humiliated and insulted person, the fruit of his grief and reflection, a child of need and thirst for life and development, characteristic of every living being, especially the proletarian, surrounded by the luxury of big cities, aware of the power of that industrial Leviathan 848, the cell of which he is - now it is an eternal idea, universally binding and universal, it is the goal of history itself and even the entire universe. What a win, isn't it?! This is no longer a class ideal, but an objective, superhuman and, at the same time, universal human ideal. That's what's important. All people, and not only proletarians, some consciously, some unconsciously, go towards this ideal and work for it with the complicity of a higher power, invisibly pointing with its finger the path to Canaan 849. In the chest of every person there sounds a voice of duty, tirelessly repeating: “The human personality is sacred,” and except for empirical personalities (i.e.
pig snouts surrounding our hero in a close and greedy crowd), there is also a meta-empirical, divine-human one that must be honored in every person. ABOUT! what a touching and sacred thing this life is! One must walk along the path of life with a sense of reverence, remembering that someone lives above the stars.
Why is all this needed? What is all this? Wasn’t the ideal of the working man, when he sought freedom of development, determined by his very position? Didn’t the working man take on its implementation with enthusiasm? Didn’t the words written on the walls of the hall where the last party tag 850 met: “Man muss begeistert sein um grosses zu vollenden” 851 always find a response in the hearts of fighters for the future? Would anyone dare to say that the notorious debt itself would induce at least a handful of empirical capitalist personalities to make more or less serious concessions in the field of specific interests? The fact is that this idealism, which is beginning to gain ground in the West, is a natural complement to the new, bastard type of movement.
The inspiration that reigned before was “illegitimate”, inspiration is “legal” only when it is excited by eternities and infinities, but then the idealist fooled himself, you see, with the prospect of the speedy triumph of his principles, and now the bourgeois left and the democratic right taught him the wisdom of gray opportunism, which the intelligent foretaste of the harmony of the future lived for a long time, now it has become necessary to share with smoky brother-blouse with all the wisdom that helped the idealistic intellectual to exist peacefully in a disgusting society. The time of intense struggle, that struggle that will give birth to enthusiasm in the chest, has passed, and in order not to become stupefied by boredom while mending the capitalist system with microscopic patches, one must tell oneself fairy tales about the wide river of time, crawling at a snail’s pace towards the sea of human apotheosis.
This is one series of phenomena that entailed heterogeneous sympathies for heterogeneous “metaphysicians.”
The same mill spun even faster when water rushed in from the other side.
The practical and sober line of thought, which triumphed along with the bourgeoisie, demanded realism from science, so natural science, of course, developed especially luxuriously: it gave both immediate practical results and was the farthest from “illusions.” But natural science developed somewhat one-sidedly during the 19th century: in some sciences, however, the most amazing syntheses were produced, such as the theory of the origin of species, or the theory of unity and conservation of energy; but the completely discredited natural philosophy was so completely suppressed that most scientists were horrified by excursions into alien areas of science to unify the entire scientific edifice, and were even more zealously devoted to the accumulation of individual facts. The empirical direction has dried up synthetic thought too much. By the end of the century, however, both the necessity and the possibility of scientific philosophy, in the sense of a common dome crowning individual disciplines, had finally become clear for science. G.
Spencer has long formulated the tasks of synthetic philosophy; he argued that individual sciences, based on particular facts, provide, each in its own field, the most general formulas for the laws of individual areas of reality, but these most sublime generalizations, which are only accessible to specialists, should themselves serve as columns for a synthesizing body, the construction of which is the duty of a scientific philosopher, possessing erudition in all areas and special philosophical erudition. The grandiose building, built by Spencer himself, had in its foundation agnosticism as a principle of the theory of knowledge, the eternity of matter and force as an ontological principle and the law of evolution in the form of integration and differentiation of matter during the dissipation of energy and involution, that is, the reverse process, as a cosmological principle, carried out by the recently deceased giant philosopher through all areas of science. German philosophy, represented by Avenarius 852 and then Wundt, came to a formulation of the tasks of synthetic scientific philosophy, very similar to Spencer’s.
The Germans, however, could in no way be satisfied with the system of the great English thinker, which was completely mature by that time. The science of knowledge, as a necessary introduction to the system of science and to each science in particular, had to be developed with special care. But the very question of knowledge could only be resolved on the basis of some data, and, no matter how hard they tried to resist this, it could not help but become part of psychology; However, psychology itself is currently a science that is still far from complete, and precisely because the phenomena it studies are, so to speak, two-sided, i.e., as objective phenomena they are subject to the study of physiology, while as subjective phenomena they completely fall out of the chain of physicochemical phenomena studied by all other sciences. But since cognition itself is a mental act and at the same time the true basis of the physical and chemical sciences, epistemology was, as it were, the center of intersection of several series of problems.
From this point of view, Spencer's theory of knowledge was, one might say, non-existent. General scientific philosophy could appear only after victory over the most terrible difficulty standing in the way of monism: the dualism of the external and internal world. For a synthetic, strictly scientific natural philosophy, in the sense of cosmology, there is a lot of data, and, for example, Ostwald's book 853 “Natural Philosophy” clearly shows that the scientific world here only needs the appearance of a synthesizing mind, but we do not encounter difficulties of a purely philosophical, super-scientific nature here; but in the field of physiology of sensations, psychology and epistemology, the fact has become clear that the points of view of materialist physicists and spiritualist psychologists are equally narrow and insufficient; the physicist suddenly loses ground under his feet, entering the region of so-called internal phenomena and, falling helplessly, shouts: “Ignorabimus” 854, while the spiritualist tries in vain to somehow fit his methods into the completely independent region of external facts, so successfully studied with the help of materialistic premises.
In a word, the idea of the need for synthesis had barely matured when some confusion occurred in the scientific world; materialistic metaphysics, which was accepted silently and without criticism as a temporary basis for science, immediately turned out to be unsuitable, and it was then that the persecuted and downtrodden philosophers began to speak out with new importance - pur sang 855. Philosophy departments continued to exist in Germany, but no one recognized philosophy as being of great importance, the great philosophers disappeared, more or less talented historians of philosophy appeared and that’s all. But when confusion began in the ranks of scientists, and specialists in physiology and physics began talking about abstract questions, philosophers immediately came to life and offered many possible ways out of the difficulty. Kant’s apriorism played the first role in this, then came various kinds of spiritualistic metaphysicians, who promised to conscientiously include in their elastic embrace all the concrete content of the sciences; finally, defenders of dualism, pluralism, and even some kind of monopluralism (?) appeared.
Philosophers hastily and actively fussed over the gap that gaped in the body of science, over the dualism of the mental and physical, now sewing up the gap with white threads, now healing its edges so that they would heal and heal without connecting. Finally, cunning skeptics also came forward: they cast more darkness into questions of epistemology, further shook the supposedly wavered reliability of knowledge, and in the middle of the night, where all cats are gray, they tried to impose outdated ideas on science. Of course, among the philosophers there were progressively thinking people who immediately correctly outlined the real path to solving the problem, such was, for example, Rich. Avenarius, who went to meet the most philosophical minds among physicists and physiologists who independently found the same path (for example, Mach, Ostwald). But even among scientists there were people who gladly unbridled the “ghosts” within themselves, Ibsen’s “Ojengangers” 856, i.e.
the ideas and feelings of their forefathers; they were pressed to the bottom of the soul, chained by reason, and now they straightened their numb members and sang sepulchral songs more and more loudly; they dressed and preened, these cemetery guests, hid their bones behind the flowers of the artificial ecstasy of romance, behind the fabrics of intricately woven sophisms, and again threatened science with Platonism, that is, with the introduction into the matter of pure knowledge of the postulates of practical reason, mixing the categories of the true and the desirable, or, as the neo-idealists like to put it, the ought. But what is a threat to science serves as bait for profanum vulgus 857 - idealists appeal to the feelings, bribe by allowing everything desirable to be considered as existing, the most existing, flattering the poor heart of man...
We described above why in bourgeois hearts there was a tendency to rehabilitate religion and metaphysical ethics, why the armchair intelligentsia was inclined towards idealism, why academicians of the extreme left began to like it... Add to this the moribund epigones of the bourgeoisie, ready to grasp at anything, even philosophical pessimism and Nirvana 858 in order to avoid impenetrable hopeless boredom a satiated animal, and it will become clear that this confluence of circumstances erected a huge mummy of deceased metaphysics and caused some kind of convulsions in it, galvanizing its half-decomposed muscles. A sight that is disgusting to many, arouses enthusiasm in the hearts of others. But the most interesting thing is that the priests of the galvanized mummy, at least some, dared not only to undermine the foundations of positive knowledge, but even to declare it collapsed. If I'm not mistaken, such daredevils appeared only in Russia.
At least in the latest works of German and English idealists, although a struggle is being waged against positivism, its existence and strength are recognized; there the idealists defend only their right to exist nearby and invite people to their shop, but in our country they immediately came out with a bold, but not very conscientious identification of Kontism and positivism in general, and with an assertion that goes beyond the boundaries of simple courage that positivism has died, despite the growth of empirio-criticism in Germany, the school of Guyot, Foulier in France, the successes of Nietzsche, who never indulged metaphysics, despite the fact that in our country In Russia, out of the 5-6 most widespread magazines, only one, “World of God,” shows sympathy for metaphysicians, and even then only for moderate ones.
But if domestic idealists outdid their Western counterparts in “courage,” then in the sense of the art of juggling concepts they were far behind. There, in the person of Wundt, there is a metaphysician of a fairly high caliber, there are thinkers who unconsciously and therefore with the dexterity of sleepwalkers gymnastics with ideas, like Windelband, and recently, apparently, partly also Riehl 859 , there is such an amazingly nimble maestro of prestige 860 as the American James 861 .
In our country, we see only the chewing of Western idealism, we are treated to chewing gum, all the piquancy of which lies only in a certain dose of purely Russian swagger, and in some people’s noticeable desire for style russe 862 in the arrangement of the side dish.
To tell the truth, understanding these works is quite boring. But since they exist and, apparently, are successful, we have to object, willy-nilly. After all, gentlemen idealists “distort” our point of view, and in their performance the positivists come out as such hopeless idiots that, judging by such a portrait, some young man will not even want to get acquainted with the original.
And how I would like to finally put an end to the criticism of the idealistic “chewing gum” and take up those tasks that are put on the turn of positive philosophy, at least, for example, the revision of positive aesthetics as a science of assessment in general, the revision of practical philosophy that applies the data of a positive worldview and a positive worldview to practical life.
An intelligent, sensitive to beauty, active positivist awaits enormous tasks of a theoretical, popularization and socio-pedagogical nature, fun, wonderful tasks, prospects for learning and teaching in close union with the natural paladin 863 32 of a growing and ripening future.
We hope, along with others, to devote ourselves to these tasks, among other things, on the pages of Pravda.
But for now we are once again forced to clarify our position on the basis of criticism of the provisions of Mr. Bulgakov, set out by him in the book “From Marxism to Idealism.”
And first of all, in addition to the previous, let's talk about the origin of Russian “trans-Marxist” metaphysics. The guiding thread will be the preface to this book, in which the author himself sets out the history of his metamorphosis.
Mr. Bulgakov describes the emergence of Marxism in Russia as follows.
“After the languid suffocation of the 80s, Marxism was a source of vigor and active optimism, the battle cry of young Russia, as if its public ferment. He adopted and with persistent energy propagated a certain practical method of action, sanctified by the centuries-old experience of the West, and, at the same time, he revived the faith that had fallen in Russian society in the nearness of a national revival, pointing out the right path to this revival in the economic Europeanization of Russia...”
However, the author’s “intelligentsia” point of view also comes into play now. He cannot help but point out the “one-sidedness” of Marxism, that “the task of the present moment... is not to divide social groups... but to unite.”
For Mr. Bulgakov, Marxism is by no means a doctrine that substantiates the program of a certain class, which, behind the “tasks of the present moment,” does not at all consider it possible to lose consciousness of its class interests and the isolation of its ultimate tasks.
“Along with this effective optimism, Russian Marxism was completely alien to sugary illusions,” continues Mr. Bulgakov, “on the contrary, it put forward with all its energy the principle of socio-political realism, a sober and scientific understanding of Russian reality.”
Mr. Bulgakov correctly notes the important task of crushing the “economic Slavophilism” committed by Marxism, and proceeds to assess the struggle between Marxists and subjectivists.
We also need to highlight this point. If we abstract from the particular application that the subjectivists made of their principles in relation to Russian reality, then the gulf between the objectivists and the “Russian sociological school” will not be so impassable.
First of all, subjectivists were undoubted determinists and recognized a peculiar pattern in the development of societies. Their subjectivism boiled down to stating the enormous role that critical thought plays in the development of mankind. A critically developed personality was opposed to reality, although no one denied that she was flesh of flesh and bone of the bone of her environment; it was opposed to it precisely because, thanks to a number of circumstances, it freed itself from the oppression of traditions and gained the opportunity to look at society from the outside and evaluate it from a reasonable point of view.
What were the principles based on which these individuals and groups, as if escaping from the grip of the historical process, could criticize social reality and build a social ideal? Did they need metaphysical and similar “prerequisites” for this? – Just as little as a learned hygienist when he criticizes the sanitary conditions in which the majority of humanity vegetates and paints the ideal of a completely healthy living environment. A critically thinking person proceeded from human needs, from the “postulate” of healthy development of body and spirit; Seeing that the social system cripples people, gives rise to diseases of the body and soul, oppresses them with ignorance, poverty, hunger, slavery, humiliation, they protest against it and try to develop a plan for a social structure that would provide every individual with the opportunity for development. Feeling physically weak, critically thinking individuals naturally turn to the masses as those most interested in the renewal of society and at the same time as a real and powerful force.
If you look for a direct answer to the question “what to do?” (a question that already conceals the consciousness of the deep imperfection of life and the thirst for a life full of meaning and joy), then the answer will have to be formulated, at least for determined people, the way the subjectivists formulated it: 1) know the ills of modern society; 2) develop or adopt a plan for its reorganization; 3) look for powerful allies in this matter and 4) act.
But subjectivist practitioners suffered a terrible disappointment precisely because they missed an almost completely different, purely objective side of the issue.
In their minds, the masses of the people were some kind of test: at any time you can put yeast there, that is, these very “critically thinking individuals,” and fermentation will begin. And this seemed understandable by itself: after all, the people are unhappy, and the “thinking” people promise them freedom and happiness! However, the unfortunate and oppressed people did not respond to their call, and their forces themselves turned out to be completely insufficient to fulfill the task they had taken upon themselves. The practice of populism collapsed, and its theory became a relic.
For some time the "objectivist" must have been the most miserable man, or the mocking Mephistopheles.
Reality, to whose voices he listened, answered mutely “no” to all his “subjective” requests.
It seemed that the historical process neither in Europe nor in Russia had anything in common with “progress.” It was a terrible time. But gradually it became clear that history was moving towards the same goal (harmonization of the forces of mankind and the victory of reason over the elements), but only in a roundabout, absolutely necessary, however, way.
The job of Marx, and we, his “disciples,” was to clarify this circumstance; they gave an analysis of the internal forces of capitalism, moving it to its apogee and to the transition to the highest stage of development of social production. Subjectivists could fight objectivists in only two ways: either to prove that a direct “leap” from the pre-capitalist to the post-capitalist system is possible, or to point out that reality is a changeable thing that does not want to obey the human heart: today it seems to promise something, but tomorrow it will turn its back on you contemptuously.
The old-style subjectivists followed the first path. And they were defeated.
Trans-Marxist idealists entered the second. They also postulate the “power” of the subject over reality (after all, an intelligent unit cannot but crave it), but feeling that it is impossible to prove it on the basis of positivism, they transferred this power to the absolute, the rational king of the subjectivist principle in nature.
But those who are not cut off from reality, are not placed by fate outside it, but form an important part of it, do not at all need either the old naive subjectivism of the populists, or the new, that is, rather repaired, subjectivism of the magicians.
But what actually happened? What were the specific reasons why Marxism, and with it positivism, suddenly turned out to be insufficient in the eyes of, for example, Mr. Bulgakov?
This is “the totality of motives that imperiously forced Mr. Bulgakov to subject the fundamental foundations to a critical revision,” etc.
Mr. Bulgakov, and with him other “Marxist” intellectuals, tried to defend Marx’s doctrine, but... a comical incident occurred.
“Completely against my will and even contrary to it, it turned out that, trying to justify and establish my faith, I constantly undermined it and, after each such attempt, I felt not strengthened in my Marxism, but only even more shaken.”
This could be expected a priori. The defense of the doctrine of a certain class was taken up by occasional defectors who were momentarily carried away by the general upsurge.
“As a result of the polemic with Stammler (and with Struve about Stammler), it was necessary to admit beyond any dispute that the very ideal of Marxism is given not by science, but by “life”, and is, therefore, extra-scientific or unscientific. This conclusion for “scientific” socialism, which prides itself on the scientific nature of its ideal, seems, in essence, quite damning, although its full significance became clear to me only later.”
The reader now understands why Stammler seemed murderous to poor Mr. Bulgakov. He did not understand that phenomena are not given by science at all, but are developed by it, that therefore the ideal is something given, but science can only clarify its origin, its vitality and its progressiveness from the point of view of the growth of man’s power over nature and the maximum of life.
Further, “killer” for the frail Marxism of Mr. Bulgakov and others like him is Rickert, who “proved” the impossibility of scientific forecasting in sociology. Poor Mr. Bulgakov does not understand that Marxism does not present its forecast as something absolute, that making such forecasts is a biological and social necessity in the struggle, that this means “relying on a careful and unprejudiced study of reality.”
Science does not engage in prophecies, but predicts the future to the best of its ability, and Marx’s forecast, in our opinion, remains, by and large, unshakable. With the eloquence of tirades about the setting sun casting indirect rays on the impenetrable barrier of the future, Mr. Bulgakov fails to disguise his obscurantism. People will continue to make predictions using increasingly scientific methods, because the fire of Prometheus the seer 864 has been put into us. Without a forecast, any science loses its meaning, for it must illuminate the path for humanity; how well is a question that is answered in each given case only by facts. Marxists will by no means learn attentiveness and impartiality from the author of “capitalism and agriculture.”
I ignore the economic “fluctuations” of Mr. Bulgakov. We leave the economist Mr. Bulgakov as a victim of Marxist economists. I will only point out that both the question of value and the agrarian question are actively being developed by them. (See: Maslov. “Conditions for the development of agriculture in Russia” and his article “On the Agrarian Question” in the collection “Essays on a Realistic World Outlook.” See also A. Bogdanov’s article “Exchange and Technology,” ibid.)
The most important motive was the “crisis” of Marxism in the West.
Bernstein “attacked those utopian elements of Marxism that constituted his poetry and gave him the features of religious belief.” He destroyed Zusammenbruchstheorie 865. “Even her former supporters abandoned her,” Mr. Bulgakov says cheekily.
“Bernsteinism is Marxism that has cut its spiritual wings, devoid of its former religious inspiration and idealistic scope, reduced to preaching small matters of social policy. In many of its practical proposals, Bernsteinism (despite the excessive opportunism of some of its representatives) correctly formulates the demands of socio-political realism and in this sense represents a consistent and historically necessary development of Marxism in politics (we consider its position on the agrarian question to be especially valuable); but at the same time one cannot help but see that it kills the very soul of Marxism as a general worldview. Now the question is, what can replace the old worldview and fill the resulting void? Is it possible to find a way out of the “crisis of Marxism”? In any case, it is obvious that new efforts of ideological creativity, new searches are needed.
Unfortunately, neither Bernstein himself nor his party seem to yet experience this platonic need, the satisfaction of which promises nothing for practical politics. Everything looks as if nothing has changed, and the “crisis in Marxism” goes from acute to chronic.”
So, the whole trouble in the West, as far as one can understand Mr. Bulgakov, the mouthpiece of a part of the demagnetized Marxists, is that Bernstein took out the soul of Marxism - the theory of the general crisis of capitalism, and at the same time, neither his supporters nor opponents experience a “platonic need” for ideological creativity, the itch of which haunts Mr. Bulgakov and other Russian critics.
In order to prove that these “phenomena” of Western life can really shake Russian Marxists, it is necessary 1) to prove that Zussamenbruchstheorie has really been refuted, 2) to prove that it constitutes the soul of Marxism; 3) to prove that with its fall a void was created in Marxism as a general worldview.
If none of these theses can be proven, then, obviously, these are all just imaginary reasons for “reconsideration”, imaginary motives, and that Mr. Bulgakov is simply misdiagnosing himself.
First of all, the proposition that henceforth capitalism will have to be covered with reform patches in a peaceful course remains unproven. The confidence in the impossibility of Zusammenbruch 866 is especially amazing to hear from the lips of the “social agnostic” Mr. Bulgakov. But we are agnostics as long as we need to, and at the same time we are very willing to make tendentious and unfounded statements.
It is no secret to anyone that facts like the resolution of the last German party meeting, or the expulsion of Millerand 867 from the French socialist party indicate that opponents of reformism are by no means giving up. And it would be too early! Bernstein asserted with complete confidence that the time for crises was over... and the crisis broke out as if in mockery of him.
Let's take a look at the situation of modern capitalism.
Mr. Bulgakov has one merit: together with Tugan-Baranovsky, he imposed on Marx, or tied to Marx, the worthless theory of markets, which he, however, without embarrassment, now calls “the most orthodox of his works,” and imagine, reader! considers its “idea” to be correct in a certain sense: we do not know in what “sense” Mr. Bulgakov considers it correct, in the everyday sense it is simply absurd.
Mr. Bulgakov argues that capitalism can develop its market indefinitely, selling an ever-increasing amount of its products in new instruments of production, in a new basis for its expansion.
Therefore, a capitalist country may not need external markets, and therefore, capitalism does not contain any internal contradiction in this sense. Mr. Finn, in the article “Industrial Capitalism in Russia over the Last Decade,” published in the collection “Essays on a Realistic World Outlook,” indicates to what extent Mr. Bulgakov’s sincere desire to impose this absurdity on Marx reached at that time: Mr. Bulgakov quoted from Volume III of Marx’s “Capital”: “As capitalism develops, due to the internal necessity inherent in this mode of production, due to its need for more and more expanded market, the expansion of his foreign trade was his own result."
This quote clearly speaks against the theory of Mr. Tugan-Baranovsky and Mr. Bulgakov, but Mr. Bulgakov makes “light changes” in it - he omits the word “internal”, and together with “more and more” he puts “more or less”.
Yes, Mr. Bulgakov ardently defended Marx. We have every reason to rejoice that he has finally finished defending him.
The theory of self-sufficient capitalism is nonsense! New instruments of production, into which the surplus production of the previous period is realized, can only have value if in the end there is a market for the new wave of consumer products they produce.
It's clear as day. No matter how much capitalism inflates itself, having acquired gigantic growth, it must ultimately throw a gigantic amount of goods for consumption onto the market. Hence the pursuit of consumers, the search for them all over the globe. Growing spontaneously, capitalism subjugates everything, absorbs everything into itself and produces, and produces, but the market, although it also grows, is not limitless, and capital is not able to create for itself an unlimited number of consumers, a number that would eternally grow in proportion to the fabulous growth of production. The globe may contain a whole numerous tribe of demigods, and there will be no time to serve as a pedestal for such a tribe, but for capitalists it will soon turn out to be cramped. Can't you hear the alarming beating of Birmingham's iron heart? England is gradually being squeezed out of the markets and forgetting its traditions; it realizes that a life-and-death struggle awaits. It embraces protectionism and imperialism. The transatlantic colossus threatens and is rapidly approaching.
Soon the cheap goods of capitalism, threatening everything beautiful on earth, will fill all the ocean markets and sea markets, will clog the lake markets, and the pond markets, and the puddle markets, and capitalism will begin to choke. The average capitalists will, under the guise of cartels and trusts, surrender themselves to the high hand of industrial kings; the syndicates of capital will quickly take control of the middle classes, gradually making them completely dependent on themselves; Unheard of collapses will begin, insane juggling of billions, frenzied advertising, crushing gigantomachy of capitalist communities into which capital will merge before exhaustion and in cramped conditions. And among the crash of collapsing enterprises, among the horrors of all kinds of disasters generated by increasingly frequent crises, among the thunder and lightning of the infernal machine of militarism finally put into action, among the fury of an international brawl... before the astonished eyes of Mr. Bernsteinians, the majestic Götzendämmerung 868 will begin.
There is nothing utopian in the “eschatology” we have outlined. It has at least the same right to scientific self-defense, the same value as the hypothesis of an imperturbable and harmoniously murmuring flow of events.
But let us assume that this eschatology and every other theory of the crisis will be refuted. Does it really constitute the “soul” of Marxism? Will this make his building shake? Is there a void?
First of all, if by “soul” we mean the enthusiasm that warms the adherent of the doctrine, then the enthusiasm of one person arises from certain conditions, and that of another – from others. In order for some animated, intelligent samovar to hiss and boil with enthusiasm, you need strong phrases, pictures of barricades for tomorrow, a promise patented by science that on such a date fried hazel grouse will begin to fly into your mouth, etc., you need someone to push “a coal blazing with fire” into its empty chest.
Therefore, he (the said samovar) can boil minimum having within himself an unquestionable faith in Zusammenbruch. But other classes are seriously and busily carrying out their historical mission.
Let us assume that they will join Mr. Bulgakov in the fact that “the problem of socialism, with all its ethical clarity and even simplicity, does not fit into the framework of a complete and definite economic doctrine, but requires tireless and diverse socio-political creativity, based on a careful and unbiased study of reality.”
Let's say. Should enthusiasm die down as a result? Isn’t the enthusiasm of even the semi-bourgeois Sombart understandable, for example, when he depicts progress from this narrowed point of view? Step by step, from victory to victory, always creating new methods of struggle, but steadily having a “clear goal” to move forward - this is not a bad prospect, and if you do not understand by enthusiasm hysterical delight and noisy ecstasy, to which, for example, German industrial democracy was never inclined, then there is, really, enough room for the “soul” here. And what does idealism change in all this? After all, he won’t give Zusammenbruch either? After all, he calls for the same thing!
“Yes,” say supporters of Mr. Bulgakov: “but he gives completeness to a worldview that has now become shaky!” To tell the truth, we are absolutely perplexed how a “Platonic need” can arise as a result of the collapse of Zusammenbruch’s theory?
What is the Marxist worldview? In their general worldview, Marxists adhere to scientific positivism, but specifically Marxist “dogmas” are:
1) the theory of dependence of all forms of social life on its content - the height of the productive forces of a given society and
2) as conclusions from this general position and analysis of history - the theory of class struggle as the form in which the history of cultural societies has taken place so far. These are the main tenets of Marxism as a general worldview. How does Zusammenbruchstheorie affect them? Or does Mr. Bulgakov refer to the general worldview as the application of these principles made by Marx to the analysis of modern society? But Zusammenbruch or gradual socialization - and the tendency towards the transition of the capitalist form to a higher one is not only not refuted by facts or arguments, but, on the contrary, is finding more and more defenders, even among the people of the department. Why should the worldview, according to which capitalism is a transitional stage from the domestic and artisanal form of production to social production, be considered dilapidated because the transition should be accomplished not through crisis, but through lysis, to put it medically?
“The ground was disappearing from under my feet,” writes Mr. Bulgakov.
No, there was never any ground under the feet of the pseudo-Marxist intellectuals, although they only gradually noticed this, they noticed because every Bawerk, every Stammler, every Rickert, every Bernstein threw them on their backs, that they were always “hesitating” - “approaching first Riehl, then Schuppe 870,” then Solovyov, and so on, we hope, endlessly.
Mr. Bulgakov never understood the relationship between science and the ideal in Marxism, and therefore did not understand the meaning of “forecast.” He could never take the point of view of a certain class, whose ideals are dictated by life, which needs science only as a lantern, illuminating the darkness as much as possible, which does not need proof that it is by God's command that it wants what it wants, nor the crystal transparency of the future in order not to fall into cowardice. Mr. Bulgakov’s thinking has always been teleological, there were no great historical motives behind him, the great leader is life, and a stranger, of course, will only go for a cause that is alien to him when you decorate it enough for him. Sober Marxism ceased to inspire Mr. Bulgakov and his associates, and in order to continue to simmer, so as not to completely cool down, he began to put new “coals blazing with fire” into his open chest, artificially warming himself up with words.
This is the essence of their “Platonic desires”: “Those people who set the task of their activity to serve social progress, strive for the implementation of good in history (no matter what specific forms this task takes)! Is this good only their subjective idea, a wish that they are powerless to realize in life and in history (for such a task immeasurably exceeds the individual strength of a person), or is it an objective and powerful principle? Is it only a creation of the human heart, in which lies and all untruths live, or is it the absolute beginning of being, by which we “live and move and exist”? That dual truth that Mr. Mikhailovsky speaks about so sincerely, truth-truth and truth-justice, is there also truth-power that conquers and overcomes everything? Is there Good, is there Truth? <...> This is the question of all questions, in the answer to which they are all resolved.
<...> If yes, then history, although it is created by people and requires our sacrifices and efforts, does not “lead anywhere” <...>, but represents a systematic development, progress in the true sense of the word.”
This is how Mr. Bulgakov expresses the essence of his requests.
But it is impossible to answer “yes” to all these questions, no matter how much you would like to. ABOUT! Mr. Bulgakov knows this, he writes: “Philosophical problems that make up the content of the so-called world or damned questions are given to us as an object of eternal quest, as a riddle that, although it does not allow a final solution, is constantly and persistently posed to our mind.” And so “although it does not allow permission,” but “everyone must decide”! Mr. Bulgakov, this is nonsense! How to solve something that cannot be solved? But Mr. Bulgakov needs to say “yes”, otherwise, as he himself admits, he is “scared”; otherwise it “gets cold.” Absolutes, the pursuit of them and their imaginary discoveries are all just stimulants, cures for social impotence, necessary for strangers. People in life prefer to solve issues that allow for solutions.
We think that our view of the reasons for the emergence of ex-Marxists - metaphysicians - is now quite clear to the reader.
Now all we can do is make a short analysis of that very article by Mr. Bulgakov, which, as he sadly states, did not attract the due attention of critics.
We hope that we can ignore the remaining articles with impunity after all of the above.
II. Mr. Bulgakov criticizes positivism
Mr. Bulgakov's Marxist articles, which begin his collection, do not deserve attention. There is nothing new about them. Only a peculiar imprint is noticeable: the young Gelerter, for whom “Comte was always more undoubted than Marx,” is trying to fit his Marxist worldview into the framework of Comte’s semi-scholasticism, tediously, boringly “gomos” over various issues, in a gray, supposedly predominantly philosophical language, expounding more or less general points of Marxism.
Revival permeates Bulgakov's presentation only starting with his first heretical article, the first symptom of the accomplished metamorphosis: “Ivan Karamazov as a philosophical type.”
At one time, we gave a brief rebuff to this eloquent manifesto of the Marxist Saul, who returned from Damascus 872. We will therefore not deal with this article 873.
We will begin to analyze the article by Mr. Bulgakov, which he himself puts forward as central, i.e., “The Main Problems of the Theory of Progress.” In our opinion, there is literally no living space in this article. None of Mr. Bulgakov's statements can withstand criticism. Whether we are right, let the reader judge.
We will follow on the heels of Mr. Bulgakov, we will not leave a single statement of Mr. Bulgakov unanswered, without a detailed answer, because we would like to consider our present article final. ABOUT! not in the sense that Mr. Bulgakov himself would recognize himself or feel defeated, or that his natural adherents would fall away from him, but in the sense of a final demarcation between us. And Mr. Bulgakov’s very first tirade will serve us to briefly clarify the very essence of positivism as a worldview and life-feeling.
"ABOUT. Comte established the so-called law of three states (loi des trois états), according to which humanity moves in its development from a theological understanding of the world to a metaphysical one, and from the metaphysical to a positive or scientific one. Comte's philosophy has now lost credit, but this supposed law still seems to be the basic philosophical belief of large sections of our society. Meanwhile, it represents a gross delusion, because neither the religious need of the spirit and the corresponding area of ideas and feelings, nor the metaphysical requests of our mind and the speculation that responds to them are in any way destroyed, they even lose nothing from the positive science that is magnificently developing alongside them. Both religion, metaphysical thinking, and positive knowledge meet the basic spiritual needs of man, and their development can only lead to their mutual clarification, and not to their destruction. These needs are universal for all people and at all times of their existence and constitute the spiritual principle in man as opposed to the animal.
Thus, only the ways of satisfying these needs, which develop in history, are changeable, but not the needs themselves.”
Let's see whether there really was no replacement of religion by metaphysics and metaphysics by science, and in what sense Mr. Bulgakov is right in pointing out the vitality of religious and metaphysical needs.
Initially, as almost every high school student knows, religion satisfied, along with other human needs, also his need for knowledge of the environment. The idea of gods, spirits, wills hidden behind things and phenomena was a feasible explanation for them and gave a person a certain method of influencing the outside world: a person could change its events, as he thought, with prayers, spells and sacrifices. Such a magical idea is still alive today among the ignorant masses and is sometimes supported by those who exploit this ignorance and need it. But even serious theologians have long abandoned the idea of the possibility of changing the fate of the world or a person with magical techniques, as well as the explanation of individual phenomena by the direct will of the deities. If Mr.
Bulgakov will insist on the legitimacy of the mythological worldview - this is his business, but that this worldview cannot withstand any comparison with the scientific study of nature and technical methods of influencing it is clear to everyone.
In its quest for knowledge of phenomena and laws, advanced humanity did not immediately switch to a purely empirical method; it was preceded by a period of speculative science, the remnant of which to this day is the fetishistic idea of the law of nature as a unique, legal, so to speak, command to which phenomena are subject 874 .
The law of three stages is absolutely indubitable, since it is applied to the history of positive science. It is unlikely that Mr. Bulgakov will dare to deny this.
But a person’s desire for knowledge can never be limited to a single understanding of individual phenomena: he strives to comprehend all that exists as a whole. Science cannot satisfy this tireless desire of man.
Is this really true? Strange - why would it seem? The world is nothing more than a world of experience; the super-experiential is simply not given to us: everything that is given to us is accessible to knowledge. And indeed, modern natural philosophy paints us a highly integral, harmonious and grandiose image of the world, before which all metaphysical systems certainly pale. There is no doubt that knowledge of the world is far from being completed and that every natural philosopher, when he gives a complete cosmographic picture, in many cases resorts to hypotheses. But these hypotheses are in agreement with the data of science, are formulated in terms of experience, without fundamentally going beyond its boundaries, and, moreover, do not present themselves as anything other than more or less probable hypotheses. What other than probable hypotheses can metaphysics provide? Are the hypotheses incredible? At present, it is impossible to find a single metaphysician who does not know that outside of the empirical data that each metaphysical system usually includes in its organism, they consist entirely of hypotheses.
The desire for a holistic understanding of the world is not a metaphysical need, but a scientific and philosophical need, and metaphysics has nothing to do when constructing a picture of the world, as Alois Riehl showed with complete conviction in his book “Metaphysics and Science”.
Mr. Bulgakov interprets: “The task of complete and complete knowledge in the world of experience is a generally unsolvable and incorrectly formulated task.”
Absolutely right. But perhaps it can be solved by super-experimental means? Didn’t we read, however, on page 19 of Mr. Bulgakov’s preface that “damned questions, by their very essence, are among the unsolvable”?
So, the “final solution”, the omega of knowledge, is generally a chimera both on the experienced and on the super-experienced path. Mr. Bulgakov himself claims that all metaphysical and religious “answers” are only “stages” on the way... to what? - to the unsolvable. But no matter how much you move towards solving the insoluble, you will not move forward.
As for positive science, it does not at all pose the task of final knowledge, but Mr. Bulgakov considers the inability of science to say its last word only through a misunderstanding, and, moreover, a malicious one, so to speak, as its weakness. Positive science, in any case, can provide what metaphysics alone can promise: a comprehensive worldview for a given generation, living in its details, but unshakable in its methodological foundations.
There has not been and cannot be an era that did not have its own worldview, and of all worldviews, it is the positive scientific one that explains the greatest number of facts, reduces being to the greatest unity and paints a picture that is both the most harmonious and the richest in color.
If there are gaps in the modern scientific worldview, they are filled with hypotheses that indicate the path of research. We do not know, for example, how life arose, but we will probably find out as we get closer to it, and for now there are excellent hypotheses.
What are the questions that are not at all resolved by science? Let Mr. Bulgakov himself list them for us.
1) What is our world as a whole?
2) What is its substance?
3) Does the world have any meaning and reasonable purpose?
4) Do our lives and our actions have any purpose?
5) What is the nature of good and evil?
We immediately learn from Mr. Bulgakov that “the competence of metaphysics is greater than that of positive science, because it poses more important questions and gives answers to them.”
Oh, it’s so easy to give an answer! But it’s important that the correctness of this answer can be proven somehow, at least somehow! Until we have found a provable answer, until then, talking about the answer, from a scientific point of view, is simply shameless. Mr. Bulgakov forgets that in response to these requests, metaphysics can only construct hypotheses, doomed to complete helplessness in the face of other hypotheses.
“Let it go! However, do you recognize the existence of a metaphysical need? Do you admit that, willy-nilly, these questions arise in the human mind? – the reader will ask.
Of Bulgakov’s five questions, only the first two relate to knowledge of the world, the remaining three relate to its assessment. However, confusing the problem of cognition with the problem of evaluation is extremely characteristic of uncritical thought.
We call the world the totality of our experience, and a complete answer to the question of what it is can only be given by a complete organization of experience.
When we ask: what is a? - this means that we ask to substitute for the concept a another concept that is more familiar to us. The world seems to every person to be something complex and therefore incomprehensible; Thus, the problem of world knowledge arises. At the same time, we either admit that it is quite possible to arrive at some concept that is quite familiar to us, that is, some b, the formulation of which in no way raises the question: what is b? - or we do not allow such a possibility, in which case, obviously, there cannot be solvable questions at all 875.
So, both the metaphysician and the positivist, since they admit the possibility of at least a temporary solution to any question, what is a? must admit that there are some b, c etc. etc., which represent something familiar, cognized. If metaphysicians say that the essence of the world is will, or, as they seem inclined to think with Vl. Solovyov, our respected author, “the love of God,” then they obviously believe that will or love is something understandable and that no one will ask them: “What is will? what is love? If they were asked, they would undoubtedly be forced to say (as they say) that this is accessible to man from direct experience.
Thus, what is known, what is given, is always and in all cases the elements of experience.
If Mr. Bulgakov or anyone else can object to this position, then let him do it, let him point out something else, more understandable than a simple element of experience, internal or external - it doesn’t matter.
Yes, it doesn't matter! My will or love is no clearer to me than the color red or the tone do. And I am just as unable to comprehend how the tone do can be “in reality” the vibration of a string or the atoms of my nerve and brain cells, as I am unable to comprehend that it is in fact will and love. Therefore, positivism leaves aside the absurd attempt to reduce qualitative diversity to real unity 876. We, of course, have every right to imagine the world as a mechanism, and all its qualitative manifestations as epiphenomena that are functionally dependent on it, and in this sense, the mechanical worldview, no doubt, has not yet lost the game to the growing energetic one, but using the words “essentially is” is absurd. The world is the world! Red is red!
When asked, what is the color red? - we will answer that this is “an idea that arises in the psyche of a person with normal vision as a result of the influence of ethereal waves of a certain length on his eye,” then this does not explain in the least what the color red is, but only names it in such a way that it can take its place in an organized picture of the world. In fact, our supposed explanation is much more complex than the color red, and nothing could be simpler than it. If a child asks you, “What is the color red?” – you show him a few red objects, and that’s the end of it. However, it seems to us that we only understood the color red when we placed it within the framework of, say, a mechanical worldview. This is because then it became an element of an understood, cognitively organized world. To the question “what is the world?” - the only answer can be given: an image of a picture of the world with the help of which it could be thought with the greatest clarity. Science strives for this.
The reader will find an excellent experience of giving a brief, but in all essentials complete picture of the world, according to the data of modern science, in the article by S. Suvorov “Fundamentals of the Philosophy of Life” 877.
But, of course, this is not what Mr. Bulgakov needs. He needs some word, like “will”, “love”; but these are children's trinkets. Such words do not even remotely resolve the question in all its concreteness, and with almost equal right one can say that the world is, in essence, scrambled eggs or a cruel romance.
Thus, we see that scientific philosophy poses and resolves the question of what the world is, solves it more and more fully, although it will probably never say its last word, since both the horizons of man and the organizing forces of his mind will constantly grow.
Mr. Bulgakov occupies himself with childish trinkets like the following: “Since in comparison with infinity all finite quantities lose their significance, no matter how different their absolute sizes may be, we can therefore say that at present science is no closer to the task (obviously, “to the solution of the problem,” Mr. B. - A.L. wanted to say) to provide holistic knowledge, as it was several centuries ago or will be several centuries later."
This pathetic sophism would still have some meaning if science were not given not only its end point, but also its starting point; but this point is given: this is a helpless primitive man, and can it really be said that in the matter of understanding the world we have not made a single step forward! Ah, these gentlemen of metaphysics! They slowly suck the blood out of the subject they are discussing, and then, turning it into a pale shadow, they mock both it and the readers. The progress of knowledge is not a “line”, it cannot be discussed mathematically, it is a struggle with all the sweets of victory, in this struggle what is important is not approaching the end point, but the process of conquering new areas by the mind, developing such a general methodological framework into which new facts easily fit, etc. Man’s power over nature is growing, as is the consciousness of order and patterns in the world; both mean the growth of knowledge, the cognitive adaptation of man to nature, the guarantee of the creative adaptation of nature to man.
Mr. Bulgakov’s second question is: “What is the substance of the world?” To this question, positive science answers that its worldview is not substantial, but actual, that it does not recognize the question of substance, and therefore reads this second question as completely identical with the first.
This, of course, will not confuse Mr. Bulgakov.
Admire the toothless tricks our paladin of metaphysics indulges in, enticing poor Mr. Volzhsky with his bad example:
“Indeed, if I raise the question about the existence of God, or about the essence of things (Ding an sich), or about free will and then answer these questions negatively, then I do not destroy metaphysics at all; on the contrary, I thereby recognize it, recognizing the legitimacy and necessity of raising these questions that do not fit into the framework of positive knowledge. The difference in answers to metaphysical questions divides representatives of different philosophical schools, but this does not destroy the general fact that all philosophers are metaphysicians by the very nature of human thought.”
“Atheists, the more ardently they prove the non-existence of God, the more clearly they discover what role this problem plays in their consciousness, and how much God is present in it, at least as an object of negation.”
But we will quickly come to an agreement with Mr. Bulgakov. We call metaphysicians those for whom the super-experienced world exists as an object of affirmation, and positivists – those for whom it exists as an object of negation. There seems to be quite a difference. And if Mr. Bulgakov still insists on the word “exists”, then let him.
Science, in the precise sense of the word, cannot pose the last two questions. To evaluate objects and phenomena, one must have an evaluation criterion independent of the criterion of truth; Science only asks, “What is it?” “What is the value of this?” - asks the feeling.
It does not at all follow from this that the questions posed by Mr. Bulgakov are not answered by positive philosophy.
Positive philosophy only clearly distinguishes both points of view and strictly warns against any confusion between them.
The desire to mix them at all costs is a truly metaphysical desire, and we will now approach it by considering what solution positive philosophy gives to questions of assessment.
Does existence have any meaning or rational purpose?
What does a person mean when he calls something meaningless or meaningful? To understand the meaning of some a means to find some b, which seems unconditionally meaningful to a person and which is the goal of a, so there is no need to ask: “What is the meaning of this b?”
It follows from this that we either must recognize the question of the meaning of the world or anything else as absolutely unsolvable, because we will stumble upon a new and new question about the meaning, or we must recognize the existence of something that is unconditionally meaningful and, therefore, can serve as the final meaningful purpose of phenomena.
Obviously, this goal should seem meaningful to the person, i.e., contain human meaning. But what seems meaningful to a person not insofar as the meaning of what is being evaluated lies in something else, like its goal, but because it is contained in it (in the object being evaluated)? To this, metaphysicians give the most varied answers, usually of a more or less good nature; Thus, the ultimate goal is declared, for example, to be morality. But one can certainly ask: “What, exactly, is the meaning of morality, or what is its goal?” To respond to this with a “refusal to answer” is simply to give oneself a testimonium paupertatis 878, because here there is not that feeling of confidence in the self-intelligibility, the meaningfulness of the subject, which, for example, we experience in the self-intelligibility of the color red or another simple quality. Millions of people have asked and are asking: “What is the meaning of morality? what is it for?”, and if Mr. Bulgakov refuses to answer, then he will be to blame for keeping silent and turning a blind eye to the requests of humanity.
Positivism approaches this issue from a completely different angle. Under what conditions does a person stop asking about the meaning of something? - And then, when it’s something for him, a person, it’s pleasant. This could be wine, love, knowledge and morality, but all questions will be exhausted by the word - pleasure, enjoyment, etc. Why do they drink wine? do they like women? will they know? strive for moral perfection? – In order to feel satisfaction.
Perhaps this is crude eudaimonism? I ask you earnestly, Messrs. metaphysicians dig under it. I'm not necessarily talking about gross pleasures, I'm talking about satisfaction. Doesn’t Mr. Bulgakov want to give man satisfaction with his metaphysics and religion? Doesn't he want to justify them, to prove their meaningfulness by referring to the existence of a metaphysical need? religious need?
So, the feeling of satisfaction is certainly meaningful. Not a single person in the world can ask himself “what is the meaning of satisfaction, pleasure,” since satisfaction is something as undoubtedly meaningful as a simple quality is something undoubtedly understandable.
I ask Mr. Bulgakov or his associates to show me some other criterion that stands above the feeling of satisfaction or even does not stand below it.
To the question: “What is the meaning of moral activity?” I give, in perfect agreement with the spirit of Comte, the answer: its meaning is in the satisfaction that it gives to a person.
But since Mr. Bulgakov loves childish sophisms, we will deal with one of them here. But what about the feeling of dissatisfaction? is it meaningless? is this an eternal quest? eternal discontent? Is this truly human in a person?
There are different people. Perhaps some of them find satisfaction in thinking themselves satisfied. But the active modern man does not like peace; he values above all else the feeling of development, Wille zur Macht 879. That is why it gives him the highest satisfaction to feel that all the blessings of the present cannot stop the growth of his demands and thirst for an ever-expanding life. That's it.
But what is this satisfaction that plays such a colossal role in assessing the world and its phenomena? It obviously presupposes the existence of needs.
A person feels dissatisfaction when he feels a need, whatever it may be, and is unable to satisfy it. Therefore, he can only find meaningful what satisfies his need in one way or another. To evaluate something means to consider it in relation to the needs of the subject. Any phenomenon can be valuable only for someone, and, moreover, someone with needs.
Thus, for a positivist, the question of the meaning or purpose of the world comes down to the question of the relationship of the world to human needs. No person can get out of his needs.
No absolutes are given to man in this regard. To find out the value of an object, the savage asks: “Do they eat this?” In his paradise, milk rivers flow in the jelly banks and fried hazel grouse fly straight into your mouth. The Greek asked: “Does this thing promote mental and physical harmony?” In his Elysium, wise and beautiful men enjoyed the enchanting, harmonious beauty of reconciled nature. Kant asked: “Does a given thing contribute to the freedom of man, in the sense of the independence of his will from all needs except the categorical imperative (obedience to which is a moral need)?” In his paradise... however, his paradise is so abstract that it is difficult to talk about it: but still in his paradise people live happily, realizing that they have earned this happiness by moral behavior.
Nietzsche asks whether the value he overestimates contributes to the increase of strength in the individual, and in his paradise people or supermen enjoy the consciousness of their victorious power and the pathos of distance from slaves with their Kantian morality. The Marxist asks whether what is being assessed contributes to the victory of man over external and social elements, to increased solidarity, the plannedness of human labor and its productivity; in his paradise, the tribe of man-gods, a radiant family, conquers the elements, ever expanding the circle of the kingdom of rationality, forcing the world to serve to satisfy the ever-growing needs of its king and conqueror - man.
But the basis of every assessment, every thing is always its ability to satisfy needs. And what is valued seems the more valuable, the more satisfaction the satisfaction of the need to which it meets is delivered, and the more it satisfies it.
This is the point of view from which positive aesthetics or “evaluative philosophy” approaches the question of the value of the world. What answer does she give to this question?
This answer can be primarily twofold. If life in the world satisfies a given person, then he naturally does not look for any other meaning in life. “Life is given to us for living!” or: “Oh, how beautiful God’s world is!” - that's what he will tell us with a clear smile.
But such darlings of fate, pure optimists, are very, very few. Direct feeling does not tell most people that the world is beautiful. There is undoubtedly good and evil in it, for in it there is both pleasure and suffering, joy and sorrow, satisfaction and dissatisfaction.
Absolutely none of the philosophers deny the elements of evil in the world. Obviously, the question of assessing the world becomes more complicated the more of both elements you identify in the world. But even from the darkest pessimism there is a way out: the confidence that the world is getting better.
No lawyers who voluntarily undertake the task of theodicy can convince us that the world is good, but they can convince us that it is improving. This is what they usually attack.
The most common, if not universal, assessment of the world among representatives of positivism is this: the world as an object for contemplation is rather bad than good, and this is explained by the fact that a person in it is only one of the elements adapting to it, and the whole is by no means designed to satisfy precisely his needs; but everything makes us think that as an object for activity the world is good, because through knowledge and creativity we can adapt to it and adapt it to ourselves.
Therefore, in place of the question about the value of the world, which is a rather idle question, the positivist poses the question of how the value of the world can be raised.
It seems to me that after what has been said, it is not important to dwell on the question of the value of human activity and about good and evil.
We see in this way that positivism satisfies all the needs and demands of a person, but, reader, not every person.
An active, brave, courageous person is not afraid of the fact that the success of his enterprise is not guaranteed in any way. He believes in his strength, he fights, and if the elements defeat him, he dies heroically, drawing consolation in the knowledge that he remained true to himself, did not humiliate himself with lies, flight from the truth, etc. But for a cowardly person, a sure guarantee is necessary, without it “his soul is filled with chilling horror.”
Is the increase in the value of peace guaranteed? Or, in other words, “is there an absolute good as an active principle”? since, according to Mr. Bulgakov, these questions are unambiguous. They crave a positive answer.
And imagine, they openly admit to us that it is precisely this thirst that serves as a sufficient, although the only, basis for answering the “question of questions” in the affirmative!
In the eyes of science, a biased researcher is a disgrace, in the eyes of metaphysics he is legitimate, he creates, molds precisely from his bias an answer to his requests and... is satisfied.
In fact, where does Mr. Bulgakov begin? Because a person longs to believe that good is an all-conquering power.
Wonderful. The person asks the question: Is this so? And Mr. Bulgakov offers him the knowledge that this is so, this knowledge is the very faith that we wanted to substantiate. Mr. Bulgakov himself says that the word “knowledge” is not very suitable here. Very little, not even suitable at all. To know means to be confident on the basis of “logical indisputability”; to believe means to blindly rely on authority or the voice of feeling.
So, Mr. Bulgakov says that positivism cannot prove to us that goodness is power, this is its weakness. Mr. Bulgakov is stronger, he can answer the question of questions with an order to believe that goodness really is power.
Positivism cannot provide logically indisputable proof that the value of the world is increasing, but such proof, as is clear from the words of Mr. Bulgakov himself, cannot be given by either metaphysics or religion. Religion is based on the presence of a sense of faith, but the fact of the matter is that “the question of all questions” can only be asked by those who doubt, and religion, in the words of Mr. Bulgakov himself, can only forbid him to doubt, recommend that he have more faith.
“Blessed is he who believes!”, Mr. Bulgakov.
We see, therefore, that both in the knowledge of individual phenomena and in the knowledge of the world as a whole, and, finally, in its assessment, positivism sharply differs from religious and metaphysical thinking and replaces them. The need for integrity of knowledge and an assessment of the world is not at all a metaphysical and religious need, it is simply a usurpation, since these needs find their complete satisfaction (although not final, as with metaphysicians) without the help of the assumption of an other world, a super-experiential being, which assumption is a sign of metaphysics, as its very name shows, and religion in the exact sense of the word (as faith in a super-experiential world).
The metaphysical need has not died: it is the need of the faint-hearted for an unconditional guarantee of the value of the person himself in the eyes of the world, or something that is even higher than the world; this is a desire to close one’s eyes to the tragic situation of intelligent creatures among the vastness of the universe - tragic, but inspiring, but calling, combative, fascinating, even cheerful for an active nature.
The metaphysical need still lingers in the ignorant masses and in a small citadel inhabited by cowardly people. However, perhaps I am exaggerating the number of active positivists in comparison with those thirsting for otherworldly
helpers and patrons. But in any case, there can be no peace between one and the other.
As we have already said, positivism leaves the question of the distant future fate of humanity in doubt, but since life at the present time is not and cannot be “satisfaction,” positivists call for activity as a natural manifestation of dissatisfaction.
But Mr. Bulgakov desperately wants to prove that positivism has a “theory of progress” and that this “theory” is, in essence, faith or, at least, metaphysics.
In order to see what empty nonsense this is, we will first have to consider what our author is lumping together under the name of “the theory of progress.”
Mr. Bulgakov throws three completely dissimilar things into one pile, namely: 1) an abstract theory of progress, relating to world assessment, and not to world knowledge, and answering the question: what should be the process for us to call it progress? 2) the theory of evolution, which answers the question: what is the general nature of the process we observe in the experimental world? and 3) a theory of specific cultural progress, answering the question of what are the trends of our culture and its immediate stages.
How does positivism answer each of these questions?
1) One can easily formulate the highest conceivable ideal of life: this is the ideal of divine existence, since the images of gods were created precisely under the dictation of human natural needs. The world, according to this ideal, should be a constant and ever-growing material for immeasurable pleasure, which in turn grows. Humanity must be a group of individuals with a powerful growth in life, growth in power and knowledge, since pleasure, as psychology teaches, is only a positive feeling growing in its intensity. Humanity must become the fruit of the world for which it exists, serving as its root and trunk; the world must acquire in man its intelligent and powerful king and its “meaning.” Such is the natural ideal of proud humanity 880 .
Everything that leads to man’s victory over the external elements and over the internal elements that impede the progressive progress of humanity is progressive, the rest is either indifferent or regressive.
Mr. Bulgakov will scream that we are invading the area of metaphysics and religion, that we are appealing to the “ought” and to “faith.”
Mr. Bulgakov will be sadly mistaken if he does this. We are dealing here not with the category of what should be, but with the category of what is desirable, which easily and naturally fits into the framework of the scientific worldview, as a certain aspect of life.
We also do not resort to faith, because we establish only what we desire and what, as we, however, only believe, every developed person cannot help but desire. We do not at all assert that the world process is precisely progress in our sense, nor that man, as a definitely directed force among other forces of the world, will certainly be able to direct this process along the desired path; we establish only a criterion for evaluating processes and a guiding light for human activity.
I don’t know whether Mr. Bulgakov will understand me, but unprejudiced readers probably understood me. This ideal is superscientific, as every fact is superscientific: facts are given not by science, but by reality, and the ideal is a fact that we find in our inner experience. The task of science is to illuminate for us its origin and give a feasible answer to the question of its feasibility and the paths to it.
2) Perhaps, and even probably, over time there will be formulas for evolution that are more elegant and complete than Spencer’s, but for now it is the best. Here it is in Spencer’s own formulation:
“1) Everywhere in the universe, both in general and in particular, there is a continuous redistribution of matter and motion.
2) This redistribution is evolution when it is dominated by the integration of matter and the dispersion of motion, but it is decomposition when it is dominated by the absorption of motion and the disintegration of matter.
3) Evolution will be simple when the process of integration or the formation of a coherent aggregate is not complicated by other processes.
4) Evolution will be complex when, next to the primary change from an incoherent state to a coherent state, secondary changes occur, caused by the dissimilarity in the position of various parts of the aggregate.
5) These secondary changes transform the homogeneous into the heterogeneous - a transformation that, like the primary change, is found in the universe, both as a whole and in all (or almost all) of its parts: in aggregates of stars and nebulae; in the solar system; in the earth as an inorganic mass; in every animal and plant organism (Beer's law); in the collection of organisms during the geological period, in the spirit, in society, in all the products of social activity.
6) The process of integration, both in particular and in general manifestation, is combined with the process of differentiation in order to make this change not a simple transition from homogeneity to heterogeneity, but a transition from an indefinite homogeneity to a definite heterogeneity; and this increasing certainty, which accompanies increasing heterogeneity, appears, like the latter, both in the general totality of things, and in all its divisions and subdivisions, down to the smallest.
7) Along with the redistribution of the matter that makes up any developing aggregate, there is a redistribution of the preserved motion of its component parts in relation to each other; it too becomes, step by step, more defined and more heterogeneous.
8) In the absence of infinite and absolute homogeneity, this redistribution, one of the phases of which is evolution, is inevitable.
9) Equilibrium is the final result of the transformations experienced by the developing aggregate. These changes are carried out until a balance is reached between the forces to which all parts of the aggregate are exposed, and the forces opposed to them by these parts of the aggregate. On the way to final equilibrium, the process may pass through a transitional state of balanced movements (as in a planetary system) and balanced functions (as in a living body), but a state of rest for inorganic bodies and death in the organic world is the necessary limit of all changes that constitute evolution.
10) Decomposition is a process of reverse changes to which, sooner or later, every developing aggregate undergoes. Subject to the influence of surrounding unbalanced forces, every aggregate is constantly liable to be dissipated by the gradual or sudden increase of the motion contained in it; and this dispersion, rapidly undergone by bodies that have but recently lived, and slowly accomplished among inanimate masses, will undergo, at an indefinitely distant period, every planetary and stellar mass which, in an indefinitely distant period past, began gradually to develop: thus the cycle of transformations will end.
11) This rhythm of evolution and decomposition (ending among small aggregates in short periods, and among large aggregates requiring periods immeasurable by the human mind), as far as we can judge, is eternal and universal - each of the alternating phases of the process dominates at a certain moment in one place, at a certain moment in another, depending on local conditions.”
These are the facts. What can be their assessment, i.e. is evolution progressive? Yes, evolution is progressive and involution is regressive. Unity in diversity is the basic aesthetic principle; the more a person lives, feels, and is more satisfied (joyful) the more elements of the environment he can unite, i.e., embrace into a complete unity. Consequently, the world, differentiating and integrating in the eyes of man, becomes more and more beautiful, understandable, and therefore more familiar and valuable. Differentiation and integration of life is nothing more than its complication or enrichment, alongside which comes an increasingly complete organization of acquired wealth. The coincidence of the law of evolution with the tendency of man as a rational being is completely natural: man is the fruit of evolution, its fragment, affirming life, he must obviously affirm the law of life. People who deny life should therefore be considered sick.
A sick person who denies life should find progressive not evolution, but involution, that is, the disintegration of the world and its turning to relative non-existence - nirvana.
A person who affirms life would like to forever retain the law of evolution and foresee eternal development ahead; deniers of life would like to break the circle of samsara, the eternal rotation of the “great year” and plunge forever into oblivion 881.
Strictly speaking, science cannot deny any of the three possible perspectives: the eternal rotation of the evolutionary circle, the eternal process and final non-existence.
This question, of course, cannot be answered by either metaphysics or religion, that is, they can give, but an answer similar to the famous answer of the witty abbot to the question of Henry IV 882: “How many stars are there in the sky?” As you know, the abbot named some large figure, and when the king doubted its correctness, the abbot replied: “Please check, Your Majesty.”
But such answers may seem worthy of this name only to those who know how and want to fool themselves.
Due to the impossibility of answering the question about the fate of the world in the affirmative, positivism developed an answer to another question: what is the best way for a person to behave in view of the possibility of all three outcomes? In fact, at first glance it seems that the answer to this question should be given completely different, according to each of the possible solutions to the question of the world process, but in fact this is not the case.
Let me clarify this point for the readers with a small parable.
A sage with a gray beard appeared to one dissolute and witty reveler and, sternly fixing his eyes on him, said in a thunderous voice:
- Madman! or don't you know that at every moment of your life you live for eternity! Or don’t you know that your age, and your birth, and this moment will return again and again! And instead of decorating life, as befits an eternal object, what do you make of it?! You destroy body and soul and perish as a victim of vice.
“Uncle,” answered the reveler, “so this means this is not the first time I’ve lived on earth?” But if my existence inevitably repeats itself again and again in the form in which I live now, it means that my current life has already been determined in turn by the previous one! What can I do? If you have already pestered me countless times with these teachings, then I must not have listened to you each time - all for the same reasonable reason that nothing is permanent; All that remains is to take life as it is and play the role that an unknown director has forever given to us under an unknown prompter.
The sage frowned and said: “Pitiful man! I deceived you! The world will come to ruin. Everything will become great - and nothing will become insignificant. Really, before the horror of this prospect, you will not turn pale, and the glass will not fall out of your hands, and you will not take care to behave with dignity in front of the terrible face of the ruler, death?
- Eh, uncle! “I don’t like it when people disturb me,” said the reveler: “Really, if we all turn into nothing, then it doesn’t matter what we were.” I don’t think you would be happy with a gift if you were given a pinch of ash and told that it was an unusually wise tome. Ash remains ash, and nothing is always equal to zero, just like everything that comes to zero.
- Unhappy... you are a stain on the brow of humanity. With your mind you could serve the future. Know that in the future humanity is destined to conquer and reign over nature in a brilliant apotheosis. And you could contribute to this glory, but instead you spend your life in the company of obscene women and the rabble of the mob.
– So humanity is destined to win?! I’m sincerely glad, in this case they will manage without me. - And the reveler invited those present to play dice.
I am afraid to bore the reader with my parable, but I need to tell the second part of it.
The reveler was very pleased with his conversation with the sage and wholeheartedly considered it a victory. So he went to his brother, a serious man who spent his life in a laboratory where he brewed his elixirs that cured many diseases. Having come to him, the reveler said:
– Do you know that everything in the world is rotation and that nothing is new under the sun? Why are you sitting here and trying to come up with new elixirs, when those who are sick now will, no matter what, be sick again and again in future returns?
“I'm glad that I can at least ease their suffering again and again.”
“I said this on purpose,” the reveler said with a sly smile, “the world must perish, and does it matter whether you cure Ivan and Marya or not: we will all plunge into a black hole.”
“It does not follow from this that Ivan and Marya should have suffered even one moment longer,” answered the doctor.
The reveler was somewhat embarrassed! “But humanity...,” he said somewhat hesitantly, “will manage without you, it is destined to win...
“Oh, my work is not a burden to me, but a pleasure, and I am glad to participate in the struggle, no matter whether it is victorious or not.”
- But what do you care about others! - the reveler cried with annoyance, - eat, drink and be merry.
“My friend,” said the doctor, “this bores me.” I enjoy creating new value to the best of my ability.
– Is it possible to ask why a person does what brings him joy? For the joy of creativity.
- A! - exclaimed the reveler, - I caught you! there is no difference between us! I love Lafite, my friend prefers liqueur, and you have a taste for creativity, because everything comes down to one pleasure.
-You're right, brother. I will not exchange my inheritance for yours, just as you will not exchange mine. No one can be convinced by arguments of reason that creativity is better than Lafite, but I hope to raise my children and the children of my neighbors in my spirit, because the creativity of values makes life wider and deeper, more royal and fuller, and this idea delights me. Your pleasures, at best, leave you as what you are. I don’t know what is destined for humanity, but if it has the power to win, then obviously it’s on my path. I think that there will be more and more of us, and less and less of you. We create and fight, we look inquisitively into the future in order to correctly guide the ship of life. We are fighting for the immediate happiness, which is undeniable, and so on step by step. If we hit a wall, the best of us will probably cease to live, preferring death to the narrowed scope of creative life, and the worst of us will “exist.” I would like to see humanity and individuals conquer or die without giving up an inch of the perfection and power they have conquered.
I think that among people those who think like me are stronger and will gain an advantage over you, and then they will go forward as far as they can, perhaps to endless power over the world and the deification of man, but, in any case, they will not humiliate themselves, and even when they die, they will be satisfied that in life they were warlike and proud and never humiliated themselves. And in this they will see the meaning of their life and the sufficient meaning of the world in their eyes.
The reveler left his brother deep in thought, because his brother was beautiful when he said this. Meanwhile, a young priest who had overheard everything rushed towards the scientist. “Doctor,” he said, “how much strength will you give to yourself and yours when you believe that there are great and omnipotent beings who help you.” “But the doctor smiled and said: “Get out.”
Although our parable turned out to be disproportionately long, we have said everything we wanted regarding a positive assessment of the world, and we can only add something about the third theory of progress.
Mr. Bulgakov claims that the theory of progress has its Jenseits in the idea of the future happiness of mankind. Now we can ask Mr. Bulgakov, what kind of theory of progress is this? If abstract, then it only answers the question of what we would call progress.
If the theory of world evolution, then, as far as we know, not a single evolutionist has dared to assert that the happiness of mankind is an inevitable end or is an inevitable link in the world process.
Mr. Bulgakov, in a lively manner, then equates the theory of progress and sociology, and for him sociology turns out to be nothing more than scientific socialism.
Did socialism, as Mr. Bulgakov claims, really want to predict and prove the inevitability of the onset of the socialist system, which is also the “ideal of modern humanity” (for example, the bourgeoisie? the peasantry? the Chinese? the Papuans?)?
But, Mr. Bulgakov, there is no need to use special efforts to prove “with a few basic points” “that social science, by its very cognitive nature, is not capable of prediction.”
“What does it mean to predict the future? This means accurately (NB. – author’s italics) to determine the occurrence of future events at a certain point in space and time.”
ABOUT! Mr. Bulgakov! For God's sake, don't break into open doors! Neither Marx, nor Engels, nor sociology, nor any theory of progress deals with such things. Why exactly? It would be good if we could at least approximately, in general terms, predict the course of future events.
But this does not mean predicting! Well, okay, Marx did not pretend to be a prophet.
But this is where Mr. Bulgakov becomes magnificent.
“All other predictions are simply commonplaces, sometimes called, out of decency, in social science the word “development trend.”
If I had not known that I had read these lines in Mr. Bulgakov’s book, I would have thought that Mr. Berdyaev was writing this: such profound scientific helplessness and ignorance emanates from this phrase.
At different times, Mr. Bulgakov “approached Plato, Windelband, Riehl” and someone else! ABOUT! if only he had sometimes approached, even briefly, Hume, Mill, and natural science!
We will not insist on Mr. Bulgakov’s obvious slip of the tongue that “commonplaces” are called “development trends.” This is obvious nonsense.
The development trend is a fact, or rather, a scientifically established gradualism in a number of facts, for example: the contraction of the sun, the transition from homogeneous to heterogeneous in embryonic development, the concentration of capital in industry.
Mr. Bulgakov confuses the development trend with its formula. And this is what he says about this formula: “This is the most general formula, expressing the meaning of the development that has taken place so far and summarizing it, but devoid of factual content,” our epistemologist continues, “only mentally continued from the present to the future, this tendency immediately turns into a common place, into a game of the mind, devoid of any serious meaning.”
First of all, I ask you to compare the words I have underlined with the following lines:
“Humanity will never stop thinking about tomorrow and introducing into its ideas about it the understanding of the reality of today and yesterday that social science provides. In the same way, no one can do without making a certain judgment, on the basis of common sense and scientific experience, not only about the present, but also about the near future, for which each of us works. If we call this a prediction, then making predictions about the future in this sense is the right and duty of every conscious person.”
But this is devoid of “any serious significance,” Mr. Bulgakov?
But that's not the point. The fact is that Mr. Bulgakov has no idea about science, about scientific methods. All natural science rests on “the most general formulas that express and summarize the meaning of previously occurring phenomena.”
How could it be otherwise, Mr. Bulgakov? All the laws of mechanics, physics, chemistry - all these are also formulas; when a physicist predicts how the experiment in his office will proceed now, he only judges by the evidence of the past, only “mentally continues from the present to the future.”
All technology, all human life rests on this.
In order for the predictions of science to be accurate, they proceed as follows: they are completely abstracted from influences that are side effects from the point of view of the person being studied, they single out one series of phenomena, force it to act as if in emptiness, if possible, then through an appropriately arranged scientific experiment, and if not, then mentally taking into account the result of such side effects, making a mental reconstruction of the phenomenon, as if outside the side effects (abstract-analytical method).
So, the simpler the phenomena, the easier it is to decompose them into already examined trends, the more accurate their prediction. But the path to an accurate prediction is always the same: to discover and highlight all trends in phenomena.
Mr. Bulgakov takes the name of astronomy in vain. One can suspect that the venerable idealist is very superficially familiar or even completely unfamiliar with this science, otherwise he would know that astronomy at every step resorts to an abstract-analytical method: it composes the movements of the planets from a rectilinear definite movement past the sun (tangential to its orbits) and a definite movement towards the center of the sun, but at the same time it does not yet receive an accurate prediction - but only an approximate one - these are only the tendencies of the movement of the planets, various third-party influences intervene in it, producing perturbations.
Let me give you a small example from the field of astronomy, which Bulgakov so victoriously contrasts with poor sociology.
In 1820, Biela discovered a comet, the paths of which were accurately explored, and the period of its return was precisely calculated. But in 1846, completely unexpectedly for the scientific world, instead of one comet two appeared, the distance between which increased with each new appearance, and starting in 1852 the comet simply stopped appearing.
Here's an "accurate prediction" for you.
Or, for example, astronomers, without falling into despair at all and not at all finding that they are engaged in an empty mind game, state that Comet Encke, with each new revolution, reaches the point closest to the sun 24 hours earlier than it should be by calculation.
And imagine! Mr. Bulgakov will not believe how frivolous these astronomers are! perfect sociologists! They saw in these and similar facts a development trend and built a theory according to which the revolutions of all luminaries are gradually slowing down, due to which all comets and planets should eventually merge with the mass of the sun.
But to top the scandal, the rebellious comet Encke, for example, from 1865 to 1871 did not shorten its path at all!
The astronomers shrugged their shoulders and very calmly, with frivolity, one might say sociological, decided that “modern hypotheses do not exhaust all the forces that can influence the movement of a comet.”
So, scientific predictions are always relative, since they are always “mental continuations of trends in reality” and, of course, devoid of “factual content,” since we are talking about the future, and the word “fact” means “what has happened.”
There is no fundamental, fundamental difference between natural science and sociology, but only a difference in the complexity of the phenomena to be studied by these sciences. Sociology is nothing more than a branch of natural science.
And when Mr. Bulgakov writes that “Historical concepts do not increase our knowledge, but only our understanding,” then he betrays his own ignorance and misunderstanding of the essence of science, which, introducing regularity into the chaos of facts, has as its goal to clarify the future.
We will move further following our mystagogue 883.
Having “proven” the inconsistency of science in the discovery of absolutes, the very ones that this science denies in every possible way, our mystagogue then imposes “religion” on the positivists.
As a matter of fact, the writer of these lines, without, of course, placing responsibility for his personal opinions on that social and philosophical school, to which he proudly counts himself as adherents, must declare that he would have nothing against the expression “positive religion”, protesting with all his might, however, against “positive metaphysics” - this “wooden iron”.
We personally tend to understand by religious feeling a feeling of connection between the individual and various great environments: nationality, party, humanity, cosmos, a sense of belonging to some higher individuality; and under religious philosophy - the study of the origin and evolution of super-individual feelings and their aesthetic and socio-biological (which is essentially the same thing) assessment.
But Mr. Bulgakov understands something completely different by religion.
“Why is humanity endowed with perfection, immortality, absoluteness?” - Mr. Bulgakov asks those positivists - and, it seems, there are many of them - who have nothing against the expression “religion of humanity.”
Oh, Mr. Bulgakov! We know very well and sadly feel how imperfect, how pitiful humanity is even before the ideal of the present generation, even before the light of the image that its friends create in their imagination, as an immediate and completely feasible goal.
The “absoluteness” of humanity! What kind of game is this! How can anything concrete, some part of the universe, something given in experience be absolute. This is logical absurdity.
But the mystagogue casually, as if it were a matter of course, throws out: “Only with the presence of these properties is a religious attitude possible.”
OK! This means that our attitude, according to your terminology, is not religious.
Imagine that someone would, for example, be sure that morality and the prescriptions of the Talmud are one and the same, and would call everyone who thinks, feels and acts not according to the Talmud immoral? - Well, let him!
But Mr. Bulgakov has good reasons.
“It is unbearable for a person to see the highest and final goal of existence in this transitory and accidental existence.”
It would be terribly difficult for us to talk with Mr. Bulgakov! His entire psyche is thoroughly imbued with his specific religiosity, he puts everything within his own framework!..
Whether existence has a “goal,” that is, whether it, or someone above it, thinks in the categories of a goal, in human terms is a question, moreover, an insoluble and therefore idle question.
The question of what is the purpose of life, that is, in other words, what rational use can a person make of the fact of his existence is a completely different matter? – to which a very positive and important question, in general, is answered: to make this life as full, strong, or, what is the same, beautiful. After all, we know that under certain conditions life is a positive value, living becomes joyful - well, that means the goal of life should be a joyful, possibly more joyful life.
And not a single person, mind you, escapes either the positive question or the positive answer that we have outlined. All people, in essence, ask: “How should I live?” – and this question constitutes a reasonable kernel of the pompous and naive question about the “highest purpose of being.”
But why is it unbearable for a person to see the purpose of his life in his own, individual life?
First of all, Mr. Bulgakov’s very statement is doubly incorrect. Firstly, there are many people who quite calmly see the purpose of their life precisely in the fullness of purely egoistic experiences. And often these are excellent specimens of the homo sapiens breed.
Secondly, in the opposite way, so to speak, by ricocheting, humanity, higher goals, being, everyone returns to himself: even when a person makes himself an instrument of higher powers, this is nothing more than a mental device for regulating, improving his life, even self-sacrifice and suicide are egoistic acts, in the broader sense of the word.
But that's not important. The important thing is that in a person, or at least in many people, due to purely biological reasons, there is a thirst for life, a thirst for growth and development. Such a person needs to build further and higher than himself, the framework of individuality is narrow for him, and he associates himself with a higher unit: clan, tribe, nation, and finally, humanity.
Of course, they don’t stop at humanity; they also cross this border and talk about space. But here all content either evaporates or becomes false.
Adhering to empirical data, we can only say one thing: space is an arena for the collision of various tendencies, partly unconscious, partly conscious, space is the same struggle as society, and in both cases it is most correct to be an ally or a member of the most progressive of the tendencies given in experience: therefore we can say that cosmic religion (positivist) coincides with the religion of humanity; improvement of the species, internal consistency of all-human society and its primacy in the surrounding world remain the main, cornerstones of the “Pan-ideal” 884. So, the content here remains the same. The expansion of the religion of humanity to the limits of cosmic religion does not introduce new content.
If they try to see a superhuman, but human-like principle behind the cosmos, then the content is falsified. The same human goals are pursued, but no longer as free, purely human, but as prescribed, destined.
So, an active person, full of life, lives, wants and can live by the goals of humanity, because his life, thanks to this, acquires enormous scope. Such a person will not want to reconcile for a goal less than the triumph of humanity over the elements; going beyond the framework of human goals, as we tried to prove, is meaningless for him.
If he believed in the inevitable feasibility of his ideal, he would be a blind believer, but he does not need this: he, together with all progressive humanity, sets a goal for himself and tries to realize it to the best of his ability in his individual field.
Everything that Mr. Bulgakov says about Guyot and Fichte once again shows what a gulf exists between us, two types of people: the motto “pas être lâche” 885 seems to Mr. Bulgakov a “sad refrain.” And Fichte’s pompous phrases evoke delight in him, although they only reflect the desire to hide from himself, to speak death in red words, because nothing in the world proves to me that “my will soars even over the ruins of the universe.” I know too well how the poor thing perishes even from the action of microscopic microbes that have settled in the blood and caused the decline of organic life. If, while speaking his phrases, Fichte had slipped and broken not the universe, no, but only his head, and even then not much, then his “will” could not even raise his body to its feet. The only way to fail to see that mental life is unconditionally connected with the life of a small body, a microscopic part of the universe, is to bury your head in fear in the sand of the Arabian desert and engage in fruitless ranting.
No, raise it, this head, look at least death in the face - “pas être lâche”! For those who cannot fulfill these conditions, leave the ranks of the positivists, and go to the infirmary, to the idealists!
Meanwhile, our mystagogue, having imposed on positivism a belief in some kind of “absoluteness of humanity,” which is just as possible as the “absoluteness of the species” or any concept that forms part of the concept of “being,” ends his chapter on the religion of humanity like this:
“Thus, positivism, which strives only for positive knowledge and therefore fundamentally denies both metaphysics and religious faith, ends up in superstition. Faith in humanity, this holy and cherished faith, is degraded by positive philosophy to the level of mere caprice and superstition.”
What, what is not here in this refutation, your eyes run wild, you don’t know where to start!
First of all, social eudaimonism “takes into account the balance of world joy and sorrow and wants there to be more and more joy and less and less sorrow.”
But where to get a unit for measurement? The sum of all joys and the sum of all sorrows - after all, this is only a “theoretical result”, each is perceived separately (this “apt” repetition for the thousand and first time of a banal objection belongs, according to Mr. Bulgakov, to the archimistago, the late Vladimir Solovyov).
In a word, “the pursuit of universal happiness is an impossible undertaking, for this goal is completely elusive and uncertain.” Each disease is perceived separately, and the statistics of diseases in a given area is a theoretical result. Oh, foolish doctor, striving to lower this figure, you are striving for an “elusive” goal.
But, Mr. Bulgakov, do another 1000 well-aimed repetitions, and humanity will continue to fight mortality, poverty, and ignorance! Mr. Bulgakov, you loudly ended your brilliant lecture about Karamazov with the words: “Let our conscience hurt until we have the power to teach a child, feed him... until we hug, kiss, sing joyful songs.”
But why should we strive for these elusive goals? So that the “child” receives “new sources of suffering”? Or was it a ringing phrase, a trumpet fanfare for the finale of a philosophical overture? Or are these phrases “legal” only in the mouth of a “pious” speaker?
Completely, leave the phrases about the impossibility of the struggle for happiness to the enemies of progress, who want to assure that there is no way to improve the situation of the suffering “child” and his suffering parents! And in our opinion, it is a shame to respond to reasonable plans to alleviate human suffering, to spread the joy of life with stupid, yes, stupid sophisms about some kind of balance!
Every factory law could be repealed on the basis of such a lofty consideration; it would not make people happier, but even industrialists do not clutch at this dilapidated, rotten weapon. Most suffering is the result of a social disease that can and should be treated. It's crazy to hear people talk about "balance" in such an unambiguous issue.
But Mr. Bulgakov is such an “original” thinker that, having repeated the abstract and thoughtful “refutation” of reactionary ideologists, he goes even further.
Social eudaimonism is not only meaningless, but immoral.
“Social eudaimonism, essentially the same Epicureanism, is condemned by developed moral consciousness and due to the baseness of its basic principle. Happiness is a natural desire of a person (although it does not depend on his will), but only that happiness that is an incidental and unintentional result of moral activity and service to good is moral. If we put an equal sign between good and pleasure, then there is no fall and monstrous vice that would not be sanctified by this principle. The ideal from this point of view would be the conversion of humanity into an animal state, as accompanied by a minimum amount of suffering."
It would still be nice for Mr. Bulgakov to learn from some clever prestidigitator, well, at least from James. Let us assume that we have equated goodness with pleasure. What conclusion can we draw from this: get as much pleasure as possible? And, moreover, obviously, the best pleasures, since, as you know, they are not equivalent in anyone’s eyes. But Mr. Bulgakov immediately replaces the principle of the thirst for maximum pleasure with a thirst for minimum suffering. Pardon, we are not afraid of suffering, we want, at least at the cost of suffering, to achieve growth in strength, development of life, which, in our opinion, is the highest pleasure.
Mr. Bulgakov undoubtedly recognizes a hierarchy in the kingdom of values: there is small good and great good; doing little good all your life, you can turn out to be the most pitiful person, just like striving for little pleasure; from the fact that we have drawn an equality sign between pleasure and good, it does not at all follow that we declare all pleasures equal. Pleasure that interferes with other, more complex pleasures is already evil, just like a small good when it gets in the way of a great good 886.
Mr. Bulgakov's fears, as the reader sees, are very unfounded. Further, Mr. Bulgakov teaches about the benefits of the rod... that is, suffering. And why? Is it really so that positivists do not overdo it and do not completely destroy the sources of suffering?
“The desire to alleviate or eliminate the suffering of other people is one of the basic forms of moral life and active love, and compassion is one of the main virtues (Schopenhauer wanted to see it as even the only one). It may therefore seem that the elimination of suffering as such is the guiding goal of all moral activity. But the incorrectness of this judgment will become clear to us as soon as we pay attention to the fact that not every suffering deserves our sympathy - not that which is rooted in the immoral aspirations of a given person, and not that which does not cripple, but morally elevates a person. We will not want to alleviate the suffering of the usurer, who lost the opportunity to take a usurious interest, and we will consider it insane to want to alleviate the suffering of Faust the way Mephistopheles did, who took him away from them on Walpurgis Night 887. On the contrary, we are obliged to strive to alleviate people's misfortunes, to fight poverty, disease, enslavement - everything that stands in the way of the spiritual development of the people.
From here it turns out that compassion itself is under the control of a higher moral principle, and what is good in the moral sense should be valued by us above the suffering of both ours and others. The fight against human suffering loses the character of the main moral goal, and takes on the meaning of a subordinate one.”
So it turns out that there are sufferings that we should not sympathize with, and those that we should not alleviate.
We really do not want to alleviate the suffering of the moneylender; but to modify the social system, to educate new generations so that the type of person who suffers when he is not allowed to exploit his neighbor completely disappears - this is necessary. Faust's suffering, perhaps, does not need to be alleviated; but it is necessary to try to eliminate the possibility of Don Juanism destroying its victims by ennobling the education of some and raising the strength of existence and self-esteem of others.
Suffering is always evil, but sometimes it is the path to good. Is it the only one, however? Prove this... well, with at least one example. We will tell Mr. Bulgakov that a bad road is a disgusting thing, and he will recite: “These people absolutely do not understand the meaning of bad roads, while for a person who has lost his way, a bad road can be very useful.” Just Kozma Prutkov!
Further, Mr. Bulgakov, regarding the excellent formula of progress as the growth of needs and, together, the strength to satisfy them, teaches:
“The refining of sensuality, which does not excite, but suppresses the activity of the spirit, is a kind of moral disease, moral squalor, stemming from wealth, and not from poverty. Economists sometimes forget this two-sidedness of economic progress when, carried away by their special point of view, they identify it with the universal human and cultural one.”
This requires no comment. It is clear that the point here is not at all about the separation of morality and sensuality, but about the perversion of sensuality itself, preventing further progress. The ending of the chapter on eudaimonism, devoted to the theory of “manure for future harmony,” is not worth considering. Joyfully laying the foundation of a great building, leaving children and grandchildren to build floor by floor, means living and creating, and not being dung. Only a passive nature does not know the middle between the “goal in itself” - a barren double flower - and manure.
“To build one’s happiness on the misfortune of others is, in any case, immoral, and a view that justifies such a course of action, even if only for a future generation, is also immoral.”
He does not understand that in war everyone builds victory on mutual assistance: fighters standing next to each other, and ranks standing behind each other - on mutual assistance, and not on misfortune - and if one or another detachment suffered a hot battle, then why are those who reap the fruits of the courage and combat power of this detachment immoral?
Our mystagogue, despite the pitiful weakness of his argument, naively believes that he has completely trampled eudaimonism into the mud, and begins the next chapter with these words:
“Fairness requires recognizing that although all versions of the theory of progress have some flavor of eudaimonism, none of them consistently pursues it as an exhaustive principle.
There is no dispute that the ideal of universal personal and social improvement is much loftier than the previous one, but an attempt to substantiate it, from the point of view of positivism, leads to even greater difficulties. In order to talk about improvement as an approach or striving towards some ideal of perfection, you need to have this ideal in advance. And this is doubly true, because this improvement is conceived as endless; Consequently, none of these stages of development possesses this perfection, therefore the concept of perfection cannot be obtained inductively, from experience. This ideal, therefore, on the one hand, does not fit within the framework of relative experience - in other words, it is absolute; on the other hand, this absolute ideal, the development and implementation of which does not fit into experience, obviously can only be of non-experiential or super-experimental origin. Here, too, the well-trodden path of experience necessarily leads us to the difficult and rocky path of speculation.
Positivism once again borrows enormously from metaphysics, which again proves the impossibility of resolving the most basic questions of life and spirit within the boundaries of experimental knowledge.”
Mr. Bulgakov does not understand that improvement, i.e., the development of the needs and forces of mankind, is the condition for happiness, that it is accompanied, as physiology teaches, by the most intense feeling of pleasure, at the same time making this happiness more durable - he does not understand that, on the other hand, happiness is only a formal concept, meaning a certain mental state that can accompany completely different processes in different people and at different times, but that, according to positive practical philosophy, the highest formula of happiness is the happiness of development, and the worst form of unhappiness is the feeling of humiliation and failure. That is why Mr. Bulgakov sees a contradiction between eudaimonism and improvement, as everyone does, in whose consciousness there is still an abyss between the dignity and happiness of a person, who can be guided by the demands of dignity only when someone or something commands them to do so.
Rantations about the metaphysical nature of the idea of improvement and obligation stem precisely from this mental fragmentation. Improvement is a form of biological (and social) adaptation, a natural addition to life itself 888.
Mr. Bulgakov repeats Stammler, whom he himself refutes.
Contrary to the opinion of Mr. Bulgakov, determinism will not think of “respectfully standing aside before moral desire,” since it does not belong to the number of “pious” concepts. But it, of course, does not at all contradict empirical “free will”, but, on the contrary, is its necessary condition, as it has been beautifully explained many times (for example: Mill, Geffding, etc.).
Mr. Bulgakov ends the critical part of his article with these words:
“Thus, we reviewed all the main problems of the theory of progress and came to the general conclusion that all these problems exceed the strength of positive science or are not resolved by it at all, or lead to internal irremovable contradictions, or are resolved with the help of smuggling, that is, by introducing elements alien to it under the flag of positive science.”
We will also say that we have reviewed all of Mr. Bulgakov’s arguments and found that we have never had to read a more lightweight and pretentious work. And all the time we were faced with the question: what is this? - is it an unconscious lie, a product of a clerical mood, or a really deep... unfamiliarity with positive science, philosophy and a positive mood.
We should have added a third chapter about how “Mr. Bulgakov expounds his positive teaching,” and consider chapters VII, VIII and Mr. Bulgakov’s Postscriptum there, but I hope that neither the reader nor Mr. Bulgakov will be “annoyed” if we leave the ending of the article without analysis. Jameson-Bulgakov's critical foray into positivism is one of the worst and most clumsy examples of idealistic swagger, and Mr. Bulgakov's positive constructions are unlikely to confuse anyone.
Mr. Bulgakov’s tricks reminded us of one scene from Byron’s “Cain” 889:
“Cain. Why is every living thing unhappy?
Oh, it's true that He who created us suffers,
Having created sorrow! Create destruction
Could it really be joyful work?
Meanwhile, He is omnipotent, my father insists.
Where does evil come from, since He is good? – I asked
About this father; he replied that it was evil
Only the path to goodness. Oh strange goodness
When due from a mortal enemy
It is being born! I saw a lamb
The wounded snake: poor thing
Writhing around; his mother bleated
Helplessly and pitifully over him.
The father took out medicinal herbs and applied them to the wound.
I attached them; and pathetic creature
Little by little it came back to life, it became
Again the mother suckled, and she, trembling with happiness,
“Look, my son! - said Adam, - how evil
Lucifer. What did you answer?
He was silent, because he was my father - secretly
Thinking that it would be better for the lamb
To not be wounded at all is life
You can’t redeem your unfortunate one
At the cost of severe torment, even the defeated
(Translation of the book Elikonida Kudasheva)
It is generally easy for a positivist to cope with the critical attempts of the “pious,” but even among them Mr. Bulgakov occupies one of the last places in terms of logical strength, but he gains a lot in the eyes of his audience by the peculiar hysterical sincerity with which the articles of his collection are imbued. A person turns out his whole soul in front of you, cries, is horrified, prays and rejoices. His articles are a whole performance, and this cannot but attract a specific audience, which has accumulated quite a lot among the Russian intelligentsia.
Our personal impression is this: Mr. Bulgakov’s rhetorical exercises, from a logical point of view, are naive “cunning”, perhaps sincerely mistaking itself for victorious dialectics; from an aesthetic point of view, this tear, this tear in Mr. Bulgakov’s syllable, this tremolo 890 arouses in us some disgust. Some kind of warm paste, some kind of Catholic-clerical acting, a sick exaltation, where nervous ecstasy is inextricably combined with affectation and coquetry.
We will be glad if we no longer have to deal with either the honeyed and tear-jerking Mr. Bulgakov, or the tympanum-beating whirling dervish Mr. Berdyaev.
Orthodox (L.I. Axelrod). Newest Russian Idealists (On “Problems of Idealism”) 891
Ich beschwäre euch, meine Brüder, bleibt
der Erde treu und glaubt denen nicht, weiche
euch von uberirdischen HOffnungenreden:
Giftmischer sind es, ob sie es wissenoder nicht.
Nietzsche. Also sprach Zarathustra 892
Some Russian critics of Marx’s theory reverently believed in God and set out their new “critical” profession de foi 893 in a collection entitled “Problems of Idealism.”
Most legal so-called Marxists have associated Marx with Kant from the very beginning of their defense of the materialist understanding of history.
With the frivolity characteristic of the vast category of modern weak-hearted writers, these gentlemen tried to convince themselves and others that it was possible to accept the theory of knowledge of criticism, abandoning the “reactionary aspects, postulates” 894. But objective logic turned out to be stronger than the subjective inconsistency of critical Marxists. The theory of Marx-Engels, which expresses the liberation movement of the world proletariat and has become the only ideal of our time, cannot coexist with Kant’s liberalism, which represents a fairly complete ideological reflection of the liberation aspirations of the bourgeoisie of the 18th century. Therefore, critical Marxists, who combined the opposing theories of Kant and Marx, had to either change Kant and join entirely to the system of Marxism, or leave Marx aside and take the point of view of integral Kantianism with its “reactionary sides”.
The revival of Kantianism as a reaction against Marxism in Western Europe, on the one hand, ripe elements for the development of a certain political liberalism in Russia, on the other, all this brought forward Russian critical Marxists. Our Russian critics, with the same noisy haste as the Western ones, asserted that it was possible to discard the postulates of pure reason, abandoned Marx’s “dogma” and supplemented the cognitive foundation of criticism with the “reactionary aspects” flowing from it.
Thus, the “critique of pure reason” led to the criticism of “practical reason.” Ignoramus and Ignorabimus 895 were inevitably followed by Credo quia absurdum est 896. And the “outdated metaphysical dogma” of dialectical materialism gave way to a new, original critical epistemology of the Church Fathers.
In a word, critical Marxists have re-evaluated all values.
All the idealists of the above-mentioned collection are completely unanimous in the main and essential points of “epistemology,” or, more precisely, theology. Often one author complements and develops the thoughts of another, so that this collective work constitutes something completely whole and unified.
First of all, we will try to present the main content of this book, and we will confirm our presentation with the words of the authors themselves. It is possible that such a technique is tedious for the reader, but in this case it is absolutely necessary.
Our “idealists”, writers with “naked souls” fin du siècle 897. Nervous and overly sensitive, they have absorbed all the decadent, fashionable forms, have mastered several commonly used philosophical terms and, flaunting both with the tactlessness of real parvenus 898, try in every possible way to excite the nerves of the reader.
They dress up the old, semi-philosophical and completely unphilosophical content in a strange, colorful outfit and put it to use as something new and original.
This type of writing, widespread in our time, does not appeal to the reader’s reason, does not convince, but hypnotizes him. Impetuous, loud, hysterical style; a mysterious, prophetic tone filled with false religious pathos - all this seems to have been created in order to dispose the reader to blind faith, in other words, to weaken and cloud his rational activity.
In addition, the authors of “Problems of Idealism” are idealists, ethicists: therefore, they must defend ideals and morality. They really stand for both. On each page you will come across an infinite number of times the words: idealism, morality, ideal, self-improvement of the spiritual and moral personality, etc., etc. until the end of the book.
A reader who has a normal mental organization and a healthy moral instinct, developed under the influence of social life, actually has consciously and unconsciously formed concepts about morality. So, for example, by striving for an ideal, he understands movement forward towards a definite, concrete, more perfect future, the implementation of which must take place here on earth, within the boundaries of history; by morality - solidarity with one’s own kind, the ability and willingness to sacrifice personal interests and oneself for the good of society and future generations; under spiritual improvement - the expansion and deepening of the spiritual personality to the degree of merging of its life, its suffering, its triumph with the life, suffering and triumph of all humanity. The so-called ethics of “Problems of Idealism” has diametrically opposite content.
Therefore, we have set ourselves the task of revealing the real content of this “ideal” book, and we ask the reader to patiently and carefully delve into the thoughts of our “idealists”, which we will present to characterize their philosophical and ethical views.
The central place in “Problems of Idealism” is occupied by the foundations of ethics. According to the authors of this book, the view of progress, the construction of social science and the philosophy of law should depend on the formulation and solution of the principles of morality. The main and most desperate prophets of morality are Mr. Berdyaev and Mr. Bulgakov. Let's start with them.
“The purpose of my article,” writes Mr. Berdyaev, “is to make an experiment in posing an ethical problem on the basis of philosophical idealism” 899, this goal requires, first of all, a definition of the essence of ethics, which Mr. Berdyaev defines as follows: “Ethics is not a sociological and psychological science that searches for the laws of existence, it is a philosophical discipline that establishes the norms of what should be.” In practical philosophy, - Mr. Berdyaev quotes Kant, - the issue is not about the foundations of what happens, but about the laws of what should happen, even if it never happened. “Ethics,” Mr. Berdyaev immediately continues on his own behalf, “begins with the opposition of what is and what should be, and only as a result of this opposition is it possible” 900. Repeating Kant's thought, Mr. Berdyaev gives ethics not a positive, but a purely negative definition. From the point of view of such a negative definition, the essence of ethics lies in its opposition to reality. Ethics remains true to itself insofar as it is the source of pure moral norms that do not derive from experience.
In other words, this philosophical discipline is only possible because its principles have nothing to do with reality and cannot be embodied in it. According to this formulation of the question, Mr. Berdyaev is extremely disdainful of any theory of morality that has as its goal a real transformation of real life: “I am not talking about petty practical morality, which is hardly possible to deduce philosophically and which puts a fatal stamp of vulgarity on the work of the philosopher” 901. It turns out that even one attempt to establish a connection between what is ethically necessary and what actually exists “puts a fatal stamp of vulgarity” on Mr. Berdyaev’s philosophical work. In such a view of ethics lies the recognition of the complete substantive opposition between the world of moral-ought and the world of actual being. It is therefore not difficult to notice that Mr. Berdyaev accurately copied Kant’s dualism. He doesn't hide it. “The dualism of ethics and science is firmly established by Kant, and I share this dualistic point of view” 902.
Having nothing in common with the real world of experience, the moral obligation of obligatory presupposes the super-experiential world as the source of its origin. This super-experienced, intelligible world is an object of faith or, which is the same thing, postulated by practical reason. Having recognized the categorical imperative, Mr. Berdyaev had to come to the postulates of practical reason, i.e., the “reactionary sides.” “Kant’s greatest and immortal merit,” he now writes, “is that he finally smashed limited dogmatism, which believes only in the sensory world and takes upon itself the courage to prove the emptiness and illusory nature of the ideas of God, freedom and immortality” 903. Mr. Berdyaev now thinks incomparably more consistently than he thought then when he defended Kant’s formal ethics, assuring that the categorical imperative has nothing to do with the intelligible world.
The fact is that the supersensible world, which cannot, due to the limited competence of theoretical reason, be an object of experience, is a necessary complement to the dualism that Kant establishes between moral obligation and actual being. The categorical imperative is a pure consciousness of moral duty and manifests itself in us as a counterweight to all those of our impulses and motives that are determined by our nature.
As an empirical being, as a part of the sensory world, man acts under the influence of the instinct of self-preservation. All his motives, actions and goals as beings of nature are subject to the law of causality. “Bliss (Glückseligkeit),” says Kant, “is the awareness by a rational being of the pleasantness of life that continuously accompanies its entire existence.”
But next to the consciousness of the need to strive for self-preservation and earthly happiness, an opposite form of consciousness lives in man, which has a negative attitude towards his intentions and goals arising from the laws of nature.
This second form of consciousness, manifested in protest against the laws of nature, that is, against the law of causality, is a pure, unconditional, moral duty.
These opposing directions of consciousness, characteristic of the subject, are, from Kant’s point of view, separate and alien elements, which exclude each other to such an extent that each of them takes the form of a separate independent being. The first, striving for self-preservation and earthly good, acting, therefore, by virtue of the law of necessity, is a phenomenon; the second, being in a state of constant antagonism to the laws of nature, thus reflecting causal necessity, is the noumen.
Man as a phenomenon always depends and is always forced to act in a certain, strictly conditioned direction; deprived of free will, the law of his activity can be expressed by the formula: “You are forced.” On the contrary, as noumen, it stands in a negative relation to causality, and this denial of necessity can be expressed by the formula: “You can because you must.” Between these two creatures lies an insurmountable gap, and they relate to each other as the world on the other side relates to the world on this side.
It is clear that this moral obligation or pure moral will exists in the actual empirical world insofar as it is absolutely inactive in it. Never being realized on earth, the categorical imperative constitutes only a formal, moral law, which, existing in the consciousness of the human race, remains a motionless and endless ideal, the implementation of which is prevented by sinful human nature (das radicale Böse, as Kant calls it). Now the question is: where does this form of consciousness come from, what does it point to, and what is the meaning of this form of consciousness, which radically contradicts the consciousness of man as a being of the real world?
To answer this question, it is necessary to assume freedom, immortality and God, that is, the supersensible world. Freedom - since the commandment: “You can, because you must,” presupposes the possibility of subordinating oneself as a natural being, as a phenomenon to oneself, as a rational being, a noumenon; immortality - because in this world such subordination is virtually impossible and, therefore, can only be realized outside the boundaries of empirical existence; God - because only he, as the ruler of the sensory and supersensible kingdom, is able to eliminate the insurmountable contradiction that exists between sinful nature and the requirement of pure moral will.
From the categorical imperative there really “jumps out,” thus, “a deus ex machina 904, a personal individual being, abiding high in heaven.”
Pure, causeless moral obligation, which does not have any influence on our reality, should only serve as a guarantee of a better ideal existence in the future afterlife.
It is not difficult to notice that in all this analysis Kant resumed the metaphysics and ascetic ethics of Plato, which formed the basis of the Christian religion.
Just as for Plato the body serves as an insurmountable obstacle to the unity of the soul with the deity, so for Kant the phenomenon is the same insurmountable obstacle to the realization of the moral ideal here, within the confines of earthly existence. According to Plato's system, the fusion of the soul with the universal spirit or the highest good can only occur after its deliverance from the body; This is precisely how, according to Kant, the morally obligatory is realized in its primary source in the intelligible world. All these mystical, religious conclusions were made by Kant himself in his moral proof of the existence of God and the immortality of the soul.
Let's return to our “idealists”. Having agreed with the existence of the immortality of the soul and free will, in short, recognizing the “reactionary sides” as a necessary postulate of practical reason, Mr. Berdyaev leaves the supersensible world, returns to our sinful planet and, as a son of heaven, raises his formidable voice against eudaimonism, altruism, class struggle, in a word, against all objects of non-divine origin.
But about these sermons of his later, now let’s get down to presenting the views of another “idealist,” Mr. Bulgakov.
Mr. Bulgakov in his, so to speak, general philosophical article comes to faith on the basis of the following considerations:
“A person asks and cannot help but ask not only how, but what, why and why (italics by Mr. Bulgakov). Positive science has no answer to these questions; more precisely, it does not pose them and cannot resolve them 905 *. Their resolution lies in the area of metaphysical thinking, which thus defends its rights along with positive science. The competence of metaphysics is greater than that of positive science, both because metaphysics solves questions that are more important than questions of experimental knowledge, and because, using speculation, it gives answers to questions that are beyond the power of experimental science” 906. From this extract it clearly follows that the competence of metaphysics is based, in the opinion of Mr. Bulgakov, on the spiritual need of man in this philosophical discipline. The same spiritual need for knowledge of the final goal of the universe should serve as evidence against the modern scientific worldview, based on mechanical causality 907. “There is nothing more bleak and deadening,” writes Mr.
Bulgakov - views such as the one according to which the world and our life seem to be the result of absolute chance, absolutely devoid of any internal meaning. Even the most pessimistic systems pale before the chilling horror of this view.”908
To prove the universal moral need for metaphysics, we further cite the profound consideration that even those philosophical systems that deny metaphysics, such as “materialism” 909, “positivism” and “neo-Kantianism”, recognize the legitimacy of this discipline by the very fact of their negative attitude towards it. “All these schools, even those denying metaphysics, have their own answers to its questions. In fact, if I raise the question about the existence of God, or about the essence of things (Ding sich), or about free will and then answer these questions negatively, then I do not destroy metaphysics at all, on the contrary, I thereby recognize it” 910. While recognizing the need for metaphysics, Mr. Bulgakov is not satisfied with it. His anxious spirit finds complete and complete calm only in religion, to which, in the fair opinion of Mr. Bulgakov, all metaphysics inevitably leads. Religious faith alone is able to console and warm a person’s yearning soul.
Knowing, obviously, that all existing evidence in this direction has suffered a final collapse, Mr. Bulgakov begins by abandoning all argumentation on the merits. “Faith,” he says, “is a way of knowing without proof, communicating things hoped for, revealing things unseen,” according to the excellent description of it by the Apostle Paul 911. “The circle of what is accessible to faith is wider than the circle of what is accessible to discursive thinking; You can even believe in something that not only has not been proven, but also cannot be made completely understandable to reason” 912. Having abandoned discursive thinking, Mr. Bulgakov takes the point of view of Vl.’s “epistemology”. Solovyov, “who considered the love and goodness of God to be the beginning of the world” 913.
God, therefore, exists on the “epistemological” basis that “faith is a way of knowing without evidence, hoping for knowledge, revealing things invisible.” Having thus substantiated, Mr. Bulgakov, with the air of a winner, begins to save free will. What follows here, first of all, is Stammler’s pathetic sophism about the quasi-existing contradiction between the knowledge of the objective historical process with the subjective influence on it, a sophism against which several years ago Mr. Bulgakov objected so vehemently, albeit superficially, and against which there are objections in orthodox Marxist literature 914 . But Mr. Bulgakov does not take into account either his own objections or the objections of orthodox Marxists 915. Completely surrendering to his idealistic impulse, he writes... whatever comes to his mind.
In addition to Stammler's sophism, Mr. Bulgakov presents the following argument against determinism. “Why,” he asks, “from a number of my past actions, which have absolutely equal significance from the point of view of the common rule of the law of causality for them, do I classify some as moral, in agreement with the law of duty, and others as immoral, in disagreement with it?” 916 From here it should follow that the indifference of actions from the point of view of the law of causality and their difference from the point of view of moral assessment serves as proof of the existence of causeless moral will. The primary source of this causeless moral will is the super-experienced moral world order established from above. Absolute 917 realizes its highest moral goals in the universe in general and in the history of mankind in particular. Only with the help of conscious divine power does it become possible to understand and explain historical movement.
Progress, which includes a moral assessment in its definition, is devoid of any meaning as long as it is considered from the point of view of the law of mechanical causation. Mr. Bulgakov, therefore, concludes his discussions of progress with these solemn words: “The modern social struggle will appear to us not as one clash of hostile interests, but as the implementation and development of a moral idea. And our participation in it will not be motivated by class egoistic interest, but will be a religious obligation, an absolute order of the moral law” 918.
Along with the presentation of general philosophical views, Mr. Bulgakov casts his critical gaze towards positive knowledge in general and sociology in particular. His epistemological criticism of these disciplines boils down to some superficial and meager remarks.
The first and essential drawback of science is, as we have seen, that while it requires precise methods and precise logical discursive thinking, it is limited in scope. In other words, one can only scientifically know what really exists and what one can seriously count on; Meanwhile, how can one believe in something that is not, has not been and will not be. This “epistemological” consideration applies to the positive sciences in general. As for sociology, this area is even narrower and more limited than the natural sciences, since sociological concepts “depend on the specific historical material from which they are abstracted. This material changes, and concepts change. There can be an innumerable number of them due to the diversity of material, which has created the inexhaustibility of the creativity of history” 919. Consequently, sociological predictions are impossible both due to the non-repeatability of historical material and due to the complexity of creative forms.
The natural sciences are thus distinguished both by their constancy of objective content and by their different subjective attitude towards them. Social sciences “are, therefore, only a more or less accurate logical mirror of reality” 920. Having finished criticizing positive and social science, Mr. Bulgakov, like Mr. Berdyaev, begins preaching his ethical views.
Messrs. with all the strength of his moral indignation. idealists focused on criticizing eudaimonism and especially altruism. In their opinion, the theory of scientific socialism, based on class struggle, class antagonism and class solidarity, is distinguished by its eudaimonic and altruistic character. “One modern teaching, coming from the camp of those who consider themselves the greatest and, moreover, principled enemies of the bourgeoisie, is distinguished by a completely bourgeois character, and therefore a hedonistic character,” writes Mr. Bulgakov. We mean the famous doctrine of class interests” 921. Believing that the psychological and ethical basis of scientific socialism is the desire to realize the happiness of mankind, Messrs. idealists try to prove that this desire does not stand up to criticism either from a psychological or from an ethical point of view. Their reasoning on this matter is as follows.
Firstly, it is absurd and impossible to strive to reduce the amount of suffering for the reason that it is impossible “to find a unit for measuring joys and sorrows, because in each of these states we have something individual, determined not quantitatively, but qualitatively, so the scale of measurement by time or number is not applicable here” 922. Further, the eudaimonic and altruistic theory of morality determined by it does not stand up to criticism due to the fact that altruism necessarily presupposes the sacrifice of one person in favor of another, one generation for another generation. “The eudaimonic ideal of progress,” argues Mr. Bulgakov, “as a scale when assessing historical development, leads to directly opposite conclusions. For from this point of view, the suffering of some is a moment of happiness for others.” Our descendants are seen as vampires feeding on our blood. “To build one’s happiness on the misfortune of others is in any case immoral, and the view that justifies such a course of action, even regarding the future generation, is also immoral” 923.
From here it is clear that both an individual and an entire generation must care only about themselves and defend only their selfish interests. Sacrificing oneself for the benefit of an individual or society is immoral, because such a sacrifice puts the individual or society that uses it in an immoral position. In addition, Mr. Bulgakov further reproaches “social eudaimonism” in the fact that “this teaching is completely incapable of assessing the necessity and ever-elevating significance of suffering.” “Suffering is morally necessary for man,” “The cross is a symbol of suffering” 924. The doctrine of equality, which seeks to eliminate human suffering, thus sins against ethics. What has already been said so far quite clearly outlines the essence of the moral theory of “philosophical idealism.” Absolute, extreme, unlimited egoism constitutes the fundamental basis of this, so to speak, morality.
The ethics of “philosophical idealism” rebels in the sharpest and most cynical way against love and compassion for one’s neighbor, as against feelings, affects and impulses that limit the fullness of life and personal freedom. Mr. Berdyaev, who once and for all mixed cynicism with courage of thought, discusses the moral duties of the “ideal” personality as follows: “Eudaemonists often defend altruism and say that the happiness of another person should be placed above one’s own, even to sacrifice one’s happiness in the name of someone else. All this reasoning is devoid of any ethical meaning. Every “I” has the same right to happiness as “you”” 925. Consequently, the desire for one’s own boundless happiness and complete pleasure has an ethical meaning.
The moralists of “philosophical idealism,” who took as their point of departure the categorical imperative standing outside of social development, came to their final conclusion to the absolute extreme individualism of Friedrich Nietzsche. The third idealist, Mr. Frank, took upon himself the task of combining Kant's categorical imperative with Nietzsche's bourgeois individualism. In his article, small in content and painstaking in form, created for fashionable lovers of piquant and comforting discussions about their superhuman self, Mr. Frank is engaged in building Nietzschean individualism on the idealistic foundation of transcendental philosophy. From Friedrich Nietzsche, Mr. Frank borrows his extreme individualism and rejects the evolutionary point of view of this writer; from Kant he takes the categorical imperative, throwing out the Christian, ascetic element from it. Having freed the categorical imperative from its ascetic element, protest against earthly pleasures and the demand for rigor in relation to oneself, Mr.
Frank agrees with Kant's ascetic ethics because it involves a cold and cruel attitude towards the empirical, i.e. living personality of others 927.
Cleared of rigorism in relation to oneself, the categorical imperative coincides with the morality of the Nietzschean superman.
Mr. Frank therefore formulates the real essence of Kant’s ethics in this way: “The moral law first of all demands that a person never be a slave, even if it is slavery to someone else’s suffering and weakness and his own pity for it, so that a person does not extinguish his spirit, does not renounce his rights to unlimited development and improvement, even if it is a refusal in the name of the well-being of other people and the whole society” 928. It is quite obvious that the essence of this moral theory boils down to the fact that a person has unlimited rights and knows no responsibilities. “The opposition between duty and “I,” further argues Mr. Frank, “from an ethical point of view is absurd, since duty is the legislation of the “I”” 929. A person, completely freed from any moral duty towards others, must, in the opinion of Mr. Frank, recognize the “Dionysian principle of life”, which consists, as Mr. explains.
Berdyaev, in moral principles of this kind: “The human “I” develops by increasing life, and therefore the old call to “live to the fullest” never loses its meaning. Man has an insane thirst for life, intense and bright, life strong and powerful, at least for its evil, if not for its good. This is an extremely valuable thirst, and it is better to intoxicate a person than to have it completely absent. This is the god Dionysus making himself felt" 930. These are the basic, main principles of the ethical theory of the “idealists.”
Philosophical idealism finally removes all social responsibilities from the individual and gives him the sublime moral right to “live to the fullest,” “at least with his evil, if not with his good.”
So the self is absolutely free and absolutely sacred. It cannot and should not be limited either by the interests of an individual person or by the interests of an entire society. An individual commits, as we have seen, the greatest crime against his own spirit when, for the good of the individual or society, he curtails his desire to “live to the fullest.” This is the attitude of the individual to the reality around him. But if there are not and should not be any concrete, social connections between the individual and society, then she nevertheless abstractly respects other people’s “I”s that make up the social whole. This abstract respect is based on the substantive equality of people. “To recognize and respect a person in another,” says Mr. Berdyaev, “to treat him humanely, this means to see in him “I,” that is, value similar to one’s own” 931.
This means that the substantial, abstract equality of people requires recognition of their equality before the law, since the law as such, representing an abstraction from all real properties and material inequality, expresses the generic substantial human mind. Abstract equality, not including any specific content, cannot be limited by any limits. Such abstract “nothing” is therefore distinguished by its desire for infinity.
This thought of Kant apparently seemed to Mr. Berdyaev when, comparing the ethics of extreme teachings with the ethics of liberalism, he places the second above the first. “Liberalism in its ideal essence,” he says in a note, “sets goals: the development of the individual, the implementation of natural law, freedom and equality; socialism only opens up new ways for more consistent implementation of these principles.” “The struggle for sociality, that is, for a form of social cooperation, is always subordinated to the struggle for humanity” 932. Based on all these considerations, liberalism appears to be the highest ethical doctrine.
The philosophy of natural law is in close and inextricable connection with the above-mentioned provisions of “philosophical idealism”. The fourth idealist, Mr. Novgorodtsev, is engaged in the presentation of this subject. This writer welcomes with enthusiasm the revival of natural law. Entirely adopting Stammler's point of view, he develops primarily the views of this Kantian. Let us briefly characterize his point of view.
Stammler is a complete and not at all original follower of Kant's philosophy of law. His main idea is that the idea of law cannot arise empirically within the actual historical process. The proof of this impossibility should be the fact that the comparison and evaluation of different legal norms presupposes a constant scale with the help of which social forms that are in continuous change are compared and evaluated. Always preceding experience, this scale cannot arise within it. It is, therefore, given a priori before any experience. Taking the a priori form of law as a unit of measurement of its relatively changing content, Stammler believes that he thus connected developing social forms, subject to constant change, with an eternal, a priori norm of justice, in accordance with which all social transformations are carried out.
This a priori form of justice, which serves only as a guiding principle in assessing historical reality, cannot be realized in itself. Having stood on this aprioristic, otherworldly, super-experienced soil, Mr. Novgorodtsev talks about achieving the ideal of justice in this way: “When our consciousness turns to the future, it expects not any forms, but ideal and better ones. It can sometimes clearly see that there is no support for these expectations in reality, then it renounces that future and the present and expects that the aspirations, in the words of Plato, will be realized, if not here, then in some other country” 933. From these languid melancholy lines, in which a very artificial note sounds, it follows that Mr. Novgorodtsev expects the implementation of fair social forms in “another country,” that is, to put it more clearly, in the next world.
But our idealists, raising sad glances to heaven, do not for one minute forget the sinful and imperfect earth, where the morally obligatory commands us to recognize the “Dionysian principle” and “live to the fullest,” at least with our evil, if not with our good. Having slightly dreamed of the delights of eternal and unshakable justice awaiting us beyond the grave, Mr. Novgorodtsev demands for now “the victory of egalitarian freedom over the regime of monopoly and arbitrariness” 934. The victory of “egalitarian freedom” must be achieved in the spirit and according to the principles of natural law, which upholds individual freedom. Natural law, having metaphysical formal justice as its starting point, comes down to legal equality before the law, expressing the substantial equality of people. But in its pursuit of abstract equality, legal freedom, built on natural law, requires a guarantee of those individual privileges that are based on innate advantages.
Therefore, natural law, beginning with the substantial equality of people, ends only with the advantages of the individual.
Mr. Novgorodtsev, having adopted the point of view of the philosophy of natural rights, naturally returned to the views of the enlighteners of the 18th century. The revival of natural law returns us, in the opinion of this idealist, to faith in the free creativity of the individual and in the power of reason in the legislative field, in a word, it returns us to faith “in all those words and slogans that constituted the sacred credo of the educational philosophy of the 18th century.”
But the demand for a guarantee of inherent advantages in the legal sense and complete freedom of personal creativity in the sphere of legislation cannot have any other basis than limiting the participation of the masses in government. This practical conclusion, arising from natural law, is made by Mr. Berdyaev. “The natural right of an individual,” he says, “can no longer be assessed in terms of social benefit, social well-being, social adaptation, etc. It is an absolute value.” So, natural law, guided by the absolute intrinsic value of the sacred innate rights of the individual, should not be subject to any social restrictions bearing in mind public well-being, etc. Therefore, Mr. Berdyaev concludes his reasoning about natural law: “We deny the ethical and legal principle of popular sovereignty.”
These are the political conclusions of “philosophical idealism.” Let us now briefly present the general course of thought of the “idealists”, and we will get the following picture.
Moral obligation consists in an absolute, substantial contradiction with what actually exists. Without flowing from experience, the morally obligatory is a product of pure moral consciousness, the source of which is the super-experienced moral world order, ultimately established from above. Moral obligation thus constitutes the divine element in man and must therefore be considered as absolute self-activity. Based on all this, the “man-god” or “god-man” does not have the slightest moral right to sacrifice himself, that is, his deity, for the benefit of his neighbor or society. Further, for reasons of the same divine nature, the same “man-god” or “god-man” should not be limited by any social bonds, and from this it follows that it is necessary to limit popular sovereignty. It is not difficult to see that from all this scholasticism follows the simple practical conclusion that the god of “philosophical idealism” stands a priori against direct suffrage.
We will see how valid the views of the “god-men” are in the critical part of this article, and now we consider it worthwhile to make the following comments.
When presenting the so-called philosophical principles of “Problems of Idealism,” we adhered to the main, guiding articles devoted exclusively to the fundamental formulation of ethical problems. We did not touch on the remaining articles in this collection for the reason that their authors fully share the general worldview of Messrs. Bulgakov, Berdyaev, Frank and Novgorodtsev and carry out the same general views in their works. Minor, non-fundamental disagreements between authors are of no importance to us; in the same way, we are not at all interested in the contradictions encountered among individual authors, which arise not from the incorrectness of their worldview, but from their individual inconsistency. In short, we were mainly concerned with the basic principles of this book and the practical conclusions flowing from them. We hope that we have outlined the essence of “Problems of Idealism” in this sense in a completely exhaustive manner.
If Problems of Idealism had appeared several years ago, they would not have attracted serious attention. Representing absolutely nothing interesting from a scientific point of view, not distinguished by either independence of thought or originality in the formulation of questions, and, finally, expressing the most moderate, modest and timid liberalism in the sense of political direction, this book would pass unnoticed, just as many books pass unnoticed, distinguished by superficial content that does not touch either the feelings or the mind. At best, this work would have caused several angry and caustic ridicule in the radical press about the piety, artificial religious pathos and sudden deism of its authors.
Russian advanced literature, which preserved the traditions of Belinsky 936, Chernyshevsky, Dobrolyubov and Pisarev, was thoroughly imbued with atheism. She knew well that unctuousness is a bad and very unreliable ally on the path to progress, that it played a very immoral and very ugly role in all those historical events, the totality of which could form a multi-volume work entitled: “The History of Great Crimes.” She knew, finally, that unctuousness always patronized the rich, forgave them their sins even for money, and that she treated the poor like a real serf-owner, demanding from them endless labor and uncomplaining patience. But everything changes, everything flows. The creator of dialectics was obviously right when he argued that one cannot step into the same river twice 937. The trend in advanced Russian literature has also changed. Almost all outstanding Russian magazines generally reacted kindly and condescendingly to the pious book being examined. Not a good sign.
Obviously, the assertion of the “idealists” that mysticism is an expression of spiritual need is, in fact, not without some basis. And this spiritual need may have all the more basis because the God of the “idealists” requires restrictions on popular sovereignty.
The central point of "Problems of Idealism" is Kant's dualism, based, as we have seen, on the opposition between moral finality and mechanical causality, the world of noumena, phenomena, or, in theological language, between God and the world. According to this dualism, the identity of the subjective and objective, consciousness and being, ideal and reality remains on the other side of this world and does not exist in knowledge, but only as an object of faith. The root basis of this dualism, therefore, comes down to faith in super-experiential finality and, in the last resort, to faith in God, who consciously predetermined the absolute, final world goal.
It is clear that the criticism of dualism should be focused primarily on super-experiential teleology, the defenders of which are the authors of Problems of Idealism. Mr. Bulgakov, in his justification of the need for faith, begins with a categorical statement about the limitations of the human mind. Faith alone, he thinks, is capable of giving a holistic, complete worldview. Faith is “a way of knowing without evidence.” According to such a view, Mr. Bulgakov should have immediately abandoned all discussions about the unprovenness of faith and indulged exclusively in the inner contemplation of his own soul, in which the mystic usually discovers one treasure after another. And we, in turn, would only remind the reader of the well-known philosophical aphorism: “Contra principia negantes non est disputandum” 938. But the representatives of mysticism have never been distinguished by their consistency. Having refused to recognize the competence of reason, the mystic then begins, as if nothing had happened, to ardently, and sometimes angrily, prove the validity of his unproven faith.
It is obvious that the advantages of man over animals cannot be eliminated by any effort. Mr. Bulgakov’s first and main argument in favor of unproven faith should be the fact that a person is not satisfied with the area of positive knowledge that answers the question “how” phenomena occur, but requires an answer mainly to the questions “why” and “why” do they happen? Questions about the origin and final purpose of existence constitute, according to Mr. Bulgakov, the fundamental need of the human spirit and at the same time indicate that the universe was created according to a predetermined plan and conceals a conscious final goal. Consequently, only the recognition of a rational principle and the final goal corresponding to it can satisfy the philosophical need and give a holistic, complete worldview. To answer such an argument, it is enough to take the point of view of Bulgakov himself and ask, in turn: why should the need for a holistic and complete worldview be satisfied by deism?
From the point of view of the need for a complete worldview, one can say about the supreme principle the same thing that Schopenhauer said about the first reason: such a beginning is not a cab in which you can get to a certain place, pay, and be done with it. It is not difficult, therefore, to notice that the question of the origin and final goal of the universe can be continued on the same logical basis ad infinitum, since one only has to ask again: “Where does the origin come from and why is the final world goal?” - and this abstract, meaningless question cannot be stopped for the reason that every answer to it evokes it again.
Therefore, even if we take the point of view of Mr. Bulgakov and proceed, like all mystics and the worst quality of metaphysics, from a purely subjective need for a holistic worldview, then in this case it will be necessary to reject the narrow and limited idea of the beginning and final goal of the universe and recognize a mechanical worldview.
The mechanical worldview, which constitutes the basic essence of materialism, differs from idealism, mainly in that it completely rejects the conscious creative principle and the final goal that coincides with it, in other words, that it does not recognize the act of creation, to which, according to Engels’s fair remark, any kind of idealism must inevitably lead, proceeding, one way or another, from super-experiential purposiveness and therefore presupposing an extra-worldly, otherworldly mind.
It is not the desire of the intellect for a complete worldview that causes the idea of the initial act of creation of the world and its ultimate goals, but, on the contrary, the stop of this desire, the logical pause and fatigue of speculative activity are the mental conditions of such an essentially limited idea.
An indication of the purely subjective motives of a concept throws some light on the question, but such an indication in itself cannot be proof of the correctness or incorrectness of a given concept. In order, therefore, to subject super-experimental expediency to scientific criticism, it is necessary to find real, objective reasons under the influence of which such an idea arose.
This difficult and serious problem was resolved by Spinoza in his system, the center of gravity of which is the complete resolution of super-experiential expediency, the denial of God and the substantiation of a mechanical worldview. The size of the article does not allow us, unfortunately, to enter into a detailed consideration of the philosophy of this great and consistent thinker. But we will cite here in its entirety the passage from the Ethics that directly points to the objective reasons for the emergence of super-experiential purposiveness. Spinoza says: “Since in themselves and around them they (people) noticed many means that greatly contributed to the achievement of their benefit, such as, for example, eyes for vision, teeth for chewing, plants and animals for food, the sun for light, the sea for feeding fish, etc., they began as a result to consider everything in nature as a means intended for their benefit. The knowledge that these means were discovered by them, and not invented, led to the belief in the existence of someone else who created these means for their benefit.
Once they looked at the objects of nature in this way as means, they could no longer allow their independent emergence. Secondly, from the fact that they themselves prepared the means (means of subsistence - Author), they must have concluded the existence of one or more rulers of nature, endowed with human freedom, who took care of everything for people and created everything for their benefit. Knowing nothing actually about such rulers, they had to judge them according to their own way of thinking. Hence the assertion that the gods direct everything in favor of people so that people are obliged to them and treat them with high respect. In this way, this prejudice grew to the point of superstition and took deep roots in the minds. This circumstance is the reason that prompted people to direct all their efforts to know and explain the ultimate goals of all things. But in its desire to prove that nature does not produce anything superfluous (i.e.
nothing that would not be of benefit to man), they, it seems to me, did not show anything else, except perhaps that nature, together with the gods, is just as extravagant as people. Let us see, however, where this state of affairs should ultimately lead. Among the many useful things in nature, they had to notice a lot of harmful things: hurricanes, earthquakes, diseases, etc. And they explained these phenomena by the anger of the gods for the insults caused to them and the sins committed while serving the gods. Despite the fact that experience contradicted these ideas and proved with numerous examples that the pious, just like the ungodly, befalls something useful and sometimes harmful, they still did not abandon their ingrained prejudice. And this is because it was easier for them to attribute this inexplicable phenomenon to other inexplicable, from the point of view of human benefit, phenomena and thus remain stuck in their actual state of ignorance, rather than destroy the entire building and build a new one.
As a result of all this, it became clear to them that the intentions of the gods far exceeded the powers of human understanding. This was, of course, enough for the truth to forever remain alien to the human race” 939.
Spinoza, as the reader sees, gives a historical-materialist explanation for the emergence of super-experiential purposiveness and the deism associated with this idea. The positions expressed in the quotation we cited are so serious and important that, despite the complete clarity with which they are expressed by the philosopher himself, we consider it necessary to briefly formulate them and emphasize them once again. The idea of super-experiential purposiveness or – which is the same thing – the idea of the existence of an otherworldly moral world order arose, according to Spinoza’s explanation, 1) due to the fact that man has organs that serve him as tools in the struggle for existence; 2) due to the fact that he finds ready-made means in the surrounding external nature; 3) due to the fact that he himself is capable of producing means of subsistence. Thus, the ready-made means given by nature, on the one hand, and man’s ability to prepare them, on the other, served as the main reason for the idea of the existence of a conscious creator who created natural objects according to a predetermined plan.
But the complete and obvious impossibility of explaining all natural phenomena from this narrow, anthropocentric point of view further served as the main reason for the idea of the unknowability of the goals and intentions of Providence. From here, therefore, arose, according to Spinoza, the idea of an otherworldly, intelligible moral world order, which cannot be an object of knowledge, but only an object of faith. The idea of a supersensible, unknowable world of conscious moral goals, which constitutes the essence of idealism, arose and developed historically, on the basis of the struggle for existence. The objective basis of this struggle is material means 940.
Thus, the idea of two different and opposite worlds is not the result of a supernatural revelation or, what is the same thing, an innate idea, but originated and grew in this same world. In the right opinion of the thinker, what is innate in man is only ignorance.
The “dogmatist” Spinoza used an incomparably more critical method in his analysis of the supersensible world than the founder of criticism, Kant. The first is looking for a real objective reason that gave rise to the idea of a super-experienced world, and, having found it, on this side, in the world of experience, he reveals the entire inconsistency of the dualistic worldview and comes to the unity of the universe. The second takes super-experiential ideas (God, freedom and immortality) as empty forms of pure reason, to which nothing real corresponds in experience.
Deprived of corresponding real content in the world of sensory experience, they, according to the limited competence of theoretical reason, cannot be theoretically substantiated, but, on the other hand, their fundamental opposition to experience also makes their scientific refutation impossible. The supersensible world therefore remains an object of faith, that is, the assumption that the ideas of pure reason correspond to a real existence on the other side of our experience. Spinoza refutes the existence of the supersensible world in a critical way, because he looks for the historical reasons under the influence of which it arose in our consciousness. Kant, on the contrary, approaches this problem in the full sense of dogmatism, since he declares super-experiential ideas, although devoid of content, but ready-made and eternal forms of pure reason, without asking about their real historical origin. Spinoza's system had almost no influence in Germany when Kant was working on his critical philosophy.
And Kant, who, as we know, was very new to “pre-Kantian” philosophy, did not pay any attention to Spinoza’s monistic system. Otherwise, Spinoza’s consistently carried out mechanical worldview should have forced Kant to reckon with this monistic worldview when he settled on dualism, recognizing the dominance of mechanical causality in the sphere of phenomena, that is, in the world of sensory experience, and the dominance of expediency in the super-experiential world of things in themselves. But Kant could be forgiven for ignoring Spinoza's philosophy. First, the father of criticism was busy constructing his own edifice; secondly, Spinoza was then treated as a “dead dog.” Now the mechanical worldview has achieved sufficient influence and dominance to be taken seriously when it comes to the revival of dualism. True, Mr.
Bulgakov touched upon this worldview in passing (not mentioning, as we have already noticed, Spinoza, but Holbach), but touched upon it more artificially with a heart warmed by faith than with “discursive” thinking, which was not entirely pleasant to this author. The mechanical worldview, he says, is one of the most contradictory and unsatisfactory metaphysical systems, because it leaves a number of facts of our consciousness unexplained and a whole series of persistent questions unanswered.
“Even the most pessimistic systems pale before the chilling horror of this view” 941. Why exactly the mechanical worldview is the “most” contradictory worldview, and what facts of consciousness it is not able to explain, we do not learn either from Mr. Bulgakov’s article or from the articles in the entire collection.
The entire campaign against the mechanical worldview is limited to a single general point with the following content: “But it is curious,” says Mr. Bulgakov, “that mechanical philosophy is unable to fully sustain the consistent development of its principles, and ends up trying to fit teleology into its framework, to recognize the ultimate triumph of reason over irrational causality.” “This flight from one’s own philosophical principles is expressed in a tacit or open recognition of the fact that at a certain stage of world development this very causality creates the human mind, which then begins to organize the world in accordance with its own goals. This victory of reason over the irrational principle does not occur immediately, but gradually, and the collective mind of people united in society encourages more and more dead nature, learning to use it for their own purposes; Thus, the dead mechanism gradually gives way to rational expediency, its complete opposite.
You have already learned that I am talking about the theory of progress, which forms a necessary part of all the teachings of the modern mechanical worldview” 942.
Mr. Bulgakov imagines that he pointed out a double contradiction in the mechanical worldview. The first, of a general philosophical nature, should, as can be seen from the extract, consist in the fact that, rejecting super-experimental teleology, the mechanical worldview recognizes at a certain stage of development the emergence of a person gifted with consciousness, setting reasonable goals. The second, of a philosophical and historical nature, lies, in the opinion of Mr. Bulgakov, in the fundamental opposition between the causally determined historical course of development and the subjective, purposeful influence on the historical process. By pointing out the first contradiction Mr.
Bulgakov repeats the old well-known question of all theological critics of materialism, namely: “How do you, supposedly, materialists explain the emergence of consciousness, since you reject an intelligent creator?” To this question, which at the same time is also an objection, the materialist teaching has always answered that it does not attempt to explain the origin of consciousness in its metaphysical sense, but that the unsolvability of this question, in the sense of the final causes of everything that exists, does not in the least prevent us from cognizing the laws of consciousness, its real content, the conditions of its development and its connection with material processes, both internal and external 943 . Mr. Bulgakov further sees the inconsistency of materialism in its “tacit” or “open” recognition of the fact that at a certain stage of world development this very causality creates the human mind, which begins to “arrange the world.” We can object to this Mr.
Bulgakov that materialism “openly” recognizes the fact of the appearance of people gifted with consciousness, on the simple and obvious basis that people gifted with consciousness are “visible things” and that their appearance at a certain stage of world development is explained by scientific experience.
In a word, the fundamental difference between “consistent” idealism and “contradictory” materialist doctrine boils down again to the fact that materialism, taking experience as its point of departure, explains the real world by its inherent internal law, which is what mechanical causality means, while idealism, which does not want to take this point of view, inevitably comes to supernatural forces, i.e., to super-experiential finality, which, in spite of idealism, correctly expresses theology, at least in the formulation of the apostle. Paul, to which Mr. Bulgakov refers: “Faith is a way of knowledge without evidence, the notification of hoped-for things, the revelation of invisible things.”
As for another alleged contradiction between historical causality and expediency or, what is the same thing, between historical necessity and freedom, this objection was first put forward in our country by Russian subjective sociologists in their campaign against the materialist understanding of history. But all the arguments of the subjectivists were followed, as we know, by a serious and detailed response from Beltov 944 .
If Beltov’s argumentation did not satisfy Mr. Bulgakov, then he should have discovered the reason for such dissatisfaction, that is, criticized the provisions of this author, and not repeated the hackneyed objections of Russian subjectivists in their old, worn-out form.
We, therefore, have no need to dwell on this issue, and we refer anyone who may be confused by Mr. Bulgakov’s objection to Beltov’s book 945.
All of Mr. Bulgakov’s dissatisfaction with the mechanical worldview ultimately boils down to the fact that this view is devoid of a criterion for progress, since from the point of view of mechanical causality one series of phenomena is no different from another. Consequently, the preference that we give to one set of phenomena over another cannot have any other source than divine revelation. This strange and truly absurd reasoning is being repeated at the present time by many idealists, which is why it, of course, does not lose any of its absurdity.
The pathological process of the body, for example, occurs from the point of view of causality as naturally, i.e., as necessary, as its physiological functions are necessarily performed.
The question now is, on what basis do we prefer the normal state of the body to the pathological one, in other words, where is the criterion for our assessment of these two identical, from the point of view of causality, states? Mr. Bulgakov believes that this assessment cannot have any other source other than revelation from above, and we, materialists, think that the healthy state of the body is better and is considered more expedient by us for the simple, trivial reason that it forms the basis of our self-preservation. The same explanation applies entirely to the historical process. We consider everything that contributes to the self-preservation of both the individual and society to be a progressive trend; everything that delays and serves as an obstacle to such self-preservation is a regressive trend, despite the fact that both occur according to necessary laws from the point of view of causality.
Further, in his irresistible desire to contrast the need to recognize the Supreme Powers with a mechanical worldview, Mr. Bulgakov builds, as we have seen, a lot on the mental need for religion. This need is elevated by this author, like many modern decadents, to the level of the main, distinctive quality of a person and even a superman.
The idealist philosopher, to whom Mr. Bulgakov has a greater passion, reasoned about this high quality: “If the main quality of a person were feeling, then a person would be no different from an animal, since the peculiarity of an animal lies precisely in the fact that its essence is the feeling according to which it lives. If man's beliefs were based only on feeling, which as such can be a feeling of dependence, then the dog would be the best believer, since he is most capable of this feeling and lives mainly by it. Likewise, the feeling of redemption is inherent in a dog when its hunger is satisfied with a bone” 946. It is also extremely interesting that Mr. Bulgakov’s thoughtful argument in favor of metaphysics and religion is that even those philosophical systems that challenge these disciplines recognize their legitimacy by the very fact of their negative attitude towards them. It follows from this that an atheist, who, for example, has a negative attitude towards the existence of God, recognizes this existence in his denial.
This argument is very dangerous, mainly because a huge number of readers who do not have the slightest idea about a single philosophical problem will be delighted with the philosophical profundity of Mr. Bulgakov on the natural basis that they themselves thought exactly the same.
From this thought of Mr. Bulgakov, one can, for example, conclude that Darwin recognized the creation of man when he proved the origin of man through natural and sexual selection. Darwin, who disputed the creation of man, did not recognize creation, but the existence of such a false concept. In the same way, a philosophical system or an atheist who denies the existence of God recognizes not this existence, but the existence of a delusion about the existence of God.
With this we will finish the criticism of the so-called philosophical premises of “Problems of Idealism”, which found their most striking expression in Mr. Bulgakov’s general philosophical article, and at the end of this chapter we will say a few words about those objections of the same “idealist” that are directed against social science.
In the social field, no predictions are possible due to the lack of repeatability of phenomena. This property of historical and social discipline distinguishes them, according to Mr. Bulgakov, from natural science, where laws are derived on the basis of the repeatability of natural phenomena.
Mr. Bulgakov borrowed this stereotyped and very superficial argument from Mr. Kareev and felt special respect for him under the influence of Rickert.
There are many objections to this purely external argument, which were made by representatives of various directions in sociology and philosophy of history. But we will present Wundt’s objection, since it fully answers the question posed by Mr. Bulgakov. “This formal attribute (the repeatability of phenomena in the field of nature and their uniqueness in the field of history. - Ort.) is incorrect from a double point of view. First, it is completely false that singular phenomena (das singulare) play no role in the natural sciences. For example, almost all geology consists of single facts; nevertheless, no one will argue that the study of the Ice Age, simply because it, in all likelihood, existed only once, does not belong to natural science, but should be left to the historian for dreamy contemplation. Secondly, it is also completely false that phenomena do not repeat themselves in history.
Since Polybius 947, historians, since they were not chroniclers, have rarely missed an opportunity so as not to point out simultaneous events and similar series of phenomena that took place at different times and which have the same internal connection. Historians have used such historical parallels to draw well-known conclusions” 948.
It is convincingly shown here that methodologically there is no fundamental difference between the natural and social sciences. Historical and sociological experience can be established by comparing the corresponding periods of different states (for example, feudalism in England and France, the English and French revolutions); and one can also compare and examine different periods and events of the same social organism (the transition from feudalism to the capitalist mode of production, the great revolution of 1798 and the revolution of 1848 in France), discovering a mutual causal relationship in them and then comparing them and comparing them with the same causally determined series of events in other countries.
Nor does the ingrained prejudice, passed from book to book and repeated by Mr. Bulgakov, stand up to the slightest criticism, as if the study of nature differs from the study of history and sociology “epistemologically”, due to different subjective attitudes to these different areas. This prejudice grew and strengthened on the basis of Kantian dualism, which in its practical application took precisely this form. It would take us too far if we began to examine in detail the question of the relationship of criticism to the natural and social sciences. To engage in such an analysis would mean to reveal and reveal all the inconsistencies of critical philosophy, which would be, first of all, inappropriate in relation to Messrs. idealists who limit themselves and are content with a few stereotyped, categorical and superficial remarks on this issue.
Leaving therefore critical philosophy aside, we note only in passing that precisely from an epistemological point of view, there is no greater absurdity than establishing a distinction between one and another area of cognition. Epistemology, i.e., the basic philosophical premises of knowledge, are considered the main premises precisely because they constitute the general foundation of knowledge in general, without distinguishing areas. The question of subjectivism and objectivism in the epistemological sense can only be posed this way: does regularity belong to the subjective forms of the cognizing subject, or is it inherent in the external, objective world? Whatever the solution to this question, it cannot distinguish between individual disciplines of knowledge. If regularity is inherent exclusively to the cognizing subject, then the laws of nature are nothing more than the objectification of these same subjective forms.
If, on the contrary, the pattern lies in the objective world, then historical and sociological laws must, from an epistemological point of view, have an objective source. It is clear, therefore, that from an epistemological point of view there can be no difference between the natural and social sciences. Leaving epistemology aside, the question of the degree of influence of subjective elements in one or another branch of science is a practical question, having a purely historical nature. Every newly discovered law, every acquired truth, no matter from what area, was established and gained universal recognition through a serious and persistent struggle, passing, so to speak, through a purgatory of subjective relations and layers, which constituted the more serious obstacles, the more serious and fruitful the given law or given truth was.
To assert that the natural sciences are an exception in this sense means either deliberately turning a blind eye to generally known facts, or not knowing them. As for the individual subjective traits and inclinations of the researcher, natural scientists, who, as we know, do not fall from the sky, but grow and develop on earth, in a certain historical situation, can, just like sociologists, begin to study nature with a huge stock of prejudices and all sorts of superstitions.
Even Bacon 949 pointed out those individual-subjective properties and inclinations of the researcher, which can be a serious obstacle to a true, objective knowledge of nature. Analyzing and emphasizing these subjective categories, demanding from the natural scientist that he free himself from them, Bacon shows at the same time how the knowledge of nature, gradually freed from subjective interfering elements, reaches its real, objective essence.
The increasingly stronger superstition in bourgeois ideology that objective research and predictions are possible in natural science, but impossible in sociology, has its external reason for the fact that natural science currently has many generally accepted laws, while the laws and conclusions of social sciences are the subject of passionate and bitter debate. But this difference is not of a fundamental nature, but of an exclusively historical nature. There is almost not a single law of truth known to us, there is almost not a single significant truth that would not have been subjected in its time to the same fierce attacks as Marx’s teaching on value, on the class struggle and all the conclusions of scientific Marxism are subjected to in our time.
The possibility of the free and unhindered development of natural science in our time is determined by the fact that knowledge of nature and victory over it are necessary and beneficial to the bourgeois classes, while an objective, serious and impartial understanding of social relations is becoming more and more threatening to the modern social system.
And exactly the same acute, critical moment was experienced by natural science, when it became a powerful weapon against the social order of the Middle Ages.
Expressing the class interests of the clergy, animated by spiritualistic philosophy, the Inquisition (the materialists never created such an “ethical” institution) burned Giordano Bruno for his preaching and completion of the Copernican system 950 26 . Modern ideologists of the privileged classes, who recognize the movement of the earth, have armed themselves with the same spiritualistic philosophy in order to use it to retard the historical movement of humanity forward.
With their passionate attack on the doctrine of the objective laws of the historical process, they provide further proof that the objective course of things is not on their side.
The authors of “Problems of Idealism” made quite correct, logical conclusions from the main provisions of philosophical idealism, when they ultimately came to extreme egoism.
If the opponent of idealist philosophy had clearly shown how a complete and decisive denial of altruism follows from this worldview, he could safely consider his task of criticizing idealist ethics complete and brilliantly accomplished.
It was worth, for example, Leibniz, Kant, Fichte to prove that in their worldview lies the possibility of denying love for one’s neighbor, sacrifice for the benefit of society, that their super-experienced ethics strictly condemns all the heroes and martyrs who died for the earthly good of humanity, what was it worth, we say, to prove to the great, noble universalist thinkers that their ethics leads to extreme, soulless egoism, “commanding” to live to the fullest, “at least by their evil, if not by their good,” so that they would be in the greatest horror from their teachings and burn with their own hands those of their works from which such misanthropy can be derived. The great idealists, for reasons that are not the place to analyze here, could not in their time see all the conclusions that flowed from their systems and were in conflict with their subjective intentions. And precisely because neither they themselves nor their contemporaries understood this, idealistic systems influenced the entire era not with their negative, but with their positive, not reactionary, but revolutionary sides.
The situation is different with our neo-idealists. As very late epigones, they very deeply felt and, as can be concluded from “Problems of Idealism,” even understood the reactionary elements of idealism. And, having understood them, the epigones not only were not afraid, but, on the contrary, began to preach them with that frank cynicism that is characteristic only of degeneration. But with their frankness they made our work easier.
By bringing their, so to speak, ethics to the point of an unconditional, decisive denial of altruism, the epigones themselves refuted themselves in the most brilliant and most convincing way. Therefore, it is neither possible nor necessary to argue with them about ethics on the merits.
In order to challenge this or that theory, at least some solidarity is necessary in those general, no longer subject to doubt, definitions that have been developed and firmly established by the entire spiritual historical activity of mankind.
Every follower of modern scientific socialism will completely agree with the great idealists that morality consists in altruism, in the ability of the individual to live in the broad interests of all humanity, etc.
Sharing this common formal ground with idealism, the theory of scientific socialism can criticize the idealistic foundations of the ethics of the great idealists, proving that these foundations lead to results opposite to those ideals outlined by the idealists themselves, and that those ideals, being not the result of divine revelation, but a product of social development, can be realized not on the basis of idealism, but in the way indicated by the materialist understanding of history. In a word, the dispute between the materialist understanding of ethics and the idealistic understanding is possible because both directions agree, at least in the general formal definition that ethics consists of altruism.
The epigones “overestimated” all values or, to put it more clearly, confused all the concepts. From their point of view, altruism turned out to be, as we have seen, the most immoral manifestation of the human spirit, and extreme egoism was the highest form of an ethically ideal personality. Having thus solved the ethical problem, the epigones attacked socialism with all the force of their nervousness and fear, as a view that pursues altruistic goals. Not only do we not have to defend ourselves against such a reproach from the “critics,” but, on the contrary, we fully recognize its justice.
Scientific Marxism is truly called upon, on the basis of material historical necessity, through the class struggle of the proletariat, to realize the altruistic ideals that hitherto existed in the abstract.
Having, therefore, no need to criticize the “ethics” of the epigones, we, nevertheless, consider it worthwhile to discover the amazing, absurd confusion that underlies all their reasoning. As we know, the starting point of all the “ethical” constructions of our moralists is the epistemological position that moral obligation consists in a contradiction with actual existence, or, in the language of Mr. Berdyaev, “ethics begins with the opposition of what is and what is proper.” This or approximately this is how the great idealists posed the question. But when the great idealists proceeded from this dualism, they meant that the essence of ethics lies in altruism.
Observing how altruistic actions have manifested themselves in virtually the entire history of mankind, believing, on the other hand, that man, as a being striving for self-preservation, is an egoist by nature, the great idealists wondered about the origin of altruistic elements, which, at first glance, are in complete contradiction with the instinct of self-preservation.
Alien points of view of social development, therefore not being able to explain altruism through historical social evolution, the great idealists transferred the source of altruism to the other side of the real world.
Thus, it is clear that the supposed contradiction between moral obligation and actual being had its starting point in the opposition between altruism and egoism. The great idealists, metaphysicians, consequently arrived at the dualism of ethics and reality only because they took altruism as the basis of ethics.
And we now ask the epigones, where is the contrast between moral obligation and actual being, since egoism turned out to be the only and true form of morality? It is obvious to everyone that with the elimination of altruism, such a contradiction does not appear at all, and therefore it is also obvious that the conclusion to which the epigones came completely destroys their basic epistemological premise about the opposition of moral obligation and actual being.
Therefore, the epigraph to Mr. Berdyaev’s article, borrowed from Kant, looks extremely funny. Mr. Berdyaev solemnly writes on the first page of his ethical treatise the famous words of the Königsberg metaphysician: “Zwei Dinge erfölen das Gemüth mit immer neuer und zunehmen der Bewunderung und Ehrfurcht, ju ufter und anhaltender sich das Nachdenken damit beschäftigt: der bestirnte Himmel uber das moralische Gesetz in mir" 951.
Kant expresses his surprise and admiration for his internal moral law, because he views it as the fundamental opposite of human egoism, which, according to the philosopher’s definition, is based on arbitrariness.
Why is Mr. Berdyaev surprised and bowed before, who considers the “Dionysian principle” to be the moral law of life, that is, boundless egoism, commanding “to live to the fullest” “at least with evil, if not with good”?
Mr. Berdyaev found himself in such a comical situation due to the following circumstance. As we have seen, he knows very well that the categorical imperative, being the absolute opposite of the real world, does not and cannot have any meaning in it and therefore does not oblige anyone to anything specific. From this position he draws the extremely pleasant and always comforting conclusion for a philistine that real ethics and true ideals are not realized on earth. Such a clear understanding of the categorical imperative essentially means nothing more than its complete and final refutation.
Hegel, for example, considered himself a sharp opponent of Kant’s ethics only on the sole grounds that it had nothing in common with reality. An empty, formal moral law that does not contain any empirical rule turns, in the thoughtful opinion of the great dialectician, into its own opposite, that is, into immorality.
But Mr. Berdyaev disagrees with Hegel precisely because he, like his other colleagues in the ideal field, really liked the categorical imperative in its refuted form. And not in vain: - for the categorical imperative rendered the epigones a huge service in the attack on Marxism.
Let us now recall the course of argumentation of our “ethicists,” and the role played by the moral law in “Problems of Idealism” will become quite clear to us.
The categorical imperative, which condemns the desire for earthly goods as an unethical desire, is directed by our “idealists” primarily against scientific socialism, as against a historical movement proceeding from the material interests of the proletariat and striving for a happier life for all humanity on earth. Marxism is condemned with the help of the categorical imperative, therefore, on the grounds that it is based not on asceticism, but on eudaimonism.
But Marxist eudaimonism, which demands earthly goods for everyone, is distinguished, in the completely fair opinion of our moralists, by its altruistic character. As champions of pure ethics, the “idealists” are courageous and consistent; they attack altruism with all the force of their holy wrath as a teaching that proceeds from the same immoral eudaimonism.
But in the process of criticizing the altruistic theory of morality, the “idealists” take an individualist stand, opposing their extreme individualism to altruism. Having arrived at extremely individualistic conclusions, our followers of Kantian rigorism quickly throw out the ascetic element that is no longer suitable for them, that is, the entire essence of the categorical imperative, and thus ultimately arrive at individualistic eudaimonism, which recognizes the “Dionysian principle of life.”
It is obvious, therefore, that the “idealists” arrived at precisely the same eudaimonism that served as their starting point for their attack on scientific socialism and its ethical side, altruism.
But in this cycle, our “idealists” won a lot. Precisely that, having rejected altruism along the way, they came to the pleasant conclusion that eudaimonism is the most moral principle of life, if earthly blessings are not intended for everyone.
The final, general ethical conclusions from “Problems of Idealism” therefore come down to the following two provisions:
Eudaimonism is an immoral doctrine and is strictly condemned by the categorical imperative, since it serves as the starting point of the movement of the world proletariat, demanding earthly welfare for all.
Eudaimonism is a highly moral teaching and is consistent with the categorical imperative, since it is not proletarians who strive for earthly pleasure, but the propertied, who defend earthly good only for themselves.
In short, earthly good is moral when it is enjoyed by the privileged, idle classes; earthly good is immoral when the poor working masses strive for it.
Only now does Mr. Berdyaev’s ethical demand to limit popular sovereignty in the name of individual freedom become clear.
The reader undoubtedly drew attention to such a gross, outright contradiction as the requirement of individual freedom and the restriction of the freedom of the people. But this contradiction is eliminated very successfully with the help of the ethical conclusion that a person should be understood as a member of society who has the right to be a eudaimonist and who is commanded by the moral law to “live to the fullest.” And such a broad moral right is given, as we know, only to those who have property. Consequently, a person who demands for his freedom to limit the freedom of the people is a propertied person, that is, a bourgeois; the divine element of personality, which does not tolerate any restrictions, is the bourgeois’s wallet, and the absolute freedom of this personality is the freedom of the same bourgeois to “tan the hide” of the worker.
This is how our new idealists processed the old plot.
L. Shestov. New magazine 952
(“Questions of Life”, January and February, 1905)
Since October last year, major changes have occurred in the editorial staff of the magazine “New Way” 953. Until that time, it included exclusively persons belonging to the so-called “decadent” direction of our literature: Merezhkovsky, Rozanov, Gippius 954. Accordingly, the employees were selected: Valery Bryusov, Fyodor Sologub 955, Vyacheslav Ivanov, Balmont 956 4, Minsky and others. True, it is only a stretch to unite all these writers into one group. Merezhkovsky, in essence, always wrote for his own sake, Minsky was also on his own, and Rozanov was so little like anyone else that it was generally risky to attach him to a certain group. Apparently, the editors of “New Way” were also aware of this, which is why a special section was created for him in the magazine called “In Your Corner.” There he wrote what he wanted, taking full responsibility for the thoughts he expressed.
There was not much unanimity among the other employees, but nevertheless, joint work turned out to be possible for quite a long time: the magazine existed in this form for about two years, but at the end of last year the editors of “New Way” entered into an alliance with that group of writers who, since the appearance of the sensational collection “Problems of Idealism,” received the name “idealistic.” Its representatives are S. N. Bulgakov and N. A. Berdyaev, well known to the people of Kiev. The New Way demonstrated by this act a great and commendable tolerance of thought. But it turned out that theory is one thing, and practice is another: the union lasted only three months. I don’t know which side turned out to be insufficiently accommodating, but by the end of the year a letter appeared in the newspapers, signed by D. V. Filosofov (former editor of the New Way), 957 S. N. Bulgakov and N. A. Berdyaev, from which the public learned that the New Way was being closed, and the idealists were founding their own organ. It is more likely that the idealists showed intractability.
Already the first issue of the updated “New Way” showed that idealists strive for autocracy. Thus, V.V. Rozanov’s department – “In Your Corner” – disappeared and has not appeared since then, despite the fact that this writer was recognized as having great literary talent through the mouths of new employees of the magazine. Berdyaev calls him “the most interesting, gifted and significant writer of our time,” Volzhsky composes hymns of praise to him over dozens of pages. And yet Rozanov was removed from the New Path and does not appear in Questions of Life. It is clear that the reason here is of a socio-political nature: Rozanov collaborates in Novoye Vremya 958 6, and as long as he is considered a member of this parliament, there can be no question of his right to participate in a magazine edited by idealists. This example immediately shows what kind of changes the newly attracted co-editors began to introduce into the journal. The “New Way” was completely indifferent to socio-political issues.
He gave detailed reports on Religious and Philosophical meetings, but did not have an internal observer, and assigned the department of foreign policy to Valery Bryusov. With the arrival of the idealists, new orders were introduced. Each book of the magazine contains both domestic and foreign reviews, and articles on financial, economic and political issues. And the employees are all those who in former times did not even know the road to the “New Path”: Vodovozov from “Our Life” 959, G. Shtilman from “Son of the Fatherland” 960, etc. Moreover, the editors themselves, Berdyaev and Bulgakov, in their articles constantly touch upon socio-political issues, in general paying them no less, or even more attention, than religious and philosophical issues. I especially emphasize this circumstance in view of the fact that in Russian society the opinion has taken root that interest in philosophy and especially religion excludes the possibility of socio-political interests. This is absolutely a fallacy. True, it sometimes happens that a person, immersed in world problems, completely breaks away from the ground.
But there is no reason to make this a rule and, moreover, no need. For example, at least Vladimir Solovyov. As you know, Vestnik Evropy, a magazine that is extremely sober, positive and least inclined towards metaphysical research, published everything that Solovyov wrote solely out of respect for the socio-political role that the late philosopher played in his time. Now the idealists can serve as an example and proof of the same, as far as they managed to prove themselves in the published books of the magazine.
Unfortunately, in their first programmatic articles they made a big mistake, albeit of a purely external, formal nature. Looking for a word to denote their socio-political direction, they settled on the word liberalism. And they stopped very unsuccessfully. True, if we judge it by its etymological meaning, then this word is at least where, and, perhaps, it could not be more appropriate to the present moment. But no one judges like that. The century-old, dilapidated and moldy “Bulletin of Europe”, and sometimes even “New Time” itself, is associated with the concept of liberalism. After all, Suvorin 961 is, in his own way, liberal-minded! So, instead of defining itself in one word, the magazine only hid its true direction. Long explanations were required, which would have turned out to be completely unnecessary if the renewed “New Way” had not decided to drag out the worn-out word into the light of God.
It is curious that to designate its philosophical direction, the magazine also chose a highly vague and therefore meaningless word that requires extensive explanation: idealism.
What cannot be called idealism! In ordinary colloquial language, an idealist is a good person who values his good name more than all other worldly blessings. In the same colloquial usage, an idealist is a short-sighted but simple-minded optimist who always believes in the fulfillment of unrealistic hopes. In philosophical language, the meaning of this word is even less definite: Plato, Berkeley 962, and Kant were idealists, and each in his own way. In general, if you want certainty, you need to avoid old words that have been in use for a long time. Bulgakov and Berdyaev did the opposite, and this gave rise to many misunderstandings. Their political program is extremely definite and clear: the attentive reader immediately sees that it has little in common with Russian and Western European liberalism, which expresses the political credo of the bourgeoisie.
Berdyaev says directly: “...we are now inspired not by a certain social and state system, historically limited and, in fact, bourgeois, but by the inalienable rights of the individual, which constitute absolute supra-class and supra-historical benefits. And we ardently defend the unity of our social movement, we think that the deepest social furrows cannot destroy this unity before the common task. I don’t think that this objective unity could correspond to subjective unity, no, that would be a utopian dream, but conscious historical cooperation is in any case possible and it should be, since life is stronger than doctrines. This is one side of the issue that gives rise to talk about our “betrayal”. But there is another side. We do not forget for one second that betrayal can really happen, and the currently progressive social forces are fraught with it. Our allies today will be our enemies tomorrow.
We know which side we must take, and we have not betrayed the covenants that we held during the era of our Marxism.” From the above words it is clear that the “evolution” of Berdyaev’s philosophical worldview did not at all affect his special political convictions. Having freed himself from Marx's theoretical materialism, he completely retained his practical program. The same, and with even greater right, we can say about Bulgakov. In his person - I say this without the slightest hesitation - we have the greatest literary and political talent of our time, and I absolutely cannot explain to myself the strange circumstance that until now his talent has not found its deserved appreciation. Just remember his preface to the book “From Marxism to Idealism.” It was written back when our press spoke only with half-hearted hints and conventional Aesopian language - and at that time of general silence, Bulgakov, regardless of the conditions of the regime of the late V.K.
Plehve, in the most daring terms, set forth not only a program of hopes, but also a program of action for Russian society - a program to the implementation of which the best Russian people are now devoting all their strength. Then for some reason that article went unnoticed - perhaps because it could not be talked about, that it could not even be quoted. In the last (February) book of “Questions of Life” his passionate, bold and eloquent article appeared again, the final lines of which are filled with such sincere and exciting pathos that they could positively serve as a slogan for our intelligentsia 963.
I could give many quotes and examples from the articles of Questions of Life, from which the reader would be convinced that the new magazine fully understands the needs of the historical moment and stands at the height of the modern task. But in a newspaper article you need to count the lines, and I still have to talk about the philosophical program of “Questions of Life.” I will only point out the articles of V.V. Vodovozov, G. Shtilman, Yasnopolsky and others. In them, for various particular reasons, the ideas expressed in the programmatic articles of Bulgakov and Berdyaev are developed. True, sometimes even now books are published without an internal review or other relevant department. But such is the fate of Russian publications. Due to “independent circumstances,” our readers often have to settle for a short full house instead of a long article. Once upon a time, even that was not the case: articles did not appear, and no one even knew that they had been written!
If in socio-political issues the magazine is an example of complete unanimity, then the same cannot be said regarding its philosophical program. And that's okay. Philosophy does not and cannot have a strictly defined program. Our only philosophical journal, “Questions of Philosophy and Psychology,” declared from the very beginning of its existence that it would publish articles of all kinds on its pages. And this is not only because we in Russia have few philosophical forces and there is nothing to select from, but because philosophy - I don’t know how to say it anymore - is such a happy or unhappy science that “searches” in it do not go any further. The more educated and thoughtful a philosopher is, the more inclined he is to the broadest tolerance. He knows that the final truth has, until now at least, been beyond mortal vision. Therefore, although he obtains his beliefs, he knows that they cannot claim obligatory significance.
In “Questions of Life” this is understood, and therefore the tasks of philosophy are outlined there in fairly general terms. True, we find there some indications indicating that the magazine still does not intend to give shelter to representatives of all philosophical trends. We see a limitation in the words of Bulgakov, who rather categorically states that, in his opinion, “philosophy is an idealistic philosophy.” Whether he is right or wrong, I find this statement premature, not to mention the fact that it suffers from great uncertainty. What is idealistic philosophy? Even if we do not find fault with words (although in this case it would be permissible, because theoretical philosophy requires precision in terminology) and by idealistic philosophy we mean all directions fighting positivism, then even then it is impossible to find justification for the limitation set by Bulgakov. For is it possible to say with certainty that positivism has already been defeated, that it will ever be completely destroyed?
A person may, due to personal tastes and inclinations, be a metaphysician, even a mystic - but the more he gravitates towards otherworldly regions, the more strongly he should feel the binding weight of earthly shackles, i.e. positivism. You cannot brush off or deny the weight: you need to lift it and throw it off. Therefore, a philosophical journal that sincerely strives to solve world problems must be especially attentive to positivism and in this regard take an example not from German professors, but from great Russian artists. Pushkin, Gogol, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Chekhov took positivism into account and, thanks to this, they managed to create their own school, which even our former teachers are not ashamed to undergo today. It would be desirable if the behests of our great artists were transferred to philosophy, so that philosophy would not limit its field of view forward to the point of view of the “ideal.” Who knows for sure where the truth is and how it is obtained?
Every conscientious, sincere and courageous seeker, no matter what direction he belongs to, should be a welcome guest in a philosophical journal. Therefore, while we deplore some of the restrictions made by the idealists, we welcome their nevertheless broad and tolerant program. It’s even good that the founders of the magazine, Bulgakov and Berdyaev, cannot be called like-minded people in the sense that is usually given to this word. In essence, both of these writers, both in their character and in the tasks they set for themselves, are very different from each other. Bulgakov is first and foremost a preacher, and therefore a moralist. It seems to him that through intuition and revelation he has come to know the truth and that now all he can do is introduce others to this truth. Therefore, in his soul there lives a certain instinctive aversion, I would even say fear of research, search - after all, any search threatens to destroy the established conviction, to shake a strong faith. And without faith you cannot teach people.
Bulgakov, despite his evolution from Marxism to idealism, essentially showed great mental stability. If you take a closer look, he was an idealist already at the time when he considered himself a Marxist. He pronounced Marxist words in the same tone in which he now pronounces idealistic ones. And on the other hand, at the present time, when in his judgments he is trying to get into mystical areas inaccessible to reason, he has not lost confidence in logic and is looking for evidence. This is understandable: evidence is a means of persuasion and a powerful one, which a preacher cannot neglect under any circumstances. Further, with all his wanderings through different theories, Bulgakov did not waste his moral baggage. Now, as an idealist, he continues to love and hate what he loved and hated when he was a Marxist - not counting only theoretical materialism.
In a word, Bulgakov’s nature is stable, conservative, puritanical, afraid and avoiding crises and changes, seeking support in constant reason, and not in changeable experience, this determines the nature of his philosophy. However, the same cannot be said about Berdyaev. His “evolution” was not only apparent. If you like, it’s quite the opposite: he has evolved much more than is noticeable from a superficial reading of his articles. Apparently, he artificially restrains himself, holds back, as if afraid to say more than necessary. When you read him, it seems that he is saying not what he thinks now, but what he thought before. Therefore, when you turn the pages of his articles, you keep expecting unexpected surprises. It all seems that he is about to declare: “I have long since moved away from the point of view that I held at that time” (his own words in “Problems of Idealism”). In view of his clearly aware inconsistency of his beliefs, he cares little about giving unity to his judgments, and logical contradictions, equally clear to him and to others, are replete with his works.
With a careless hand he sometimes smoothes them out, but he has no patience and no desire to dwell on this boring task for too long. He doesn’t care whether they agree with him or not, he never proves anything, he always decree, apparently fully sharing Schopenhauer’s opinion that evidence is needed only by those who want to argue... And then, how little Berdyaev’s literary tastes resemble Bulgakov. Bulgakov always remembers Vl. Solovyov and, apparently, considers one of his main tasks to be the dissemination of the teachings of the late philosopher. Berdyaev loves and often quotes Nietzsche, Maeterlinck, Baudelaire, Verlaine 964 - even V.V. Rozanov, as already indicated. Bulgakov is inclined to theological, church terminology. Berdyaev remains with a secular philosophical dictionary, which frightens the general public with the abundance of little-known foreign words. In general, the participation of two people who are so little similar to each other significantly expands the publication’s program. In “Questions of Life” secular and spiritual philosophy will have (and already have) their representatives.
On the pages of the new magazine, the reader will encounter both faith and doubt. The five books that have already been published (three “New Ways” and two “Questions of Life”) represent quite diverse and interesting material and will certainly be appreciated by the reader who is looking for food for thought in books rather than ready-made convictions. The contributors freely express their views: it is clear that they are not burdened by the annoying hand of an editor, smoothing out individual differences. It is clear, for example, that Bulgakov does not share Volzhsky’s judgments about Rozanov’s mystical pantheism, and yet the article is published. True, while fully approving of the freedom granted to employees by the editors, in particular regarding Volzhsky, it might be appropriate to express a desire for editorial intervention, which could be very useful for the young writer.
Volzhsky has one big drawback; tendency to verbosity. His articles could have been cut in half - and they would have benefited, and benefited a lot. And here the editor could act in the legitimate role of a literary educator of the younger generation. There is no need to force, act with scissors. In such cases, friendly advice is enough.
Among other articles, we point out S. Askoldov’s article 965 “On Romanticism.” Askoldov understands romanticism in the sense of the desire for mystical knowledge. You can, of course, disagree with him in his definition - I personally think that it would be better not to pour new wine into old wineskins - but this does not matter. The interest of the article is that the author managed to process the mystical material according to all the rules of modern scientific methodology. This is a mystery. A priori, it would seem that in the field of mysticism the methods should be unique. But Askoldov does not forget Mill's logic 966 for a minute. And, in general, it must be said that the tendency of the new journal is, if possible, not to break with old research methods. It was expressed with full force even in a letter from Prince Trubetskoy 967. Whether the idealists will be able to maintain their position in the future, I cannot say. And why make a wish? Let them do their job, and then we’ll see.
The fiction in the new magazine is no worse than in other monthly magazines. The large historical novel by Merezhkovsky 968 ends with the printing (new subscribers will receive the entire novel in the form of an appendix in Pirozhkov’s edition 969), which I will not talk about, due to the fact that the author is quite well known to the reading public, short stories by young writers are being published, often bearing the stamp of undoubted talent.
L. Shestov. Literary Secession 970
(“Questions of Life”, January-June)
The new magazine “Problems of Life” is not the first attempt at Russian literary secession.
Back in the late 80s, the “Northern Messenger” 971, edited by the then young writer A.L. Volynsky 972, risked speaking out against the positive materialist traditions that had become established in our country 973.
But Volynsky’s experiment, as we know, was a complete failure. Almost no one from the public or from representatives of literature wanted to take seriously the articles of Volynsky and his publishing comrades. At first they were ridiculed, then, when they got tired of being ridiculed, they began to hush them up. Severny Vestnik closed, but the struggle it started did not end. Volynsky himself, however, failed to rehabilitate himself in the eyes of the public. Ask any reader: everyone, without hesitation, will tell you that Volynsky is a reactionary and a decadent, therefore, there is nothing to be taken into account with him, there is no point even looking into his books.
This legend about Volynsky firmly holds, despite the fact that it is devoid of any foundation. But such is the fate of the first pioneers: whether they do their job well or badly, they get nothing but the difficulties and dangers associated with all kinds of undertakings.
Volynsky’s comrades at Severny Vestnik were much happier than him. They were also ridiculed and hushed up, but still, although not soon, they managed to break through.
The Marxist organ Nachalo was not afraid to accept the collaboration of Merezhkovsky, Gippius, Minsky, and Vengerova 974. “Nachalo” was soon closed by order of the ministers, but after it the artistic and literary magazine “World of Art” 975 was opened, where all the representatives of the new direction, except Volynsky, found shelter. Then the new direction felt so strong that for the second time it risked opening its own magazine, “New Way”. This publication existed for two years and ceased without the intervention of ministers. The same fate befell the World of Art. Society, the large reading public, did not pay enough attention to the new direction...
And now the “New Way” has just ceased to exist, when it is replaced by “Questions of Life” 976, which, as can be seen from the books that have been published, have set themselves the task of once again uniting the scattered forces of our literary innovators. True, a small magazine “Scales” 977 is published in Moscow, also a secession of its own. But the magazine's program is very narrow: only small literary-critical and philosophical articles are published there, and then reviews of new books. So, in essence, the only representative of new trends in Russian literature is now “Questions of Life”. He differs from his predecessors primarily in that he has an excellently organized socio-political department. Severny Vestnik also had a socio-political department, but it was conducted, as Volynsky himself admitted, ineptly: the magazine was unable to select appropriate employees. In the "World of Art" politics was never mentioned; in the "New Path", if it was said, it was ex officio 978. The public didn't understand this.
She was used to thinking that philosophy is only the path to politics. If we had a demand for “worldviews,” it was mainly due to purely practical needs, and our only practical question was the socio-political question - even since the time of Belinsky, but especially after Chernyshevsky, Dobrolyubov and Pisarev, who knew how to spread irreconcilable hatred of the bureaucratic, as they now say, regime in wide sections of society and put the goals of political liberation of Russia ahead of everything. One of the reasons for Volynsky's failure was that he did not show his political ideals actively enough. Releasing article after article, he almost completely did not touch upon the issues that most worried society. Analyzing Belinsky, Dobrolyubov, Chernyshevsky, Pisarev, he checked the validity of their philosophical generalizations and literary critical verdicts.
The Russian reader himself had long ago guessed that Pushkin was not at all as mediocre as Pisarev appeared to be, but Pisarev was the slogan of the opposition, and whoever pronounced this name without sufficient reverence discredited himself. The indifferentism of the New Way and the World of Art was also interpreted in the sense of political reactionism. It has now become clear that neither the Northern Messenger, nor the World of Art, nor the New Path have anything in common with either the Moskovskiye Vedomosti 979 or the Citizen 980. The very fact that almost all former employees of these publications joined Questions of Life sufficiently proves this. The political department of "Problems of Life", represented by V. Vodovozov, Shtilman, Golubev 981, Yasnopolsky 982, then by the founders of the magazine Bulgakov themselves and partly Berdyaev, leaves nothing to be desired in terms of energy and definiteness of the main ideas.
Bulgakov writes: “Thus, everywhere, in all spheres of Russian life, we come across the same thing, and, like Cato 983, we must conclude all our speeches and all our thoughts with one thing: praeterea censeo delendam esse Carthaginem 984. We must become (and, in essence, we have already become) maniacs for political liberation. We must carry one thought, one dream, one longing, one oath with us always and everywhere, night and day, at work and at rest. We must repeat one thing, by the way and inappropriately, with and without reason, tactfully and tactlessly, repeat, repeat, repeat - until life gives way to us. Delenda est Carthago! 985". None of the Russian people who know how to look into the future and who value the interests of their native country will refuse to subscribe to these beautiful words. All the political articles of the magazine are written in this direction and are mostly compiled in an interesting, thorough, and talented manner. In this respect, the magazine, however, is no different from its other brothers. Since censorship has been tamed, all writers have become more talented. But “Questions of Life” also has its own area, which they used for the first time.
Until now, Russian magazines have paid very little attention to the life and activities of the clergy, as if the Russian people do not know and do not need religion. You can hold whatever views you want, but this in no way means that you are allowed to ignore the religious needs of the people. True, there is an excuse for our publicists: until now it was impossible to say a single word freely about the clergy. If under Pleve any magazine had published such an article as the “religious chronicle” of Uralsky 986 (“Questions of Life”, March) and Bulgakov (“Questions of Life”, April), or “Now or Never” by Merezhkovsky, it would have signed its own death warrant - and the authors would have been in trouble. It is important that Uralsky, Merezhkovsky and Bulgakov are all people whom no one would suspect of fundamental hostility to Orthodoxy.
I will not take the liberty of asserting that they are truly Orthodox - especially regarding Merezhkovsky and Bulgakov; perhaps they did not even manage to become believing Christians: not so long ago, the first as a Nietzschean, the second as a Marxist, adhered to a completely different orthodoxy. But there is no doubt that both of them are very sincere people and, if they do not yet believe, then with all their souls they would like to believe. And the main stumbling block for rapprochement with the Church for them now, as once for Tolstoy, is the monstrously abnormal position of the Russian clergy. The indignant Bulgakov says: “On one of the main squares of Kyiv there is the ancient St. Michael’s Monastery. Its golden heads are crowned with crosses, but above the cross of the main dome there is also a golden double-headed eagle. The double-headed eagle - and not under the cross, but above the cross - is a naively blasphemous symbol, ingenuously expressing the actual position of the Church in Russia, silently telling about the tragedy that is our spiritual history" 987 .
Both Bulgakov and Merezhkovsky repeat the words of Dostoevsky: “The Russian Church has been in paralysis since Peter the Great” 988. We do not have a clergy, but there are officials of the spiritual department, always ready, at the request of their superiors, to take on the disgusting and base role of informers and detectives. In our country, even those people who by conviction belong to another faith are forcibly forced to profess the state religion, and priests are required to take part in this violence. Priests, including representatives of the highest hierarchy, are not indignant at the demands placed on them, and often fulfill them with great zeal. Uralsky, Merezhkovsky and Bulgakov talk a lot about this topic; I refer those interested to their excellent articles. It’s high time to pay attention to this side of our lives - but now it’s especially important not to forget about it. The point is to renew Russia - and the renewed Russia should not leave behind priest-officials.
It would be extremely important that “Questions of Life” become as widespread as possible among the higher and lower clergy. Imbued with great sincerity, the articles of this magazine could teach a lot to those who have not yet lost the ability and desire to learn...
Let us move on from the socio-political objectives of the magazine to its religious and philosophical ideas. In the foreground, of course, should be the founders of “Questions of Life” - Bulgakov and Berdyaev.
Ever since the famous collection, “Problems of Idealism,” was published, which at one time caused so much noise, it has been customary to say “Bulgakov and Berdyaev.” But this is only possible because “and” is a very daring conjunction, which sometimes does not hesitate to connect even the incompatible. In fact, Bulgakov is on his own, Berdyaev is on his own. Previously, when they both acted under the flag of idealism, one could talk about their external similarity.
But, over time, both Bulgakov and Berdyaev felt all the shyness of externally formal definitions and labels. Berdyaev already pronounces the word “idealism” with a grin, Bulgakov avoids it whenever possible, so if you ask what is common between them, you will have to say that there is nothing, or almost nothing: they write in the same magazine. I do not say this to reproach them. In my opinion, people of radically opposing philosophical views can collaborate in the same journal, even publish the same journal. A strictly consistent direction makes sense only in purely political magazines, which see their tasks in the struggle for known ideas, and not in research and exploration. For philosophy there is only one law: free creativity. In a philosophical magazine, anyone who knows how to think boldly, strongly and in their own way is a welcome guest. In this sense, “Questions of Life” almost meets the most ideal requirements. But, unfortunately, only almost.
They, indeed, have already managed to gather together all those writers who have deviated so much from the prevailing trends in our country that they cannot publish in any of the old magazines. But among the authors appearing in “Questions of Life” I do not see the names of V.V. Rozanov and A.L. Volynsky, and I am surprised at this all the more so since the merits of both of these writers are recognized by the magazine’s staff. Volzhsky published a large and interesting work about Rozanov, Berdyaev calls him the largest Russian writer. Volynsky's name is mentioned with respect in Berdyaev's articles.
Now let's return to Bulgakov and Berdyaev. In terms of their philosophical tendencies, as I already said, they bear little resemblance to each other. But they have one curious thing in common: both are prone to “evolution.” I even allow myself to think that this is not their personal peculiarity, that the spirit of the time is affected here. Previously, it happened that a writer entered the literary field as a completely complete person; even though he began at the age of 20 and then wrote for half a century, he usually considered himself obliged in his old age to adhere to the same opinions that he expressed in his early youth. The writer needed not so much to think and search as to preach. Therefore, it was considered the greatest disgrace to renounce one’s beliefs. And when, over the course of several years, Berdyaev and Bulgakov, in front of everyone’s eyes, made an evolution from Marxism to idealism and then from idealism to those new directions that they now adhere to and for which they have not yet found real words, everyone was extremely amazed, and unpleasantly amazed. Is it possible to change beliefs like that?
The impression was all the more powerful because in Berdyaev and Bulgakov we have people who are undoubtedly very sincere, and at the same time very talented and serious. At first, the response to their rapid evolution was pronounced indignation, but then they took a closer look, got used to it and, it seems to me, began to treat young writers calmer and more fairly. They realized that the essence of philosophical works comes down to a much greater extent to searching than to finding something firmly defined, and where there is searching, there are discoveries, changes, charms, etc. Bulgakov, apparently, himself suffers extremely from the inability to come to strictly defined conclusions. By nature, he loves stability most of all and looks with secret, sometimes even obvious, envy at the lucky ones who have completed their chaotic wanderings and reached the coveted Rome. In this regard, his response to Prince’s letter is very interesting. Trubetskoy, published in the February book “Questions of Life” 989. Bulgakov is jealous of the prince.
Trubetskoy, it seems to him that a little more mental effort, and he will provide himself with that imperturbable peace of mind that is inherent in the prince’s faith. Vain hope! Peace of mind is made of very different stuff than mental effort. No theories, no matter how magnificently constructed, will quench the thirst of a restless spirit. Bulgakov was once a materialist. Now he considers this theory to be completely refuted and despises it. But, if he wanted to rummage through his memory, he would remember that the materialists learned some truths. Der Mensch ist was er isst 990 - no idealism will refute this: you just need to not take the saying too literally. But Bulgakov does not want to know this. With feverish haste, he builds his own theories, perceives others - all in the hope of getting to the final end in this way. He studies Solovyov, the Slavophiles, reads sacred books, even thick treatises of Protestant theologians - perhaps he will find what he needs there. And for a moment he seems to be there, he seems to calm down, he knows what he needs, but only for a moment.
So even when he begins to preach and convince people, there is always some crack in his voice, which he tries in vain to hide from himself by increasing the sound. He still finds it possible to call his mental states “faith.” Will a believer agree with him? I don’t know, but a searching person in the struggles of his spirit will find echoes of familiar anxiety, will forgive him for fluctuations in judgment and will be more willing to read his articles than the coined programs offered by the dominant complete worldviews.
Berdyaev is a nature of a completely different order. He also knows, and knows well, what doubts are - not the doubts of the playing mind, called skepticism, but deep spiritual failures leading to the unexplored, mysterious and terrible region of tragedy. But Berdyaev is, first of all, a carefree person. He - for now, at least - knows how to enjoy everything, even the memories of the horrors he experienced. Therefore, he fearlessly moves forward, does not repent of anything and regrets nothing. He doesn’t even want to count the losses and always prefers to claim that in fact there were never any losses. He still continues to assure, for example, that the entire content of human life can be contained in the categories developed by theoretical philosophy. You can preserve the old concepts of good and evil, you can continue to believe in logic and reason - just not small, but big.
Along with these statements of a general nature, caused by the reluctance to part with the acquisitions of school philosophy, you find in him individual remarks that directly exclude even the possibility of any categories. Even Berdyaev’s manner of presentation is a direct reproach to logic: capricious and torn, almost aphoristic, it does not recognize any laws above itself. And it’s not that Berdyaev did not notice the indicated contradictions. On the contrary, he has excellent dialectical abilities, an “academic head,” as a learned professor would say. And he shows them when he has to act as a critic and test others. But he considers consistency and logic in judgments only obligatory for others, while he frees himself from everything that is in any way binding. He is even indifferent to literary form. For him, literature is not art. And not because he didn’t like art at all. This cannot be said about him: he makes the most stringent demands of his literary colleagues in this, as in other respects.
But he himself would like to move through literature, logic and philosophy to some other area, to denote which, as usual, he does not hesitate to take the closest word, but the first one that comes across. He readily talks about religion as the ultimate goal of man. But I, like everyone who knows what religion is and what Berdyaev is, will hardly agree for a minute to admit that the word was chosen well. Berdyaev strives for something and strives in his own way, no doubt. Perhaps someday he will be able to speak on this topic with the desired completeness, without pouring new wine into old wineskins - but then it will be clear that it was not religion that interested him. Perhaps then the carelessness will subside and notes of disappointment will appear. But why rush into it? The young writer suits courage, hope and mistakes. Let's leave the disappointment to the old people. This is why I willingly forgive Berdyaev even his last article, “Culture and Politics,” although I consider it factually incorrect and philosophically incorrect.
In fact, it is not true that Russian literature of recent decades was created exclusively by a new direction - “decadence”. In addition to the poets, philosophers and critics of the new type, there were outstanding writers of a positive direction. And then - what is even more important - decadence did not have, does not have and should not have a future. Its cultural significance boils down only to the fact that, to some extent, as an original, interesting or even simply funny invention, it can serve everyday life, everyday life, and positivism. It even seems to me that Berdyaev himself, without me, knows all this well. But he does not always say everything he knows, because the most important thing for youth is to triumph, and she will always have time to speak out. This is the wisdom of life.
Based on the given characteristics of the founders of Questions of Life, the reader can judge the literary and philosophical objectives of the magazine. It is clear that we are dealing with experiments, with something that has not yet been determined, unfinished, although the names of not only young writers are found among the magazine’s employees. But young people here are not young - the direction is young. It has become cramped within the narrow confines of positivism, restless souls are striving for space, but God knows whether they will break out. You encounter the same struggles, often difficult and painful, in works of art and in poems appearing on the pages of the new magazine. Take, for example, a poem by Fyodor Sologub (May), which begins with the words: “The moon of the Lord is high.” An original and deep idea - but how much horror there is in it, despite all its simplicity. Who else would have thought of using a dog's howling as the subject of a poem? Or Blok’s poem in the same book. It resembles Maeterlinck, but in a strange way does not lose its originality. I will also point out a novel by A. Remizov - “The Pond”.
As far as I know, Remizov is a debutant and has not yet been published anywhere. He has an undoubted artistic talent: this is indicated by both the form and content of the novel. But Remizov has a taste for the problematic, the incomprehensible, the unsolved. Instead of reducing the unknown to the known, he, on the contrary, tries to make the understandable mysterious. For what? But here you go? Why should Bulgakov rush around when he could calmly remain with economic materialism or at least Kantian idealism? Why should Berdyaev abandon logic, morality and even art and express two mutually exclusive propositions on two adjacent pages? Why does Sologub howl on a moonlit night with dogs? For what?
Let me summarize. “Questions of Life” – literary secession. Writers who have deviated from the path along which our literature has followed and developed in recent years find a place for themselves. As a magazine for self-education, for training the mind and character, it cannot be recommended. For young people, for unsettled people, it is even downright harmful. But for those who have tried to walk on their own two feet, for those who see in a writer not an all-knowing teacher, but an equal person, differing from others only in the ability to convey their thoughts in a literary manner - for those, “Questions of Life” will provide the most necessary, living, varied, although by no means recycled material. For everyone who is not afraid to do experiments, even the most risky, and at first glance, experiments that do not promise anything, gather there and, I hope, will soon gather.
Anton Krainy (Z. N. Gippius). Literary diary 991
Like any phenomenon in literature that is too new and independent, Questions of Life, a young magazine published since last year in St. Petersburg, is carefully and unfriendlyly hushed up here.
This is where the mental conservatism of our radicals comes into play.
There is no doubt that “Questions of Life” is a progressive, “red” organ, a brighter red color than our ruddy or only rouged, gradually fading, pale pink liberal old men who try in vain to keep the complexion of their faces and the color of their thoughts unchanged since the blessed memory of the sixties. With timid and distrustful glances they glance sideways at their young brother: you are not suitable for us, God bless you. Metaphysics, mysticism, religion - all this smacks of reaction. No, I'd rather do it the old fashioned way...
It’s a pity, because the new magazine is a very serious, not only literary, but also social phenomenon.
If we had to define it in two words, we could do it with the formula: the transition from a positive to a religious public.
The task is extremely difficult. Here, first of all, there is a theoretical difficulty - the resistance of the entire Russian and European public, which is entirely anti-religious in its conscious or unconscious bias; the resistance of all historical Christianity, which is all thoroughly antisocial, antisocial, and if social, then in the most pitiful reactionary sense.
The practical difficulty is even more insurmountable, especially here in Russia, where the connection between religion and reaction is not abstract, but very real, intimate, sometimes bloody. Talking about it is like talking about a rope in the house of a hanged man.
To cut this damned Gordian knot, you need not only strong, but also clean hands; to overcome this unchanging realism, we need high idealism in the noblest sense of the word; our “idealists” were real idealists, precisely in this sense. Probably their worst enemies, from whom they suffered so much unjust persecution up to the usual reproach of political apostasy, will agree, at least in the secret of their conscience, that our idealists’ hands were sufficiently clean for this pure cause. And whatever the success or failure, the very initiative itself has great significance, which sooner or later will be appreciated. Such efforts cannot be in vain.
Another advantage of “Questions of Life” is its culture. In our journalism, it has long been the custom that eternal cultural values - science, philosophy, art, fiction - are sacrificed not only to eternal, but also to temporary, topical, political goals, “tactics and practice,” as Bakunin put it. One cannot judge too harshly for this, because in Russia everything really depends on politics, and the trouble here is not so much that culture is sacrificed to politics, but that this is done with too light a heart, without sufficient awareness of how great and responsible the sacrifice is. This sin is not present on “Questions of Life”; For them, culture is not only a means, but also a goal, not only an instrument of politics, but also an independent, eternal value. From what is, the magazine strives for what should be, to ensure that culture does not serve politics, but, on the contrary, culture serves politics.
In view of these two advantages, social and cultural, we can say with confidence: “Problems of Life” is the best of Russian magazines.
That's the asset, now let's sum up the liability.
In all likelihood, the leaders of “Questions of Life” themselves are aware that the religious community for them is only a good wish, pium desiderium 992, and not an accomplished fact. There is an unresolved, perhaps insoluble, contradiction between the religious and social sides of the magazine.
The fact that Mr. Shtilman’s internal reviews, which mainly give the journal a radical direction, have nothing to do with his religious essence would be another half-hearted shame. Here the contradiction is too obvious, external; More dangerous are the internal contradictions in this religious being itself and, finally, most dangerous are those external, premature and deceptive agreements that more or less successfully cover up these contradictions.
One of them is the “Christian politics” of S. N. Bulgakov. I have no doubt that he is a sincere politician; but I don’t see how Christianity changed his politics and how politics changed his Christianity. As they were apart, they continue to be together. Before his Christian conversion, Bulgakov was a political radical, and remained exactly the same radical after. What took place was not an internal, organic connection, but an external, mechanical one, not even a connection, but a connection in which both principles are mutually impenetrable. No matter how much you shake and mix the oils with water, as soon as they settle, the water sinks and the oil floats to the top: they are nearby, but not alone.
In all of Bulgakov's political activities one can feel a somewhat clumsy, clumsy, but great mental and moral strength. He knows how to want what he wants: this is a rare quality these days. But in his mental makeup there is a dangerous trait: the absence of any internal tragedy, excessive mental well-being. His entire tragedy is external - the discrepancy between the ideal and reality. When Bulgakov speaks, it seems that everything around him is bad, but in himself it couldn’t be better. He is calm about Vl. Solovyov, like behind a stone mountain. The Pythagorean ipse dixit, he himself said, protects the student from all mental disturbances and storms 993. Goethe noted that in order for a person to take possession of a spiritual inheritance, it is not enough to receive it from his ancestors, he must acquire it again himself. Sometimes it seems that Bulgakov received from Vl. Solovyov’s inheritance, but he himself did not acquire it, did not suffer.
I say: it seems, because, in fact, under this external well-being, an internal tragedy may be taking place, only we do not see it, he himself does not see it, hides it from himself and from others, disowns it. And he does it in vain. If the seed does not die, it will not come to life 994. We know how Bulgakov lived, but we don’t know how he died. Or did he live without dying?
Bulgakov and Berdyaev are no longer oil and water, but water and fire. Only complete inattention to the literary personality of both writers can explain the fact that our criticism united them into an inseparable pair of some kind of Siamese twins of idealism. If Bulgakov is dangerously healthy, then Berdyaev is dangerously ill; If Bulgakov has no tragedy, excessive prosperity, then Berdyaev has such a tragedy that you are scared for him - will he come out of it alive? This is the same tragedy as all of Dostoevsky’s main characters from Stavrogin to Ivan Karamazov: an endless split of mind and heart, will between the upper and lower abyss, between “the ideal of Madonna and the ideal of Sodom,” as Dmitry Karamazov puts it 995. In order to achieve religious union, one must go through to the end this tragedy of metaphysical duality; but woe to the one who dwells on it too long, who likes it too much. Berdyaev suffers from it, but at the same time loves her - the more he suffers, the more he loves.
He is looking for a way out, but if he had found it, he might not have wanted it, preferring tragic hopelessness. He sees all the horror of what is happening to him, but the horror is sweeter for him, perhaps sweeter than salvation. Just as aesthetes have art for art’s sake, so Berdyaev has tragedy for tragedy’s sake.
Bulgakov stopped at Vl. Solovyov and does not want or cannot go further. Berdyaev seems to be always going somewhere, but in fact he is only walking, moving in a monotonous circular motion on his own axis, oscillating like a pendulum from right to left. From left to right, from Ormuzd to Ahriman, from Ahriman to Ormuzd 996 - so on endlessly, until the axis frays, or the spring of the pendulum bursts, then it stops at the very point from which this motionless motion leading nowhere began.
One can say about Berdyaev what Kirillov says about Stavrogin: “When he believes, he doesn’t believe that he believes, and when he doesn’t believe, he doesn’t believe that he doesn’t believe.”997
According to some signs, I hope that Berdyaev will finally overcome his tragedy - he will break free from his axis and rush completely to the right or to the left, to Ormuzd or Ahriman. I even hope that he goes exactly where he should, to the right, and not to the left. And then only he will show what he is capable of, and what religious power was bound in this tragic powerlessness of duality. Then, perhaps, for Bulgakov he
will be more needed than anyone, but for now there is no person more unnecessary, more harmful for Bulgakov than Berdyaev, and for Berdyaev than Bulgakov. It seems that the best thing they could do now is to enter into an open mental duel of life and death: perhaps Bulgakov’s too-prosperous monism would split, colliding with Berdyaev’s too-unsuccessful dualism, and the blow of these two crossed swords would ignite the spark of that genuine, religious fire that both need so much. And eating from the same dish, sleeping on the same bed, like Siamese twins, internally being on knives - one must be surprised how they both finally did not get sick of it.
The same bad peace, which is worse than a good fight, as between Bulgakov and Berdyaev, between Berdyaev and Volzhsky, between Shestov and Vyach. Ivanov, between all idealists and all Christians, between Christians and decadents, between decadents and social activists. Many people don’t even see each other’s faces, but if they did, they would hate them. Everyone is for himself, and everyone is against everyone.
And perhaps even worse: not everyone is against everyone, but no one cares about anyone, and “Questions of Life” is not a future battlefield, but the most calm, comfortable apartment, magnificent furnished rooms “for respectable residents” or an elegant hotel in the “new style”. The residents sit at home, each in their own separate corner. At home, they are free to do whatever they want, as long as they don’t bother their neighbors through the walls. There are no internal doors between the rooms - all doors open into the corridor. Residents rarely meet at the entrance. And through the walls they really don’t bother each other. Perhaps many are not interested in who lives nearby, as long as their own room is tidy. The large hall is adapted for “social activists”. Several of them live together and do not quarrel. And then all the rooms, luxurious “private offices” of skeptics and cozy bedrooms, cells of mystics. How and why the “department of fine literature” ended up in the same apartment, and the most recent, overwhelmingly decadent (Sologub, Remizov, Blok) is a complete mystery.
Not a single decadent, I think, even passed by the door of Berdyaev’s room; there is nothing to say about the case of the “social activists”. The decadent is equally unaware of the existence of individualists and social activists, and even of another neighboring decadent. He would like to go to a green meadow with Beklin’s 998 cypresses, nymphs and centaurs, and he would be in furnished rooms. However, he doesn't care. It's like that here. Nobody bothers him.
The only one in “Questions of Life” who conscientiously connects the incompatible, though not so much people and concepts as words, is Mr. Chulkov 999; moreover, without any malicious intent, but somehow innocently and accidentally, he deprives the youngest and purest of them of their virginity. There was, for example, a young word: anarchism and another even younger one: mysticism; Mr. Chulkov combined them - and the result was “mystical anarchism.” What is it? It would seem that the combination of such opposite extremes should produce something extremely dangerous, explosive, like a bomb filled with dynamite. Nothing happened. The result was not dynamite, but a very piquant, new, literary dish, a spicy sauce that may upset the stomach slightly, but, of course, no explosion will occur. The fact is that Mr. Chulkov cooks up his compounds not in an explosives laboratory, but in the safest, most advanced hygienic kitchen. Here, in one saucepan, with naive diligence, he cooks mysticism with decadence, the Sophianism of Vl. Solovyova with orgasm Vyach.
Ivanov and sprinkles them with the sugar of socialism, thinking that this is anarchist salt. But the whiteness is not great, sugar will pass for salt, because the whole economy is in the “new style”, so everyone is ready for anything, and no one is surprised by anything. Well, perhaps only in the common corridor, which is poorly ventilated, because all the doors to the rooms are always tightly locked - sometimes it smells too much of Chulkovsky kitchen...
I laugh, but I'm sad. I love “Questions of Life”, because I love it because there is a drop of my honey in it. They grew up at the grave of the New Way. But, loving “Questions of Life,” I don’t know what to wish for them more, a happy long life or a quick tragic end, maybe even suicidal. I think I would prefer the latter for them, precisely because I love them. Well, what kind of joy, indeed, is there in this confusion of languages, the internal war of all against all under the external well-being of furnished rooms? There is a wonderful magazine, or rather, there are a number of wonderful almanacs-collections under a common title, but there is no truly common, social and religious matter. It would be better if all the participants in this imaginary affair separated completely; then, perhaps, some of them would subsequently return to each other and get back together completely.
In all likelihood, “Problems of Life” is not suitable for such a new connection, and a completely new journal, a new business is needed. It is, however, natural: you can’t always ask “questions”; in June – “questions”, in July – “questions”, in August – “questions”; I have to answer someday.
Let’s hope that the answer to “Questions of Life” will be the messenger of life, a matter that has not yet been born, but has already been conceived, to which one should say from the bottom of one’s heart, not only as a close one, but as one’s own dear cause: God help!
I thought first of writing about two Moscow collections that were published almost simultaneously: “Free Conscience” (issue 2) and “Questions of Religion.” But, it seems, I will only write about the second one. And in the second, much is incomprehensible to me; the very meaning of the existence of the first, “Free Conscience” - its living face - completely eludes me. One would have to argue that this collection has neither meaning nor a living face; but I don't want that. I know many of its participants as talented and significant people; if the data in their article is not the best, then this does not mean anything. I don’t understand the point of combining them in one heavy book under the same gray cover of “Free Conscience”, and I’d rather not judge anyone, leaving it on the conscience of the participants. Perhaps S. Soloviev and A. Bely 1000 know where and how their works are connected with the long ladies' story about a brave general who loves roses and his heroic daughter, who defended the fortress during the pacification of the Caucasus and supported the honor of the regiment; I don’t see this connection, and I don’t want to lie that I see it.
I don’t see anything “common” in the “collection”, in its fact. That's why I can't write anything.
“Questions of Religion”... is, first of all, truly a collection, a collection of people connected by one thread. If not by one understanding (we will now see whether they are connected by one understanding), then at least by one... word. This word is Christianity. The brief preface to the collection states that “individual articles will be internally united by a common Christian worldview.” And it added: “but at the same time, the authors are given complete freedom to express individual opinions and even disagreements on issues of secondary importance.” The commonality of a “Christian” - (i.e., one and very specific) - worldview (i.e., worldview, universal understanding) - this is what the participants in the collection are connected with, as they think.
Indeed, with such a strong connection, such an all-encompassing community, there is no fear of private, personal disagreements. But what do the participants in the collection call “issues of secondary importance”? Questions about violence, about asceticism, about the structure of social life, its ideal and tomorrow's practice along the path of striving towards the ideal - what are these, important or unimportant questions? Should they be decided, or at least set, but in disagreement among people of the same worldview? Or are they so secondary, and the circle of the “Christian worldview” so narrow, that these questions are naturally resolved individually, each in his own way, beyond the pale?
No, of course not. The authors of the collection “Questions of Religion” are deep, talented people and - this is the main thing! – sincere. They are sincerely convinced that these issues are not secondary. They sincerely believe that they are united by Christianity to resolve issues, and that Christianity is a known understanding of the world. They say it - and I believe that they believe it. I believe in faith - but not in fact. Because if they were united not by the word “Christianity”, but by the same worldview, the same view of life and the world, the same feeling and perception of it, there would not be such lonely, solitary people in the collection, posing the most important, deepest human questions, and lonely, different, in a Christian way - but in their own way, only in their own way, resolving them.
The book begins with an article by V. Sventsitsky “The Christian attitude to power and violence”, and ends with Bulgakov “The Church and the Social Question”. The entire collection is devoted to the relationship of Christianity to the public; It is too clear that for the authors this is not a minor thing, but the most important thing, the most important; This is where they crave unity, believing in their own like-mindedness. Bulgakov has recently been writing almost exclusively about creating foundations for the “Christian public.” He believes in her gently, reverently, optimistically, tenderly, lovingly; it seems to him that just a little more, and she’s already here, everything is already there. He is almost right, because in his very Christian gentleness he needs a little. The Christian Church, in particular the Orthodox Church, true in everything, and eternal, - at this moment in history it has not yet understood something, it still clings, with its external manifestations, to autocracy - but it will understand, now it will understand, and everything will be fine.
And good, progressive priests will serve in churches - surrounded by an “outer courtyard” - by the world, by “Christian” peaceful life, by the state - of course, by the same “Christian” one, on a social basis. Bulgakov imagines this future Christian structure as necessarily having an “outer courtyard,” and many times insists on an “outer courtyard.” He took the expression “from the scriptures”: he loves texts, especially from the apostles, but this time he took the Apocalypse. And unsuccessfully. For it says there: “... but exclude the outer court of the temple and do not measure it: for it was given to the pagans: they will trample the holy city for forty-two months” 1001.
Indeed, what kind of Christian social life is there with “outer courts” and inner vestibules? But what can you do, Bulgakov is truly Christianly gentle. And in the collection, he consistently brings his soft width to complete disunity, even to the opposition of the Church and Life, eliminating in life every action, doing, every real step. Its effect lies only in the “religious impregnation” of the situation in which the Christian consciousness finds you. If you are a manufacturer, if you are an official, if you are an officer, accept it without protest, do not break it; - “remain in the rank in which you are called,” Bulgakov quotes from the message and adds: just imbue your work with the Christian spirit. It seems impossible to go further in tolerance. The author himself makes a reservation: “In this attitude, others will see “opportunism,” not a “lazy, cold, fearful” attitude to business. This is only a sincere, personal view of the world, and in accordance with its temperament, the accepted word “Christianity.” This does not in the least prevent Bulgakov from sincerely (personally and privately) believing in Christ.
In this sense, Bulgakov undoubtedly was and remains a Christian.
But there is another, just as sincerely, perhaps more ardently, a believer in Christ - Sventsitsky. How does he, based on his worldview, illuminate these not secondary, but the most primary questions? If Bulgakov has Christian gentleness, tenderness and tolerance, Sventsitsky has Christian severity, mercilessness, harshness, often similar to cruelty. He probably doesn’t even hear Bulgakov’s quiet dreams. Behind his words one can almost imagine a stern brown face with compressed eyebrows, with a heavy golden halo flickering in the lamp rays. “Whoever does not renounce this and this and this and that... is unworthy of Him,” is what Sventsitsky says all the time. And he speaks in such a way that soft, gentle Christians, like Bulgakov, must certainly be frightened and tremble when he speaks. While he's talking. He is not convincing to them, but he is impressive. And in his own way, he is not more right, but exactly as much, just as they are. He is to the same extent, the same real “Christian”.
In his article, Sventsitsky, having somehow proven psycho-philosophically, unconvincingly, but complexly, that violence and murder are two completely different things, that it is possible, while recognizing violence (over the flesh, mind you!), not to recognize murder, ends in a completely un-Bulgakovian way, and even vice versa: “Yes, Christians can, should resort to violence against non-believers (understanding this word in our sense 1002). The violence of Christians should not be aimed at forcibly bringing them to Christ, but at limiting the lust that corrupts humanity. Therefore, Christians can and must fight economic oppression with violent (original course) methods, strikes, etc.” ... “in the name of Christ, in the name of expelling from the human body the forces that corrupt it” ... “and when the Church separates from the state, it will have to begin a struggle with unbelievers against the existing capitalist system.”
This is the conclusion of the article. Earlier, Sventsitsky, emphasizing, expressed a very correct thought: “No Christian state is unthinkable.” He thinks that if the whole world became “Christian”, then there would be no state at all, but there would be one Church. In the meantime, the Church must fight “external” violent measures. Yes, there is no time for every factory owner, like a worker, to remain peacefully as they are, gradually imbuing their lives with the Christian spirit! There is no time to wait for the imminent coming of good, conscientious priests! On the contrary, Sventsitsky calls “church liberalism” “half-truth” and severely condemns it.
Okay, so what should a Christian do and how should he think? According to Bulgakov or according to Sventsitsky? They both claim a Christian worldview. Moreover, for some reason they both believe that they are in the same Christian Church, and even the Orthodox Church. What worldview does the Church have? Bulgakov or Sventsitsky? Who is she with? Or where are they? However, we will return to the Church, but for now let’s take a conscientious look inside the collection to see if Bulgakov still has a like-minded person; Are there at least two, if not three, with the same “worldview”.
Here is the methodologist Ern. This is a very smart person; not a writer; undoubtedly also a believer. He modestly titled his article “about the parish” - but he clearly writes about the Christian community as a separate unit, develops in detail its economic situation, demanding all the time “community of property” - land, tools of production, etc. He relies heavily, with many references and texts, on the first centuries of Christianity, on the first apostolic communities. From page 132, let’s turn the pages to 314. Bulgakov writes: “We deny in the very idea of church-economic communities, which we did not know even in the first centuries of Christianity, and this is what the apostle teaches about this. Paul, who demanded that everyone remain in the rank in which he was called (1 Cor. 7:2), left slaves as before as slaves, and masters as masters...”, etc. It is not worth writing out further; further goes just as much against Ern as against Sventsitsky with his violent struggle.
But Ern also has an opponent in his collection. Another Christian believer, another one “united by the same worldview.” This is Volzhsky. Oh, not the Methodist Ern, not the soft Christian Bulgakov, and not Savonarola-Sventsitsky 1003 - this is a fiery and weak mystic, restless and helpless, loving and rejecting, thirsty and doubting, saved and perishing. Literature, words, like its flesh - he feels more than all others, and with touching bitterness he strives for it. If we say that he does not believe in Christ, that he is not a “Christian” in this sense, then who believes? While Sventsitsky calls believers to violence against non-believers, Bulgakov prescribes “impregnation” as a tactic, and envisions churches and “outer courtyards” as an ideal, Ern discusses the structure of communities denied in principle by Bulgakov, and invariably supports his arguments with references to the first centuries: “And so it was in the Apostolic Church, but so it should be in the Revived Church” (p. 124). “So it was in the Apostolic Church” (p.
134), - while all this is happening, - Volzhsky, with the hope of despair, stretches out his hands to Solovyov’s and even, perhaps, beyond Solovyov’s ideal of “the religious whole of a free theocracy,” and immediately, without noticing, overturns Ern with all his supports... “Christian action,” says Volzhsky, “cannot be a return to the experience of the first Christians; religious experience is in history, and history does not return. Religious Christian work, “Christian politics” cannot be a repetition of the work of the first Christians also because it has already been done, the new must translate it into itself along with the implementation of centuries-old culture, and is complicated by a living anticipation of what is still expected, promised...” Volzhsky ends with “the tragedy of contradictions,” and says that tragedy, “internally accepted,” is “the deepest tragedy of Christianity in life – the tragedy of asceticism par excellence.” “Only here, only in ascetic tragedy is it possible to rise” above the truth of life to the perfection of the truth of Christ.
This is much darker than the arrivals of Ern, the strikes of Sventsitsky, the complacent, holy tenderness of Bulgakov, but this is also a “Christian worldview,” and it is again completely different, even excluding all others from the data, in exactly the same way as it is excluded by anyone; be it Ernovsky or Bulgakovsky. The strangest thing is that Volzhsky also considers his ascetic Christian worldview to be the only “true Christian” one, for it is inherent in the heart of the one true Christian Church, and again the same thing - the Orthodox.
Lord, what is going on here? Is the loneliness of these people so extreme, so terrible, that they don’t even see the face of the one standing next to them, no one hears anyone? Or do they only hear the sound of one word spoken by everyone - “Christianity”, sometimes also “Church”? And so, for the sake of religious agreement, they are content with a common word: about the agreement that they unconsciously feel and which brought them together - a completely simple, purely human, completely non-religious agreement: the unanimous protest of Russian intellectuals against the outdated, no longer intolerable, forms of the Russian state public. Here they agree. And then, when asked in the name of what the protest is for, they, as in any ordinary circles and associations, begin to have differences of personalities: one is more inclined to permanent revolution, another to gradual reforms, a third... to something else, and so on ad infinitum.
Holding their point of view. Having accepted their view of the Church as the bearer of truth and a single true worldview, it is impossible, impossible to admit that all Christians in the collection “Questions of Religion” belong to it. Only one belongs. They could not disagree with this themselves if they wanted to listen to each other. Without changing their point of view, they have no external or internal right, and not the slightest reason to consider themselves the sons of any one mother.
And I, indeed, look at them as united and religiously, united “Christianly” - at the only point at which only a “Christian” union is possible: in the faith of each in the Person of Christ. Understanding Christianity in this way, we can assume that they are the sons of one and the same, not necessarily Orthodox, but every “Church” that professes faith in Christ. Unless, of course, the union of people at this one point, in personal faith in the One Person of Christ, is a union that does not yet determine a common attitude towards the world. While not yet giving any definite view of the world and humanity, it can be called the Church.
Yes, each of the Christians we are talking about is dear to Christ—and to the world’s human history. They want to connect Christ with the history of the world, to justify history before Christ. But this is impossible with their Christianity. They want to “revive” the Christian Church. If it is necessary to “revive” and “restore,” then they too admit that “Christianity” is dying, falling. In history, it means that something went wrong, in the wrong direction, and for a long time already. This “fall” of the Christian Church began so long ago, and it is so well known that in any textbook you can read the calm phrase: “When soon the gifts of grace in the church stopped”... They stopped! Before the Councils, almost during the time of the apostles, they stopped! So, did all of humanity “fall apart” so much that it swept away the truth, jokingly defeated it, and faith in the hearts became impoverished, and there were no more righteous people? No, not at all. And faith did not fail, and there were and are righteous people. Only the “Church” has become impoverished, that is, the Assembly. The unity of the believers - and the believers are alive and well.
If you do not indulge in idle dreams of a miraculous “rebirth” of the Church, then a person who stubbornly believes in “Christianity” is left to curse the entire historical path of mankind almost from the second century and then, moving away, perish along with some of the dying “churches”: Catholic, Orthodox - it makes no difference.
And yet (is it really so difficult to see) after all, we have been given, without diminishing the truth of Christ, without taking away a single line from faith in His Divine Person, and even based on this faith, not only to justify history, but to admit that it could not have been otherwise. Why don't we want to face the truth? Why don’t we want to say to ourselves once and for all: Christianity did not “failed,” but general, social, all-human, ecclesiastical Christianity in the highest sense did not exist, could not and cannot exist, because Christianity is not ecclesiastical? I don’t know, I can’t comprehend - what takes away from a Christian, that is, from a person with a face, sincere faith in Christ - from Bulgakov, from Sventsitsky, from Volzhsky - the recognition that “Christianity” is precisely complete, personal faith in one Divine Person?
If we say that Christ revealed to us only this most necessary truth about the individual,” “the truth about man,” which is not yet the union of individual people who know only themselves and the One, into one new body, if we say that Christ is the only Way to such a union of all, will this belittle Christ? Christianity is not ecclesiastical, but it is the path to the Church, the path of self-deepening in a still lonely, personal faith - human history has not changed this path. She faithfully served Christ, faithfully and inviolably carrying His truth through twenty centuries, deepening it, embodying it in every individual believing soul. There cannot be a Church of Christ, only Christ, beginning with Christ and being concluded by Him alone, because Christ is only where the Father and the Spirit are, where there is fullness; the true Church is completeness.
Why, if we look at the deadly perceived dogma of the Trinity vividly, realistically, if we say that the Church, the union of individual believers, is subject to incarnation only in the coming of the Spirit, whom the Son will send and who “will announce the future to us”; why, if we take Christ only as the truth, life and way to the Church, will we belittle Christ?
And let them not object to me that in the Christian Church there is not a dead dogma about the Trinity, but the Trinity itself. A modicum of sobriety is enough. A drop of sincerity to admit that in all Christian churches there has always been and is still alive only one Christ, while the Father Spirit is only mentioned. All trembling, all prayer, all the heart of every believer was given only to Christ. And this is a blessing. If it is not so, if the existing “church” is right, affirming itself as the true Church of all mankind, for already in Apostolic times the Spirit descended upon it, grace was poured out, then is this not the final death of Christianity and Christ, the victory of history over them? Because if in those days the promise “about the future” had already been fulfilled, all the grace had already been poured out, then it had dried up. “The gifts of grace have ceased in the church.” What else do we expect and where do we come from if everything has already happened and passed on? Then the end, then truly “your faith is in vain” in the living Christ, today’s Christians! But faith is not in vain, for the teaching of the “church” about the Spirit is not ecclesiastical.
There was a path, there was sighing, aspiration and hope in every individual believing soul, but there was no fulfillment yet. There was only his guarantee: a lonely, strong faith - living - in Christ alone.
But with Christ alone, taking Him as the only fixed point, we still have neither the world (cosmos) nor humanity. We are forced to look at them, to treat them outside the circle of our faith, non-religiously. It is still impossible to build any worldview, much less a general one, on personal faith in Christ. You can deceive yourself, but nothing comes of it, as we just saw. It may be possible to try to “revive” the Christian, in particular the Orthodox, “Church”, but for this we must descend into its final depths, into its true heart - into asceticism, into schema-monsterhood - with frankness turning away from the world, despising the times and the path that has been given to us in time and traversed in time. Return to the solitary life together of the righteous who deepen their personal faith. Again, to begin what has been completed, to do what has been done - and what has been done is so great, so beautiful! Didn’t it really serve us, did it really turn out to be unnecessary for us, as if it didn’t exist at all? Denying this story too - “how would we not turn out to be opponents of God?”
I cannot believe, however, that the impulse of people who believe in Christ to create a “religious community” will spill over into fruitless attempts to find a “Christian” community. The very thirst for the “Church” - community, the unity of people not without Christ, but with Christ - this thirst is already an indicator of ways and times.
You just need to look forward, not back, when walking.
D.V. Philosophers. Voice of the Laity 1004
The pre-conciliar commission temporarily, on the occasion of the summer vacation, stopped its activities 1005.
It is difficult to say how long this rest for the overburdened members of the commission will last, without knowing exactly when the season will begin. It is known that in Russia the seasons are now completely confused. Perhaps we no longer have any “times”. Timelessness has arrived, a polar, hopeless winter. Everything was frozen and frozen. Winter, however, has its good, hygienic sides. All the stinking puddles freeze, and it seems as if you are living in clean air. One of the last Slavophiles, Konstantin Leontyev, who migrated from the censorship department straight to Optina Pustyn 1006, even advised the Russian government to follow the example of Father Frost. “It is necessary,” he says, “to freeze Russian culture. This will protect Russia from decay” 1007. He gave wise advice. Only the frost saved our government. And when the thaw began, after the Japanese war, such “femiasms” began, in Leskov’s words 1008, that you just plug your nose!
Probably, the pre-conciliar commission also expects that the winter will be endless, and therefore is in no hurry to resume its activities. Time endures. Reforms are only needed during a thaw. In the meantime, you can start producing ice cream. This is a familiar, common thing.
And the persecution began against the clergy, against that clergy who, in the opinion of our hierarchs, had forgotten the covenants of Christ and blasphemously rebelled against the death penalty. They say that the Suzdal monastery prison has been renovated and newly decorated premises have been prepared for new residents. In the Duma, the priests talked and worried so much that it would do them no harm to rest; The members of the pre-conciliar commission are also resting! They were tired too. Frankly, they have the right to rest. So many important issues have been resolved. The professors showed off their erudition; attorney Kuznetsov wrote so many reports that it seems impossible to count them. General Kireev 1009 amazed everyone with his theological education (and they also talk about the inability of our generals!), and Mr. Neidgardt 1010 very tactfully and appropriately, like all “true Russian people”, like Gringmut, Kleigels, Gurland 1011 and many others, mentioned when discussing the question of the relationship of the Church to the state, about ... his loyal feelings.
With such a brief but powerful statement, the entire role of this lay member of the pre-conciliar commission was limited. It’s good that “lay people” were invited to join the commission!
Unfortunately, the “uninvited” lay people are less tactful. Their voice sounds slightly different from the voice of Messrs. Kireev and Neidgardt. Their lyre is not so cheerful and peaceful.
Recently, several of these “tactless” laity published a collection of their articles under the general title “Questions of Religion.”
While the pre-conciliar commission was dragging various “eclogues” out from under a pile of dust into the light of God, praising about the theory of the “five senses”, and being touched by the wisdom of Theodore Balsamon 1012, who cunningly wove Christ into one knot... with the Emperor Tiberius 1013, the “catechumen” laity took up more pressing issues. One article (by V. Sventsitsky) is devoted to the Christian attitude to power and violence, another (by S. Bulgakov) to the relationship of the Church to culture and the state, a third (V. Erna) to church revival, etc.
The topics are all prickly. And it cannot be said that they were interpreted peacefully and complacently. True, Balsamon and similar authorities do not play a role in their reasoning. They increasingly refer to one fairly common book, which the members of the pre-conciliar commission stubbornly avoid quoting. I'm talking about... the Gospel.
In essence, the members of the pre-conciliar commission act tactfully. The Gospel is very much incompatible with Balsamons, Justinians 1014, the death penalty and courts-martial...
In addition to theoretical articles, so to speak, the collection contains a most interesting biography of one Russian monk, Archimandrite Serapion (Moshkin), who died on February 20, 1905, in the Optina Desert. He was born in 1855, into a wealthy noble family. He received his education at the naval school. In 1876, he retired with the rank of midshipman and entered the Faculty of Natural Sciences as a volunteer, from which he graduated in 1884. Then Moshkin spent six years on Mount Athos. Returning from there, he entered the Moscow Theological Academy, and upon graduation was awarded the degree of candidate of theology. Since 1900, he lived in retirement in Optina Desert. In life he was a real ascetic. The author of the article about him, P. Florensky 1015, cites a number of facts that clearly illustrate the life, or rather the life, of this holy man. He somehow surprisingly combined a high culture of mind - he was an outstanding mathematician and left a great philosophical work - with Christian humility, with spiritual clarity and simplicity.
But leading a purely reclusive life, observing the strict monastic rules in every detail, working hard on his philosophical book, Fr. Serapion, at the same time, was keenly interested in the world and what was happening in it.
Here, for example, is what he wrote to Florensky on February 3, 1905, regarding the Moscow Theological Academy.
“The Academy is not a private person, but a public institution. And what may be permitted to a private person cannot be permitted to a public institution. Or perhaps our “fathers” view the academy as not a public institution, but a state one? In fact, what is it but betrayal of Jesus and retribution of “God’s things to Caesar”? Our “fathers” also render God’s gifts to Caesar. And they teach people this way. And it’s not difficult to be convinced that this is really the case: at least dig up the facts.” And further about. Serapion gives “facts.” “No, I do not agree to be a bishop,” he writes further, “and if they were offered, I would refuse: my conscience forbids me to be a policeman in the place of the shepherd of Christ’s sheep.”
It especially upsets the pious monk Fr. John of Kronstadt 1016. The collection contains two letters from Serapion to Fr. John, in which he powerfully denounces the medieval ideals of this popular priest. “You say,” he wrote on December 5, 1904, “that the press for a long time sought complete freedom and finally got through, that before it was often dissolute, but now it is more so. Let me ask you, what exactly do you call “the dissipation of the press”? Is this really the name you use to describe the desire of all the best people in Russia to remember the holy covenants of the great era of the reign of Emperor Alexander II, his liberation period? It cannot be that you can consider serfdom a Christian ideal.”
“On the one hand, freedom of speech, freedom of public opinion... on the other - the slavish silence of society, instead of life - only dead clerical delays and underground protests, angry because they are suppressed. Which side is Christ on? It’s clear as God’s day: on the first, because where the spirit of Christ is, there is freedom.”
One must read Florensky’s entire interesting article in order to appreciate the remarkable personality of this outstanding Orthodox monk. Naturally, he had to end his life “in retirement,” out of work.
Probably, the book “Questions of Religion” will not meet with sympathy in the official Church. The authors' Christian mood is too bright and does not fit within the framework of Orthodoxy. And, at the same time, the group of people who published the collection delude themselves with the illusion that their voice will be heard, and if the Church does not hear it, it will be solely “out of malice.” I think this is the greatest misconception. Orthodoxy has its own history and its own metaphysics, inherent only to it as a special form of historical Christianity. Demanding reform of Orthodoxy without taking into account its history and metaphysics is illogical. And if our Church, having listened to Bulgakov, Ern, Sventsitsky and others, had carried out all the reforms they demanded, the first of which was breaking its connection with absolutism, then it would cease to be Orthodox, just as the Catholic Church would become Lutheran if it followed Luther. Therefore, reform of Orthodoxy is impossible. Are the collaborators aware of this?
They make, from the church’s point of view, purely revolutionary demands, and they think that the Church can agree to them without abandoning itself. It is time, finally, to admit that historical Christianity does not have its own public, and if it comes out of the monastery into the world, then it fatally blesses Caesar, no matter whether in the form of Caesarism or the papacy.
Bulgakov and his comrades do not see this or do not want to see this. What they say can only be said by people who came out of this historical Church. Remaining inside it, they weaken themselves and come to the absurd. Therefore, no matter how noble the wishes of the participants in the collection, no matter how sincere their anger, their entire undertaking, it seems to me, will remain fruitless until they clearly and accurately clarify their attitude towards Orthodoxy. O. Serapion left the world, and one cannot help but see that he was Orthodox only as a monk, as an ascetic. His community was not church and, of course, not Orthodox. The same is essentially observed among the publishers of the collection. They suffer from compromises and, out of duty of religious conscience, call for the steady implementation of the covenants of Christ. This call, especially from Ern and Sventsitsky, sometimes sounds so sternly and with such authority that it resembles the long-familiar voice... of Father Matvey Rzhevsky, the same one who forced Gogol to burn the second part of “Dead Souls” 1017! Their ideal of personal holiness is the same as in Orthodoxy, i.e.
asceticism, but at the same time they are trying to create a theocratic ideal, that is, a religious community, and here they fundamentally disagree with the Church. Bulgakov wants to reconcile Orthodoxy and culture, so to speak, to squeeze culture into the Orthodox Church. But to what extent is this feasible? The famous “Syllabus” of Pius IX 1018, that Pope whom Renan 1019 ironically calls “genius,” very truly and accurately expresses the attitude of historical Christianity to humanism. In this “Syllabus” everything is cursed, and socialism, along with “Biblical societies” and “liberal Catholicism” 1020, is called a “plague” (sic!). Many were seduced by the encyclical of Leo XIII 1021 on the labor question (Rerum novarum), and the propaganda of so-called “Catholic socialism” began. But these are all illusions. If churches adapt to the “spirit of the times,” it is solely with the goal of using new weapons for the greater triumph of their reactionary ideals.
Sventsitsky himself rebels against “feuilleton”, as he says, Christianity, against the liberalization of our clergy. He considers this a "half-truth." His demands are much more radical. But if so, then how can he place his hopes on the reform of Orthodoxy, demand that it bless the liberation movement? There is some kind of gaping contradiction here. Individuals from the Orthodox Church, for example, Serapion, can do this, but the Church as a whole is completely incapable of this. In spite of everything, the “Syllabus” is a public profession de foi of both Catholicism and Orthodoxy. The famous message of the Synod after the ninth of January, or the recent pastoral letter of Metropolitan Anthony 1022, is a Russian illustration to the Catholic “Syllabus”.
How Bulgakov and his comrades do not realize this is beyond comprehension.
Either they are prophets of “universal” Christianity, and then they do not have the right to equate Christianity with the historical forms of its embodiment (Catholicism and Orthodoxy), or they are children of the Orthodox Church, then all their preaching is an illusion, and their hopes for a Church Council are completely fantastic.
When the Augustinian monk Luther began his struggle against the abuses of the Catholic Church, he was approximately in the same mood as Bulgakov and his companions. It is known how this struggle ended. Catholicism convened the Council of Trent in 1023, at which some already too tempting methods of the Church were streamlined, and Luther, anathematized, went his own way.
Our Council will, in all likelihood, be a second Trent. At best, it will reduce consistory bribery and drunkenness of village psalm-readers. And just as Russian society goes ahead on its own path, so Bulgakov and his comrades must go their own way to the end.
P.A. Berlin. Bulgakov S. N. Religion of man-deity in L. Feuerbach. 1024
M.: Free Conscience, 1906. 80 p. Ts. 30 kopecks.
Several years ago, Mr. Bulgakov undertook, as we know, an extremely long journey “from Marxism to idealism.” The author accomplished this long journey with remarkable speed and courage, leaving Jules Verne’s “Around the World in 80 Days” far behind him. 1025 This long journey, however, apparently did not tire our author, and he set off on a new long voyage - and, probably, the book market will soon be enriched by his new travel diary “From Idealism to the Sarov Desert” 1026, which, together with what he published, will form an interesting description of the journey “From Marxism to the Sarov Desert”.
It would seem that our author has managed to move so far away from his point of departure, Marxism, that it is time for him to forget about it, but the author constantly looks back angrily at it. Lately, Mr. Bulgakov has specialized in pestering various famous people with the question “How do you believe?”
In the lordly magazine-mansion of Prince. E. Trubetskoy “Moscow Weekly” Mr. Bulgakov pestered K. Marx with this question for several issues (see: Karl Marx as a religious type // Moscow Weekly. No. 21, 22, 23). In the above-mentioned pamphlet, the author interrogates Ludwig Feuerbach 1027 on this issue, and again keeps his eyes on Marxism all the time. The author quite rightly points out the enormous influence that Feuerbach had on Marx and Engels. This indication is nothing new either for Marxist or anti-Marxist literature; in Marxist literature we have an authentic indication of this from Engels in the famous book. “Ludwig Feuerbach”, and in anti-Marxist literature the influence of Feuerbach was emphasized by Pr. Massaryk 1028. Prof. looks at this issue differently. Bulgakov. Pointing out that Engels recognized the influence of Feuerbach only in the early era of the development of Marxism, Mr. Bulgakov adds that now “this connection of ideas is very weakly recognized or not even recognized at all by participants in the modern Social Democratic movement” (p. 11).
This statement by Mr. Bulgakov is completely unfounded. Let me point out that in the article “On the Question of the Significance of Hegel’s Philosophy for the Fundamental Propositions of Marxism,” which we published six years ago in the late Life, we spoke in detail about the “strong influence that came from the philosophy of Feuerbach.” In the book “Germany on the Eve of the Revolution of 1848” (St. Petersburg, 1906) we again dwelt in detail on the enormous influence that Feuerbach had on Marx and Engels. Thus, Mr. Bulgakov is completely in vain to think that he is opening up some kind of America for “participants in the modern social-democratic movement” by his indication of the influence of Feuerbach on Marx.
But, of course, no “participant in the modern social-democratic movement” nor his opponent had to reach such absurdities regarding the significance of Feuerbach for Marxism that Mr. Bulgakov agreed to. This absurdity already constitutes the unconditional and undeniable originality of Mr. Bulgakov.
With the passion for gambling inherent in his mind, Mr. Bulgakov asserts no more and no less that “even a digested reading of all three volumes of Capital does not give such an idea of the basic spirit - spiritus rector 1029 - of Marxism as acquaintance with Feuerbach” (p. 11). Having expressed this absurd thought, the author becomes excited and goes so far as to assert that “Feuerbach is to a much greater extent the spiritual father of Marxism than Marx himself, who gave only flesh for Feuerbach’s ideas” (p. 11).
Having expressed this certainly original absurdity, Mr. Bulgakov proceeds to analyze the “religion of man-divinity in L. Feuerbach.” While presenting and criticizing the philosophy of Feuerbach, our author always uses this philosophy only as a target for criticism of the positive worldview. The author considers Feuerbach's philosophy as the highest product, as the highest level of humanitarianism, the "religion of humanity" and, proving the inconsistency and inconsistency of Feuerbach's philosophy, the author believes that he thereby overthrew "all positivism, since Feuerbach expressed everything that can be said in defense of positivism." Addressing Feuerbach’s “religion of humanity,” Mr. Bulgakov writes: “But here, as in other cases, he is doomed to fight with himself; to chase the fleeing ghost.
The unity of humanity - not abstract, but real, essential - he wants to rest solely on empirical reality, but this ground is constantly slipping from under his feet, because in its empirical existence humanity is not united, unity exists here for him only as a task, more precisely, as a norm or ideal, which never completely passes into reality and is not realized in it” (p. 68).
Since we are talking about Feuerbach, Mr. Bulgakov's remark regarding inconsistency is quite fair. But if Mr. Bulgakov, instead of asserting that Marx and Engels “in religious and philosophical terms, both of them are students of Feuerbach and, moreover, unoriginal students who, for their part, only withered the doctrine of the teacher” (p. 9), - if instead of such statements, Mr. Bulgakov had bothered to think about the critical remarks made by Marx about Feuerbach, then he would have been convinced that Marx more than half a century ago, Feuerbach pointed out this inconsistency and eliminated it. In several “theses” outlined by Marx in Brussels in 1845 and, unfortunately, not further developed, Marx writes: “Feuerbach explains the essence of religion by the essence of man. But the essence of a person is not at all an abstract characteristic of an individual. In reality, it is the totality of all social relations.
Feuerbach does not go so far as to criticize this real essence. Therefore, he finds himself forced:
1 Abstract from the course of historical development, consider religious feeling as something completely separate and unconnected with anything, and proceed from the assumption of an abstract - isolated - human individual.
2 Therefore, the human essence could only appear to him as a “genus,” that is, as an internal, silent community that establishes only a natural connection between many individuals.
Therefore, Feuerbach does not see that “religious feeling” itself is a social product, that the abstract individual he analyzes actually belongs to a certain form of society” (see: Engels F. Ludwig Feuerbach / Translated from the foreword and notes by G.V. Plekhanov. St. Petersburg: Lvovich Publishing House, 1906. P. 92).
We know perfectly well that Mr. Bulgakov, from his idealistic tower, will treat these words of Marx with a contemptuous smile, but we believe that from these words he will see that within the limits of positivism, Marx eliminated the contradiction that Mr. Bulgakov triumphantly pointed out in Feuerbach (see more about this in our book “Germany on the eve of 1848.” Chapter devoted to the genesis of Marxism. St. Petersburg: Lvovich Publishing House, 1906).
Marx replaced Feuerbach's abstract “humanity” with a specific social group, and that sense of responsibility for all humanity, the feeling of solidarity with it, which Mr. Bulgakov speaks of, is concretized in Marx into a sense of responsibility and a sense of solidarity only in relation to a specific social group.
Mr. Bulgakov writes: “After all, for some reason I feel guilty both in the Russo-Japanese War and in the Tsushima disaster - then I have to involuntarily admit that, in addition to the personal responsibility of the individual for his individual actions, there is also a family conscience, a native sensitivity, not fictitious, but a real universal consciousness that lives in every individual. His voice may be more or less intelligible, sometimes and even often completely muffled, but it is there, this enigmatic, mysterious voice, and it says: everyone is to blame for everyone and is to blame for everything, humanity is united and solidary, and in this single and living whole there is no possibility of drawing a line where the guilt of one or the other ends” (p. 67).
We dare to assure Mr. Bulgakov that “empirical humanity” is excellent at drawing “the line where the guilt of one or the other ends,” and precisely, as Marx showed, with the help of a “social man” - a person belonging to a well-known social group.
N.A. Berdyaev. Prof. S.N. Bulgakov. Karl Marx as a religious type 1030 (from studies on the religion of man-deity)
Ed. D. E. Zhukovsky. St. Petersburg, 1907. P. 55. Ts. 2 5 kopecks.
S. N. Bulgakov is a former Marxist who experienced a crisis, which he himself characterized in the title of the collection “from Marxism to idealism,” and who found a way out of his crisis in the Christian faith. Over the course of his long journey, Bulgakov lived by his ideas, and everything that he wrote had a life interest, not an academic one. The attempt to understand Marx's religious psychology is especially interesting when it is undertaken by a former Marxist and a current Christian. Bulgakov proceeds from the fact that “to determine the real religious center in a person, to find his true spiritual core - this means to find out the most intimate and important things about him, after which everything external and derivative will be clear. In this sense, we can talk about religion in every person, equally in the religiously naive and in the consciously denying any specific form of religiosity.” Therefore, Bulgakov considers it possible to consider Marx, who consciously denies any religion, from a religious point of view.
And he also applies to socialism, which at first glance seems to be a phenomenon that has nothing to do with religion. “The mute and passive historical flesh of socialism can be inspired by different spirits and, originally belonging to the kingdom of light, is capable of becoming the prey of darkness.” Bulgakov's main idea is that Marx put the stamp of his spirit on the socialist movement, which was neutral in a religious sense, and that was the stamp of militant atheism, it was an anti-religious and anti-Christian spirit.
Bulgakov used existing biographical materials to characterize Marx's personality. Marx was an unpleasant person, there was something unkind in him, this can be felt in his writings and is confirmed by the data of his biography. Imperious self-assertion is Marx’s main feature; disdain for human individuality is another of his features, which gave a special color to all of Marxism. Marx's heart was full of hatred and malice. Marxism wants to create a good future out of evil feelings. According to Bulgakov, Marx belongs to the number of people who are internally alien to tragedy, incapable of even understanding the religious problem born of the tragedy of individual fate. Marx was not an atheist like Ivan Karamazov, atheism was not torment and horror for him, he is a self-satisfied atheist who strives to “cure people from religious madness, from spiritual slavery.” And this atheism, this fight against religion and Christianity was, according to Bulgakov, the soul of his activity and inspired his entire theory.
After a general description of Marx’s personality, Bulgakov explores the ideological roots of his worldview. He resolutely denies Marx's connection with Hegel and asserts a connection with Feuerbach. “There is no continuity between German classical idealism and Marxism.” Bulgakov's statement can hardly be accepted in such a decisive form. Marx was not a philosopher and did not have a deep philosophical education, but his worldview is closely related to Hegelian panlogism. Marxism logicizes matter, believes in the rationality of the material process. Dialectical materialism is one of the most monstrous philosophical compounds, but this panlogical nature of the material process, the logical-dialectical nature of the development of material productive forces, constitutes the soul of Marxism. Marx was a passionate rationalist, a materialistic rationalist, and in this he received a lot from Hegel, but he belittled Hegel’s great mind, turned it into a small one. The great aspirations and traditions of German idealism in Marxism were not realized, but died, were cut short.
But the limit of rationalism that was reached in Hegelianism became the starting point of Marxism. Marxian voluntarism breathes rationalism and believes in the rationality of the material and social process. Marx and Hegel are spiritually related to the rationalistic schematization of world history and the logicalization of material life. In his philosophical spirit, Hegel is many heads higher than Marx; the breath of eternal idealism is felt in him, but the hopelessness of Hegelianism, which has lost its real substrate, found one of its outcomes in Marx’s panlogical materialism 1031. Bulgakov so decisively rejects any connection between Marx and Hegel because he based his explanation of Marx’s religious psychology on the thought: “Marx is a Feuerbachian.” The main theme of Feuerbach’s philosophy “is the denial of the religion of God-manhood in the name of the religion of man-divinity, the atheistic militant atheism. It was precisely this motive that had the greatest resonance in Marx’s soul.”
But the “arrogant, self-affirming soul of Marx” was not characterized by the peculiar “piety” of Feuerbach. With a series of quotes, Bulgakov proves that for Marx “human emancipation” means liberation from religion. “The work of philosophy - that is, the teaching of Feuerbach, namely the theoretical liberation of humanity from religion - and the work of the proletariat are united here into one whole - the proletariat is entrusted with the mission of the historical implementation of the cause of atheism, that is, the practical liberation of man from religion. This is where the real Marx is, this is where the real “secret” of Marxism, its true nature, is revealed!” Bulgakov rightly suspects the sincerity of the Social Democratic Party’s programmatic position that “religion is a private matter.” This is just tactical hypocrisy. In fact, social democracy is inspired by the atheistic spirit of Marx, who valued the liberation of man from all religion. “Marxism is only a special case of Feuerbachianism, its special sociological formula,” i.e.
a special case of militant atheism, a sociological way of the victory of atheism. “Marx’s personal influence in the socialist movement was reflected most of all precisely by the strengthening of that anti-religious, God-fighting element that is raging in it, as in our entire culture, and which will not say its last word, will not receive a completely adequate and personal, but already final embodiment.” Bulgakov sees that “in socialism, as in the entire line of our culture, there is a struggle between Christ and Antichrist.” The spirit of Marx strengthens that line of this movement, which must lead to the final incarnation of the Antichrist. Bulgakov saw this dark side of Marx’s spirit “after many years of intense peering into the spiritual face of Marx.” The path that Bulgakov traveled gave him the opportunity to see that the face of Marx, one of the most powerful people of the 19th century, was “mysteriously and terribly double.” It was truly his moral duty to tell what Bulgakov saw, since the most terrible evil is that which has the guise of good.
But Bulgakov attaches too much importance to the connection between Marx and Feuerbach and depends too much on this connection for the proof of his thesis that Marx was inspired by atheistic atheism. Bulgakov himself admits that Marx’s atheism differs from Feuerbach’s atheism, that in Feuerbach there is not that evil spirit that is in Marx. Marx's connection with Feuerbach religiously compromises not so much the former as the latter. There may be movements in different directions from Feuerbach, and not all the limits of movements are as sinister as Marx and Marxism. Marx's militant atheism, his deep hatred of religion and Christianity, of the very idea of God could be shown by a psychological analysis of the essence of Marxism and the spirit of Marx. Bulgakov himself sensed the religiously evil in Marx, having lived through and experienced Marxism, and then historically connected Marx with Feuerbach. Bulgakov's theme is not so much historical as psychological.
Bulgakov’s brochure has a different subtitle: “From studies on the religion of man-deity” and is directly related to his other work, “The Religion of Man-Deity in L. Feuerbach.” The connection between these two themes left too much of an imprint on the study of Marx. Marx would have been a militant atheist even if he had not been a student of Feuerbach. He was overwhelmed by the atmosphere of human self-deification, and he became its powerful exponent. Bulgakov's work helps to understand the spiritual essence of Marxism, and one should wish it to spread.
A.A. Kiesewetter. About the collection “Milestones” 1032
The small collection “Vekhi” caused a lot of noise in the press and society. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed on the horizon of journalism. One meeting of fairly adult people even passed a special resolution expressing censure and severe reprimand to Vekhi for its disrespectful attitude towards the intelligentsia. All this indicates in the best possible way that “Vekhi” hit some sore spot in our modern times, raised questions that are truly urgent, acute and painful for many.
I think that this is the undoubted journalistic merit of the authors of the collection. In Russian society, there is a fairly widespread opinion that the issues that are most burning, most disturbing to the consciousness, should be spoken about as little as possible publicly; any loud talk breeds disagreement and, therefore, harms the “common cause” - this is the consideration by virtue of which we often voluntarily impose a taboo on the discussion of topics that especially need comprehensive coverage.
We are afraid that our speeches will immediately be subject to a false interpretation by the enemies of our dear convictions, and in order to avoid such trouble, we prefer to keep to ourselves what our thoughts are most strongly drawn to. Isn't this approach wrong? Is it not in an atmosphere of silence that the ability for mutual understanding is lost and fatal misunderstandings unhindered, remaining unresolved only because they were not expressed?
And look with what passion everyone attacks the discussion of issues that “were not customary to talk about” - as soon as some daredevil unexpectedly breaks the seal of universal silence. Usually everyone showers such a daredevil with reproaches for raising an inconvenient and sensitive topic, and behind these reproaches, accompanied by a heated discussion of the topic raised, one feels a general desire to finally express everything that has been silently accumulating in lonely thoughts for so long.
“Vekhi” touched upon a number of issues that we had all kept very quiet about before. And that’s why everyone started talking about “Vekhi”, and that’s why these conversations immediately took on such a passionate character. The first, almost involuntary movement made by criticism when Vekhi appeared was aimed at somehow quickly brushing aside this daring book, which burst with sudden dissonance into the measured and well-regulated murmur of ordinary conversations on social topics. As if awakened from a peaceful sleep by the sting of a bumblebee, the critic frightenedly waved her arms in all directions at once, not noticing that her blows were thrown through the air and therefore completely aimless. In fact, due to excessive haste and excessive excitement, the critics first of all began to defend positions that the authors of the daring collection themselves did not even think of denying.
In the first large newspaper article about “Vekhi” it was stated that the shortcomings of the Russian intelligentsia noted in the collection are indeed inherent in the latter, but that these shortcomings cannot be exposed, because they have their own reasons. The authors of “Vekhi” present a severe indictment of the Russian intelligentsia, but have they thought about the historical conditions in which Russian society had to exist and which inevitably had to give rise to everything that is the subject of attack by the newly-minted strict judges of the Russian intelligentsia? This was the first printed rebuke to Vekham.
“I admit, she surprised me. Is it possible that by denouncing a phenomenon, we thereby recognize it as uncaused? And does a reminder of the conditions that caused this or that undesirable fact already deprive us of grounds to criticize it? There cannot be two answers to these questions, and therefore the first blow of criticism directed at Vekhi undoubtedly fell not on the collection, but in the air. These types of accusatory arguments are usually put forward at trial by defendants' defense attorneys in cases where guilt is no longer in doubt, but there is hope to find mitigating circumstances. And it is no coincidence that the critic who put forward this argument based his entire article on likening “Vekhi” to the judicial speech of the prosecutor, choosing himself as the defender of the accused intelligentsia. I am ready to agree that in the face of prosecutorial authorities calling for criminal penalties, one can and should be reminded of the external circumstances that pushed the defendant to commit criminal acts and in other cases lower the degree of his personal sanity and responsibility.
But are the prosecutor’s Peruns heard from the pages of Vekhi? Do they threaten you with punishment, do they shake you with volumes of the criminal code? I think that the criticism, again due to haste and excitement of feelings, was greatly mistaken.
Opening the collection “Vekhi” for the first time after reading the above-mentioned article, I began reading it with such a feeling as if I had to enter a terrible courtroom with a mirror, gendarmes at the dock and a whole horde of sternly adamant prosecutors. Imagine my surprise when, instead of the clanging of gendarmerie sabers, I heard the clanking of censers, instead of the smell of government sealing wax, the smell of incense reached me, and instead of the prosecutor’s faces, either mournfully crying or inspiredly inflamed faces of preachers appeared before me?
It was clear: I ended up not in the district court or in the judicial chamber, but in the confessional chapel; here they did not accuse, but denounced; they called not for hard labor, but for repentance. Another thing became clear: before such a tribunal there is no need for legal services: for if the goal of the prosecutor is to settle scores with the past, then the goal of the preacher is to build the future and to prepare for this future and call the lost sheep of his flock. Don’t tell the preacher that the evils he denounced had their own reasons and mitigating circumstances. He knows all this as well as you. But for his special purpose he has absolutely nothing to do with these mitigating circumstances. The prosecutor may reduce the punishment because of them. But the preacher at all costs must portray sin in all its terrible gloom, without any mitigation, for only by crucifying sin (do not be afraid: the preachers of “Vekhi” crucify not with nails, but with eloquent prose), he will prepare the sinner for the feat.
Following the indication of the reasons for the shortcomings of the intelligentsia and the mitigating circumstances for their guilt, reproaches of a different kind fell upon the compilers of Vekhi. Whatever the intelligentsia, criticizing it is sinful and unacceptable for those who themselves came from its ranks. Intellectual criticism of the intelligentsia is a beating inflicted on one’s own mother. Terrible words! But why are these terrible words not scary at all? It's not difficult to explain. Pathetic exclamations are strong only when they contain a logically correct thought. Pathos without logic is only funny. And here logic, one might say, breaks down at every step. You demand from the intellectual filial obedience to the precepts of the intellectual tradition. But isn’t, according to this very tradition, freedom of criticism the most life-giving factor in all success? Isn’t, according to this very tradition, everything that is artificially protected from the touch of free criticism is not thereby doomed to inevitable decay, is not given over to mold and death?
But if this is so, then why do you want to doom your so revered mother to such a fate, placing the Russian intelligentsia beyond the reach of free criticism, making of it an idol, before which you can only prostrate yourself and smoke incense? Since when did the defenders of intellectual traditions identify criticism with insolence and a violation of public peace? Only an extreme loss of mental balance can, we think, explain this curious fact that appears in the polemics about “Vekhi”; opponents of “Vekhi” said things that should be recognized as complete heresy, primarily from the point of view of their own worldview. The idea of the inadmissibility of criticism of the Russian intelligentsia, first expressed in a newspaper article in the pathetic form indicated above, found an echo in the oral conversation of that circle, which staged a “trial of “Vekhi”” at one of its meetings, which was later described in the newspapers.
Here, not so much in a pathetic, but in a state-bureaucratic form, they directly asked: “Who gave the authors of “Vekhi” the right to criticize the Russian intelligentsia?” Unfortunately, it is not clear from the newspapers whether it was then indicated to which institution and in what form petitions for permission to write about the Russian intelligentsia should be submitted.
Why shouldn’t we reflect and talk about the shortcomings of the Russian intelligentsia? Is it because she has no flaws? But even the sun has spots... Yes, Vekhi critics answer this, but by pointing out the shortcomings of the intelligentsia, you undermine faith in its strength and thereby contribute to the strengthening of public apathy and insanity. Here is another argument with which we cannot agree.
Who believes more in the strength of the intelligentsia - the one who is afraid of the very conversation about its shortcomings and prefers in this matter the official formula “everything is fine”, so dear to bureaucratic hearts, or the one who turns to the intelligentsia with accusatory words, calling on it to improve? Will the preacher reprove those in whose rebirth he does not believe? The very passion of his denunciations always proves the strength of his faith 1033. But the campaign against criticism, the fear of washing dirty linen in public, the desire to throw a pink veil over everything, persistence in a conspiracy of silence regarding what needs to be corrected, the replacement of self-criticism with narcissism - these are the dangerous seeds of flabbiness and decay. We are so good at castigating all these weaknesses in our bureaucracy, and suddenly it turns out that in relation to ourselves these weaknesses should be considered a virtue!
We consider this entire polemic against Vekhi to be fundamentally wrong. “Vekhi” raises questions of paramount importance. The views developed in the articles in this collection raise many objections and require more careful analysis, the more important the issues raised by them. And instead of such an analysis, the “defenders” of the intelligentsia present us with such truly unexpected statements from the lips of the intelligentsia as a denial of freedom of criticism and an apology for self-praise. I believe in the beneficial power of criticism, no matter what it is applied to, and in the name of this faith I welcome “Vekhi” as the honest voice of convinced people who are accustomed to fighting not for idols, but for ideals.
And it is precisely for this reason that I feel the need to argue with the compilers of “Vekhi” on many of the main points developed in their articles. In this note I cannot exhaust all the objections that I would have to make to Vekham. And therefore, let the readers not think that I agree with everything that I have to keep silent about. I would like to dwell first of all only on what has in my eyes the most vital, practical significance. A major merit of the collection seems to me to be a clear and apt indication of those shortcomings of our intelligentsia that prevent it from developing true fire resistance in the struggle of life.
Expressively outlined in the articles of Bulgakov and Gershenzon are such features as a penchant for armchair doctrinaire, spiritual maximalism divorced from life, sectarian aggravated intolerance to other people’s opinions, revolutionary romance combined with instability in the struggle for specific, achievable life goals, phrase-based heroism in speeches and plans and a rapid cooling towards the intended goals, as soon as the impossibility of immediately achieving is revealed them in their entirety - is all this fiction, and not genuine phenomena of our reality, so familiar to us from life observations? By denying the authenticity of these phenomena and persistently proclaiming the dubious thesis that our intelligentsia is above any reproaches, we will not convince anyone and will only become like the bureaucracy that we so deservedly denounce, which, in response to all indications of criticism, has long resorted to an indiscriminate denial of well-known facts. Instead of keeping silent about diseases, it is better to carefully diagnose them and establish treatment methods.
This is where I most fundamentally disagree with many of the authors of Vekhi. But their diagnosis is deeply flawed, and their prescriptions are more than questionable.
What can you do to overcome the above disadvantages? “To the Church,” answers Bulgakov; “towards self-deepening and merging with the people,” says Gershenzon. Let's take a look at these recipes.
Bulgakov's sermon is simple and uncomplicated. At the heart of all the shortcomings of the intelligentsia lies the beginning of human “self-deification”, the beginning of “heroic self-affirmation”, which then gives rise to such traits as “arrogance and conceit, consciousness of one’s infallibility and disdain for dissenters and this abstract dogmatism into which every teaching is cast here,” as well as “the inaccessibility of the intelligentsia to the arguments of historical realism and scientific knowledge.” All these shortcomings can be healed only in one way - by assimilating Christian morality and subordinating one’s spirit to church discipline. Only then will “self-deification” be replaced by a “sense of sin” and “Christian humility”, which precisely carry with them the traits so lacking in our intelligentsia: self-control, self-discipline, endurance and endurance, the ability to real self-denial in the name of higher goals, not in the form of quickly burning out ecstasy, but in the form of constant, persistent and calm asceticism, the steadfastness of which cannot help but be broken external forces.
Only the religious-practical idea of “obedience,” a kind of secular asceticism, the habit of fulfilling a social duty like bearing a cross placed by Providence on a person’s shoulders, can serve as a solid basis for the development of a strong personality, sufficiently tempered for the struggle of life and at the same time able to balance their individual aspirations with the requirements of the common good. Bulgakov's entire article is essentially built on this psychological opposition of two social types: the hero and the ascetic. This psychological antithesis was carried out by Bulgakov with great literary talent and, when read, can therefore bring considerable aesthetic pleasure. However, the literary beauty of this image does not give it internal credibility. The type of religious ascetic is quite well known, and one cannot help but admit that in Bulgakov’s depiction he was heavily retouched.
As soon as we introduce the real historical features of the named type into the psychological lace woven by our author, it immediately becomes clear how carefully we should treat the tempting promises of the eloquent preacher. He promises us in the person of his ascetics people who know how to temper the straightforwardness of their aspirations with an awareness of their responsibility and a sense of the real needs of life. He only forgets to add that this will be a responsibility to the dictates of the religious ideal, which by its very essence brings to the fore a purely maximalist challenge to earthly reality: one of two things - either life must unconditionally and completely capitulate to the religious ascetic, or, if possible, the religious ascetic himself will turn away from life, brand it as an accumulation of sin and temptation and proudly withdraw into his mountain solitude.
The first presupposes militant fanaticism, the second gives rise to fanatical asceticism; both represent true spiritual maximalism only in its two different manifestations. And since the subordination of the rich diversity of reality to an obligatory scheme, even of a religious nature, is impossible, then the most natural outcome of religious asceticism is, in the final analysis, an escape from the rebellious world, which “lies all in evil.” 1034 This is what history tells about, and it is not her fault if the image of Bulgakov does not coincide with her testimony. True, various church organizations more or less successfully establish peculiar compromises between the unyielding demands of the religious ideal and patient service to temporary earthly tasks. But this is no longer a matter of religion, but of the Church - a matter whose success always depends on some compliance in an area that, by its very idea, cannot tolerate any concessions.
But in those cases when religious asceticism unfolds in all its breadth and freedom, not restrained by the bridle of small adaptations to tasks alien to its spirit; when his inner nature appears before us without any cover, then it becomes clear how deeply related this nature is to everything that Bulgakov himself rebels against. As has already been said, Bulgakov spent a lot of eloquence contrasting the atheistic heroism of the intelligentsia with asceticism inspired by a religious ideal. But when he wanted to find the most suitable historical analogy for the modern struggle of our intellectual parties, a comparison somehow came naturally to his pen... with the religious struggle of the Reformation era! “Our distinction between right and left is different in that,” writes Bulgakov (Vekhi. p. 65), “that it is more similar to the division of Catholics and Protestants, with the religious wars that followed during the Reformation, than to political parties.”
Has the author crossed out with these lines a good half of what he himself wrote down in his eloquent essay? Temptingly depicting his ideal of religious asceticism, he seems to be calling us to new blessed countries. But don't rush to follow him without looking at p. 65 of his essays; there you will see that, having circled the equator with you, your guide will lead you again to the very place from where you started.
Let us assume, however, that for people of a certain mental disposition, Bulgakov’s recipe turns out to be the most suitable, the most health-improving. Does this mean that everyone who does not belong to Bulgakov’s chosen flock, who is incapable of perceiving religious sentiments, is hopelessly doomed to the above-mentioned shortcomings? I think not; I think that there is another way to this goal and this way consists in increased and conscious participation in practical social work. Here I will have to reckon with not only Bulgakov, but, perhaps to an even greater extent, with Gershenzon. M. O. Gershenzon, formulating approximately the same way as Bulgakov, the negative traits of the Russian intelligentsia, sees their main root in the extremely one-sided direction of our spiritual aspirations, in our exaggerated interest in issues of external social order and in complete inattention to the internal demands of the spirit. “A Russian intellectual is, first of all, a person who, from a young age, lives outside himself, in the literal sense of the word, i.e.
recognizing the only worthy object of his interest and participation is something that lies outside the personality - the people, society, state... thinking about one’s personality is selfishness, obscenity; a real person is only one who thinks about the public, is interested in public issues, works for the common good... And so people have become completely accustomed to this state of affairs, and the thought does not occur to anyone that it is impossible for a person to live forever outside, that this is precisely why we are subjectively sick and powerless in our actions (Vekhi. pp. 70–71). And if S. N. Bulgakov calls an intellectual to heal his mental illnesses under the roof of a church church, then M. O. Gershenzon calls him to the church of his own spirit, invites him to self-deepening, to work on personal improvement, for only a self-focused personality represents a major force that can contribute through its influence to the rise of the general level of human culture.
Who will deny the validity of the last conclusion? But, it seems to me, something happened to Gershenzon that often threatens too ardent preachers, who, carried away by the sounds of their own speech, sometimes completely forget about their audience, starting, for example, to preach about the dangers of gluttony in front of a crowd of hungry people; it is not surprising if in these cases the most outstanding oratorical talent does not save the preacher from complete fiasco. After listening to Gershenzon, one might think that the Russian intelligentsia almost entirely consists of either some highly experienced businessmen in the American style, or political figures who spend their entire lives in the arena of social struggle, which does not leave them a single minute of leisure to think about the highest problems of individual existence and personal morality.
One can truly say: “Who are they painting portraits of?” In fact, it would do well for our denouncers to specify specific indications of the objects of their denunciations. Without doing this, they cannot avoid a lot of confusion.
Who are these Russian intellectuals living “outside”? – M. O. Gershenzon defines them primarily as “Chekhov’s people”, who, in the words of Gershenzon himself, “simply smoked the sky, not daring, and not even knowing how to enter into themselves or even just live at ease” (Vekhi. P. 83). The link is not a successful one, because “people who smoke the sky” not only do not live “within themselves,” but generally do not lead any kind of conscious and planned existence. Let us assume that “Chekhov’s people” did not engage in thoughtful introspection. But is it really possible to point to them as people who fill their lives with vigorous social work or constant reflection on the problems of social reforms? Are these really fanatics of the public cause against whom Gershenzon is arming himself? Obviously not. One can even say that in that sluggish prostration that was the lot of “Chekhov’s people,” they were much more often left alone with their own spiritual personality rather than forgetting themselves in the whirlpool of social work.
When struggling with the foundations of the intelligentsia's worldview, our accusers, of course, must keep in mind, first of all, the spiritual leaders of our intelligentsia and the main currents of intelligentsia's thought coming from them, and not at all this ordinary backwater of the intelligentsia's world, on which Chekhov loved to shine the rays of his wondrous talent. But is Gershenzon’s characterization applicable to major trends in the life of our present intelligentsia? – Did our real intelligentsia really not like to look “inward” and directed everything and their thoughts “outward”? Gershenzon could have learned a lot of truth about this from his neighbor in the collection B. A. Kistyakovsky 1035, whose excellent article cuts through, like a stream of fresh air, the clouds of incense that have thickened on the pages of “Vekhi”.
“The Russian intelligentsia,” writes B. A. Kistyakovsky, “has always recognized that all social development depends on the position the individual occupies. Therefore, even a change in social trends in our country is characterized by the replacement of one formula concerning the individual with another. One after another, we put forward formulas: a critically thinking, conscious, comprehensively developed, self-improving, ethical, religious and revolutionary personality. There were also opposing currents that sought to drown the individual in the public interest, declaring the individual quantité negligeable 1036 and defending the conciliar personality. Finally, Nietzscheanism, Stirnerism 1037 and anarchism put forward new slogans of a self-sufficient personality, an egoistic personality and a superpersonality. It is difficult to find a more versatile and rich development of the ideal of personality...” (my italics – A.K.).
And only one gap is noted by the venerable author in all this development: the consciousness of the Russian intelligentsia never put forward that ideal of the individual, which should have come forward primarily under the condition of a predominant interest in issues of external social order, namely, the ideal of a legal personality! (see: Milestones. P. 104).
We cannot help but suggest that Gershenzon dwell longer on the just-cited page of the collection he edited. He will see from here how incorrect the diagram he sketched for the development of Russian intellectual thought is. Just contrary to Gershenzon’s statements, it was not an excess, but a terrible lack of lively social work and complete unfamiliarity with it that gave rise to all the typical traits of a Russian intellectual, which are marked by “Vekhi” and to which there is no need to turn a blind eye. Too much monastic isolation from real reality, too much fussing with one’s personal feelings to the detriment of a lively and practically directed interest in social work - this is what nurtured in the intellectual psyche both doctrinaire straightforwardness, sectarian intolerance and an attitude towards personal heroism not so much as a means of conquering the common good, but as a self-sufficient goal.
It is completely in vain that Gershenzon asserts that the thoughts of the Russian intelligentsia, represented by its major representatives, have always been primarily aimed at the problems of the external social order, and not at the problems of individual spiritual improvement. This statement of our author is nothing more than the result of a kind of optical illusion. There is no need for the spiritual leaders of the intelligentsia to be primarily concerned with social issues; the question is how did they approach these stories? The greatest strides in the development of our intellectual thought consisted precisely in the constant desire to reduce public issues to issues of personal morality. Social work was of interest not so much as a way to improve the community, but as a means of exercising and discovering one’s personal spiritual virtues.
Just as the ancient Russian philanthropist gave out alms not in order to destroy the poor, but in order, taking advantage of the existence of begging, to earn his own spiritual salvation through acts of charity, in the same way the Russian intelligentsia became accustomed to being interested in public affairs not so much from the point of view of the opportunity to achieve lasting tangible results for this very cause, but from the point of view of the opportunity to discover their personal valor, their personal heroism. This is the result of the fact that we are accustomed to looking inside ourselves with a much more loving gaze than around ourselves. Gershenzon does not like the fact that problems of the public good completely crowd out the problem of personal morality from our mental everyday life. But he completely overlooked the important phenomenon we noted: the very problem of the public good is often almost completely reduced by us to the problem of personal heroism.
That is why we have such little interest in molecular, consistent, everyday social work, despite all its enormous importance and necessity in the interests of society, and in large public affairs that can inflame us, we are so light-hearted that we are ready to risk the final outcome of the whole matter, just not to miss the opportunity to lose our own soul in acts of personal courage and personal self-sacrifice. Isn’t it the source of all such phenomena that we are still too little accustomed to considering ourselves members of a social whole, that the issues of our personal spiritual life are always in the foreground for us in everything.
And if Gershenzon had looked carefully at the history of our social worldviews and mental trends, he would have seen that this replacement of social issues with questions of personal self-improvement constitutes a long-standing tradition of our intelligentsia, much more tenacious and widespread than it seems at first glance: Mikhailovsky and his school, in essence, belong here no less than Leo Tolstoy and the Tolstoyans. Personal education is a great thing, and together with the authors of Vekhi, I recognize it as the cornerstone of the social process. But I cannot rid myself of the conviction that active work in the social field, constant participation in arranging the “external” conditions of our existence is a necessary element in the program of this education, the shortcomings of which in our country are explained precisely by the fact that as workers in public affairs we are still too inexperienced debutants.
And when, in the form of a recipe for healing our shortcomings, we are credited with distinguishing individual spiritual needs from social work, when we are called “inside ourselves” - it becomes clear to me that in the form of a medicine we are presented with the very drink, the excessive use of which has weakened our spiritual organism. We know how to confess to ourselves perfectly well - in the absence of a positive deed, we have long been learning this art, but practically and expediently applying the results of these confessions for the real benefit of ourselves and our fellow citizens - this is an art that we have yet to acquire and which is acquired not in the confessional and not in mountain solitudes, but among people, in the turmoil of life's struggle, at the cost of practical experience, inseparable from mistakes and disappointments, but able to rewarding these disappointments with subsequent successes and bringing real strength to the moral strength of the individual spirit.
It is difficult to understand how the authors of the analyzed articles, so inclined to subtle psychological analysis, lose sight of the fact that the shortcomings of the Russian intelligentsia that confuse them - doctrinairism, intolerance, spiritual maximalism - are cultivated precisely in an atmosphere of isolation from public affairs, with a too one-sided direction of the spiritual gaze “inward” and, on the contrary, only in a living collision with reality they find their corrective.
"Vekhi" will do a considerable service to Russian society if it encourages it to reflect on its shortcomings. But the fruits of this reflection are unlikely to coincide with the conclusions and calls of our preachers. Life, which always triumphs over invented schemes, will take its toll and teach that the education of the individual is unthinkable without continuous external and social-organizational manifestation of its internal work.
S.A. Askoldov. Sergei Bulgakov. Two hail. An Inquiry into the Nature of Social Ideals 1038
T. I–II. M.: Book publishing house “Put”, 1911
The articles of S. N. Bulgakov, united by the above title, serve to clarify the principles and psychology of two opposing types of society - one built on the religion of man-divinity, and the other, on the religion of god-manhood. Humanity as such is the common beginning of these two cultures, two cities under construction, which in their final stages strive for opposite goals - union with God and final falling away from Him. Humanism is that middle area where the principles of Christ and Antichrist are most mixed with each other, most easily replace one another, and where there is the greatest opportunity for all kinds of deceptions and self-deceptions. That is why the study of humanism in what most characterizes it and where its main forces are directed, that is, in the public, is one of the most important religious tasks of our time. Bulgakov devotes most of his works to this task.
In resolving issues related to this area, the author is undoubtedly a direct follower and successor of Vl. Solovyova. For him, just like for Solovyov, there is a certain truth in the humanistic principles of society, which, however, from a religious point of view is only an external truth that needs to be penetrated by religious truth and will. And the author directs his main attention to the study of this internal side of cultural and social phenomena. What drives the main social trends of modern and past cultural eras of mankind, what internal religious meaning is hidden in this or that social ideology, sometimes seemingly alien to religion in appearance - these are the questions that Bulgakov primarily addresses. And here they have undoubtedly done a lot. One of Bulgakov's lucky features as a researcher is the ability to grasp the most characteristic and give an unusually clear and clear picture of the era, mood or teaching being studied.
Since this is coupled with the author’s very extensive erudition as a specialist in economic issues, and more recently in the field of the history of Christianity, his essays are of dual value: both as a purely objective study, and as a kind of religious guidance in the intricate labyrinth of social ideas and aspirations. In the first respect, the article “On Early Christianity” is of particular importance, giving an extremely comprehensive and apt description of the inner life of early Christianity. Given the ease of mixing many features of early Christianity with some modern trends, Bulgakov’s study of “what was and what was not” in early Christianity is very necessary and timely. But this same article also outlines a solution to some other issues troubling modern religious consciousness, for example, the question of asceticism, the relationship of Christianity to socialism. We consider the article primarily guiding in the religious and social sense to be reprinted from “Vekhi” - “Heroism and Asceticism.”
It contains a lot of bitter truth about the Russian intelligentsia, and, moreover, a truth that has not yet been recognized and does not live in the general consciousness.
E.N. Trubetskoy. Old and new national messianism 1039
There is hardly any other human feeling that in our days is subject to more profound changes than the national feeling. After a whole series of fiery trials through which it has passed, we experience it completely differently than before. It has not diminished in strength or depth; in its inner being it remained whole; but at the same time it has changed in something fundamental and extremely important. And that is why all the old forms in which it was previously expressed seem to us deeply unsatisfactory. The old national melodies have faded, and we are waiting for new ones that should replace them.
This is most clearly reflected in the true kingdom of melody - in music. I remember that in the early eighties, young people of my generation saw no stains in “Ruslan”, listened with enthusiasm to “A Life for the Tsar” 1040 and were delighted with Tchaikovsky’s early works. And now almost everything that made me happy then has become hateful. Much in “Ruslan” seems to us completely outdated. The “people” in “A Life for the Tsar” no longer seem to us like peasants, but like peasants; and in the pseudo-national motifs of Tchaikovsky’s early works one hears an unbearable falsehood to the ear. A good third, if not half, of our national music consists of faded tunes that are now impossible to listen to. These motives obviously reflect some long-lived national illusions that are completely alien to a modern educated person.
The same phenomenon is noticeable in other spheres of national creativity, especially in the field of thought. Here, too, there is its own “music of the past”, which has no future, its own faded motives, completely unacceptable to the modern ear. And among them, one of the first places is occupied by the one I will talk about now, the idea of Russian national messianism.
I remember in the days of my youth it made my heart beat just like the music of “A Life for the Tsar.” And now, when you hear the latest variations on the same, once beloved theme, you experience a painful feeling of awkwardness, as if at the same time ashamed and painful: as if some very deep inner shrine is insulted by an inappropriate and inappropriate form of expression. To our great happiness, we are given the opportunity here to recognize a false note, which our ancestors did not feel.
In a well-known folk retelling, the conversation between Christ and the Samaritan woman is literally conveyed as follows: “She says to Him: how can I give you something to drink when you are a Jew; and He answered her: “You’re lying,” he says, “I’m a pure Russian.” This story always invariably evokes a condescending smile at the dark, illiterate, common people. Meanwhile, he expresses the very essence of that national-messianic psychology, which, perhaps, captivated highly educated and cultured people to an even greater extent.
One way or another, Russian national messianism has always been expressed in the affirmation of the Russian Christ, in a more or less subtle Russification of the Gospel. In his talented book about A. S. Khomyakov, N. A. Berdyaev 1041 quite correctly considers the affirmation of the exclusive closeness of one people to Christ, the recognition of its primacy in Christ, as a sign of national messianism. In this he quite rightly believes that messianism differs from missionism. There can be many peoples with any calling or mission, in particular with a religious mission. Meanwhile, there can only be one people-Messiah. As soon as we admit that there is not one, but at least several God-bearing peoples called to save the world, we thereby destroy the messianic consciousness and take the ground of missionism. An essential feature of national messianism lies in the national exclusivity of religious consciousness.
This is the reason why in our days this messianism is one of the faded motives. Withering is the fatal fate of any plant torn from its roots. The everyday root of our national messianism is hidden in the distant past of Russian life, in such moods and feelings that have long ago and irrevocably sunk into eternity.
There were other times and other generations before us who did not feel any contradiction in the idea of the “Russian Christ.” Pre-Petrine Rus' breathed this illusion. There was a time when our ancestors lived the dream of a Third Rome, called upon to “save and renew the world.” This dream arose in the mood of the era, which V. O. Klyuchevsky 1042 successfully characterizes as the era of “eclipse of the universal idea.” After the fall of the Second Rome - Constantinople - the “Third Rome” - Moscow imagined itself as the only refuge in the world of right faith and true piety. At that time, Orthodox Rus' considered itself the only owner of Christ and Christianity; She despised the Greeks, and put heterodox religions on the same level as paganism. In the words of V. O. Klyuchevsky, the organic vice of ancient Russian church society was that “it considered itself the only true believer in the world, its understanding of the Divine exclusively correct. He represented the Creator of the universe as his own Russian God, not belonging to or known to anyone else” (III, 383).
Traditional piety, inherited by the Slavophiles from their ancestors, contained a strong admixture of this “organic vice”. True, as N.A. quite rightly points out. Berdyaev, in Khomyakov’s mind, messianism still struggled with missionism; however, even in his mood, the features of the old Moscow messianic conceit were expressed quite clearly: he considered Russia the chosen people, asserted its primacy in Christ and believed in its calling to save all nations:
And you will become wonderful in glory
Above all earthly sons,
Like this blue vault of heaven -
Transparent Veil of the Most High 1043.
It is clear that here, too, the basis of national messianism was the “eclipse of the universal.” Khomyakov could believe in Russia as the only savior of peoples in the world only because he equated the ecumenical with the “Orthodox,” and in one way or another substituted the Russian in place of the “Orthodox.” However, Khomyakov had hesitations in this regard; The erased border between the universal and the Russian was restored from time to time. It completely disappeared in Dostoevsky, who should be recognized as the most typical exponent of Russian national messianism.
For him, Western religions are an expression of non-Christian faith; in particular, Roman Catholicism, in his words, “does not preach Christ, but the Antichrist.” According to Dostoevsky, it is, in essence, not even a faith, but a continuation of the Western Roman Empire. This is what defines Russia's vocation. “It is necessary for our Christ, whom we preserved and whom they did not know, to shine in opposition to the West.” The renewal of humanity in the future will be accomplished “only by Russian thought, Russian God and Christ.” It is in Russia that the new coming of Christ will take place. The Russian people are “the only God-bearing people on all earth, coming to renew and save the world in the name of the new God,” they alone “have been given the keys of life and the new word” 1044.
The religious and national narrowness of this form of “messianism” was thoroughly exposed by V. S. Solovyov. To assert that the Church of St. Bernard, St. Francis, Fra Beato and the German mystics 1045 did not know. Christ and that we were to reveal Him to the West for the first time became impossible after these revelations; The proud thought that all Western Christianity has deviated into paganism, while Eastern Christianity has remained free from these deviations, has also become impossible. Unfortunately, awareness of the sins and contradictions of the old Slavophilism did not save Solovyov himself from the same fatal hobby. In another form, the old traditional dream of the Third Rome and the God-bearing people was resurrected. He imagined that of all the peoples in the world, only the Russian people are a theocratic or royal people, called to establish the Kingdom of God on earth in the form of holy statehood and public life.
We have here an illusion that has died and will not be resurrected. I’m not talking about the countless disgraces to which Russian statehood has been and is still being subjected: empirical facts alone are not enough to shake faith, which by its very nature is a “warning of hope” 1046. But in this case, it was not some “empirical reality” that failed, not any specific value, but the very idea of holy statehood. Theocracy as such was exposed and debunked; Solovyov himself had to be convinced of this. Towards the end of his life, he realized that statehood as such has no place in the Kingdom of God, that the Kingdom
God, even in its earthly implementation, is not theocratic, but anarchic 1047. Thus, the dream of a special messianic task of the Russian state collapsed. But at the same time, the last support of Russian national messianism also fell. Now it is completely unclear what he is holding on to.
Whatever the shortcomings of the old Russian national messianism, it, in comparison with the newest messianism, had one undoubted advantage - the advantage of integrity and consistency: its supporters could give a clear account of their hope. To the question of how the special election and special closeness of Russia to Christ is confirmed, our distant pre-Petrine ancestors could answer with the words of the monk Philotheus 1048 addressed to the Grand Duke Vasily 1049, the father of the Terrible: “Our Catholic Church in your sovereign kingdom alone now shines with piety in all the heavenly places more than the sun; all Orthodox kingdoms have gathered in one kingdom of yours; in all the earth you alone are the Christian king.”
Likewise, both Khomyakov and Dostoevsky could answer quite clearly why for them the “Orthodox people” are “above all the sons of the earth.” Likewise, Solovyov, in the middle period of his work, could explain in detail and accurately why he considers the Russian people to be the salt of the earth and the royal people.
It is precisely this clarity that modern advocates of the national-messianic idea lack, and this is for the simple reason that for them this idea is torn off from all its historical roots. They cannot identify the Orthodox with the ecumenical, because this would mean erasing Solovyov from their education. The faith in the theocratic empire, in the messianic Russian kingdom, which Solovyov himself experienced and rejected, became also impossible for them.
Stronger than Solovyov’s theocratic preaching is his prophetic warning:
Will humble himself in trembling and fear,
Who could forget the covenant of love...
And the third Rome lies in the dust,
And the fourth will not be 1050.
To extract our national messianism from these ruins requires great courage and the greatest effort of creativity in our days. Not only the walls of the old proud building collapsed. Its very foundation, due to its dilapidation and narrowness, fell into disrepair and became completely unacceptable for modern religious consciousness. What are the latest national messianic aspirations based on?
Here, as in the tale of Ivan Tsarevich, three roads open before Russian religious thought. If she chooses the middle path, drives straight ahead, she will be cold and hungry and will not get anywhere. If she goes to the right, she herself will die, but the horse will remain intact. Fortunately, there is also a third saving path - to the left: here you have to sacrifice your favorite skate. But the religious thought itself will remain intact.
The first two ways have already been tried. S. N. Bulgakov took the middle path, offering some compromise between the universal ideal and the old Slavophil concept. On the one hand, the fact that Dostoevsky believed not only in a religious calling, but in the “exclusive mission” of the Russian people 1051 did not escape his attention. On the other hand, however, in his own religious consciousness the universal Christian idea rebels against this exclusivity. To get out of this difficulty, he decided to sacrifice exclusivity, to humble the pride of national messianism through an “ascetic settlement” of national feeling 1052. But this attempt to find a middle path between the Scylla and Charybdis of universal Christianity and the pagan nationalism of the old Slavophilism served neither religious thought nor its favorite horse. On the one hand, from “national asceticism” national messianism became cold and hungry. He lost weight and became pale beyond recognition, almost completely losing his physiognomy.
On the other hand, religious thought, hungry for universal Christianity, did not receive that new food that could satisfy it; she did not achieve her goal and did not move forward because she did not dare to part with her beloved horse.
The solution that S. N. Bulgakov came to is equally unsatisfactory both from the point of view of consistent national messianism and from the point of view of consistent Christianity. He clearly sees that national messianism easily turns into “what is usually called nationalism.” According to him, “the idea of election too easily degenerates into a consciousness of special privilege, whereas it should give rise to a heightened sense of responsibility and increase demands on oneself.” “National asceticism must set a boundary for national messianism, otherwise it turns into a caricatured, repulsive nationalism” 1053.
These words reveal the weakest point of S. N. Bulgakov’s entire construction. “Limited messianism” is a glaring internal contradiction. One of two things: either this people is truly a people-Messiah, the only people in the world called to show salvation to the whole world, or they are not the Messiah at all. The messianic calling of the “chosen” people can neither be limited nor shared by them with any other people. This can be seen in the example of that only national messianism, the truth of which from a Christian point of view seems completely reliable. If the Jews in the Old Testament had not been the only chosen people called to give birth to Christ, if the Old Testament had not been concluded by God with Israel alone, unlike other nations, Israel would not have been a God-bearing people and a messianic people.
To limit the exclusivity of national messianism means simply to destroy it. In this regard, the messianic theory of S. N. Bulgakov is highly instructive. According to his interpretation, “the Slavophile expression “Russian Christ” can be understood, among other things, in the sense of stating the fact that different nationalities, as truly different from each other, each perceive Christ in their own way and are changed by this acceptance. In this sense, one can speak quite seriously and without a shadow of any blasphemy, not only about the Russian Christ, but also about the Greek, Italian, German, as well as about national saints” 1054.
This interpretation is in every respect and from every point of view unacceptable. Dostoevsky, who really thought that the world should be saved by a Russian Christ unknown to the West, would have seen in the recognition of the German and Italian Christ a complete overthrow of his faith in the “God-bearing people” and would have been right, because the whole meaning of this faith is that the Russian people alone “have been given the keys of life and a new word.” On the other hand, the universal, Christian consciousness remains completely unsatisfied.
The idea of a “Russian Christ,” as S. N. Bulgakov understands it, is all the more seductive and dangerous because in it error is mixed with a certain particle of truth, and therefore does not immediately catch the eye. The truth here lies in stating the fact that different nationalities perceive Christ each in their own way. The misconception lies in elevating this fact to a principle and norm. This is most easily explained by comparison. It is possible that different peoples perceive not only Christ, but also the light of the sun differently, since they do not see all the colors of the spectrum equally. For example, the ancient Greeks called the sea not blue, but “violet,” as a result of which there is an assumption that they did not see a blue ray in sunlight. It is possible that there are now other facts of color blindness, different among different peoples. We will not, however, on this basis talk about the Greek, German or Italian sun and claim that the Russian sun is closer to all of us. According to S.N.
Bulgakov, true religion, “being super-national in its content, remains not non-popular in the way it is absorbed” 1055. Absolutely true, but why, however, does it seem strange and even funny to us to talk about German, Italian or Russian truth; Why does this violation of the unity of truth, obvious in all other cases, suddenly cease to be obvious when we are talking about the highest revelation of unconditional Truth - about Christ? In all other cases, the Truth itself in its completeness is in the foreground for us. Why should we, in Christ, first of all seek and affirm our “Holy Rus'”, our imperfect national point of view with its inevitable limitations and color blindness? And is it permissible to turn this color blindness into a definition of truth itself, that is, in this case, messianism itself! Christ is Russian, Italian and German - it’s the same as the purple, green or blue sun.
According to S.N. Bulgakov, “the ability of a completely special perception of divine fullness, of isolating from it a special ray from the divine pleroma 1056 is what for religious views seems to be the most valuable and important in the nature of nationality” 1057. This is where the fatal flaw of the entire point of view under consideration strikes the eye. After all, the divine pleroma unites in itself all the rays of the spectrum, all that infinitely diverse rainbow of colors that makes up the content of the spiritual life of all nationalities. Is it really possible that the most important and valuable thing in the nature of a nationality is its ability to perceive only its own special ray? Doesn't this mean elevating national limitations to an ideal and a norm? This is unfair, first of all, in relation to the nationality itself.
It is absolutely true that each nationality has its own “special ray”; but the most important and valuable thing about her is not her ability to separate and isolate herself in this particularity, but her calling - to unite this ray with all other rays in the unity of the pleroma, her ability to see them all in the unity of the white solar ray. This will finally overthrow “national messianism” in its softened Bulgakovian form. Only one or another limited angle of view on messianism can be national, but not it itself. In case what has been said on this subject does not seem convincing enough, I will allow myself to remind you that S. N. Bulgakov’s point of view was known to the Apostle Paul many centuries before him and caused a protest on his part that was as ardent as it was convincing.
According to S. N. Bulgakov, “to us Russians, it is our Russian Christ, the Venerable Christ, who is closer and more accessible. Seraphim and Rev. Sergius, rather than the Christ of Bernard of Clairvaux, or Catherine of Siena 1058, or even Francis of Assisi" 1059. From a purely factual point of view, this, of course, is as true as the fact that Catholics are closer to Petrov’s Christianity, and Protestants are closer to Paul’s Christianity. But in fact, perhaps Oblomov’s Christianity is even closer to us. That is why, if we try to elevate our actual into the normal and proper, we will encounter the categorical prohibition of the Apostle Paul.
The fact that universal and national Truth is assimilated by people in their own way and that in Christianity there are different angles of view, of course, did not escape his attention. He knew that there was Christianity in Petrovo, Pavlovo and Apollosovo. But he spoke with strong condemnation of those who mistake these different ways of perceiving truth for the color of truth itself.
“I beseech you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all speak the same thing and that there be no division among you, but that you be united in the same spirit and in the same thoughts. For from the household of Chloe it became known to me about you, my brethren, that there are disputes among you: I understand what they say among you: I am Pavlov, I am Apollos, I am Cephas, and I am Christ. Was Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you, or were you baptized in the name of Paul? (1 Cor. 1:10–13).
The Apostle Paul would have answered the same to those who think that St. Christ is closest to us. Seraphim and Sergius and that this is their own, special, “close” in the nationality from a religious point of view, the most valuable. The Apostle advises all Christians, regardless of nationality, to unite in the same thoughts about Christ. And this is the dividing line that separates the true Messiah from the false particularistic “messianicism.”
The true Christ unites all peoples around himself in the same thoughts and in the same spirit. He is wherever two or three gather in His name. But who will gather in the name of Russian Christ? He will alienate not only the Germans and Italians, but even the Russians themselves. Believers will unite with non-believers in a living protest against him. And this is because a real supra-national Messiah is both more necessary and closer to genuine religious consciousness than a limited national deity. The true Christ in whom we are ready to believe lifts us above our national weaknesses, and does not confirm us in them. The eclipse of the universal idea has come to an end, and national messianism is destined to the same oblivion as the Christianity of the household of Chloe, condemned by the Apostle Paul.
Sergei Bulgakov. Philosophy of farming. Part I: The world as an economy 1060
M.: Publishing house “Put”, 1912. Ts. 2 r.
The title given by Mr. Bulgakov to his work can easily lead many into misunderstanding. It would be more correct to title the book something else, for example: “Economic Theology,” especially since the desire to fill up the “empty theology” played almost the main role in its appearance. “In an era of decline in dogmatic self-awareness... it is especially important,” says the author in the preface, “to put forward the ontological and cosmological side of Christianity... To do this, it is necessary to turn to the religious ontology, cosmology and anthropology of St. Athanasius of Alexandria, Gregory of Nyssa and other ancient teachers of the Church... The objectives of this research include an attempt to translate some of these teachings into the language of modern philosophical thinking.”
Accordingly, in the book devoted to the economy, we find more or less extensive discussions on such subjects as: “the trinity of God,” “The Divine Sophia,” “the primordial Adam,” “the Garden of Eden,” “the Fall,” “expulsion from paradise,” “the incarnation of God the Word,” “the new Adam-Christ,” “The Body of Christ - the Church,” “Guardian Angels,” “Antichrist”... Even the “three-day and stinking Lazarus” is not forgotten; even “ineffable verbs, which a person is not too lazy to say,” found a place in Mr. Bulgakov’s research. He “translated almost all Orthodox dogma into the language of modern philosophical thinking” and discovered the “ontological and cosmological side” in everything. He was just getting his bearings on the farm. Of course, farming in the usual sense of the word was not suitable for such orientation. “Economy,” according to Mr. Bulgakov’s definition, “is an expression of the struggle between two metaphysical principles of life and death” (44).
“The content of the economic process can also be expressed this way: it expresses the desire to transform dead matter, acting with mechanical necessity, into a living body, with its organic expediency” (43). “Economy in this sense,” notes Mr. Bulgakov, “is characteristic of all living things, not only the human, but also the animal world” (43). One could go further: “economy in this sense” is also characteristic of plants, which also transform dead matter into a living organism. “However,” Mr. Bulgakov writes on the same page, “in the precise sense of the word, economic activity is characteristic only of man.”
Where this “exact meaning” came from is completely unknown; but the author needs it in order to jump from life and death to another, barely noticeable in animals and invisible in plants, “polarity of being” - to the subject and object - and to give the following definition of economy: “every economic act carries out some influence of the subject and the object, the introduction of the subject into the object, the subjectivization of the object, or the departure of the subject from himself in the world of things, i.e. the objectification of the subject” (50). From here it’s already a stone’s throw to the “Absolute,” which is written with a capital letter, - to the Absolute, in which “this polarity of being is extinguished,” in which “subject-objectivity is posited in a single, identical, timeless act: the mystery of the Holy Trinity and intra-Trinitarian life!” (98)... Let us give another example of Mr. Bulgakov’s theological research, “oriented toward the economy.” He defines consumption, in particular nutrition, as follows: “Food is a natural communion of the flesh of the world” (84).
Based on this definition and lightly touching on the afterlife spirits, supposedly materializing in spiritualistic séances, he immediately puts forward the ontological side of the incarnation of God the Word and “the greatest Christian sacrament” - the Eucharist. Two pages later he already writes: “If food is communion of the flesh of the world, then partaking of the Body and Blood of Christ...”, etc. (86). – The results of Mr. Bulgakov’s economic research, so fruitful for theology, are largely due to his “philosophy,” which, as far as we are able to understand and coherently present it, boils down briefly to the following. God, who created “an existence outside Himself, an extradivine being,” “honored this world with freedom and autonomy” (86). For this or any other reason, a “cosmic”, “metaphysical catastrophe” occurred: the primordial
Adam “fell from God along with the creation” (132). “Of course, this event did not take place in time” (149), explains the philosopher.
Thanks to this “fall,” apparently, any polarity of existence appeared, in particular life and death, which are in a tireless struggle with each other. But “God did not create death,” as Solomon attested. Moreover, metabolism indicates that there is no metaphysical boundary between the living and the dead. After sufficient reflection, Mr. Bulgakov came to the conclusion that in reality “there is no death” (79); “there is only life, and what is taken for death and a lifeless mechanism is damage, a break in life, its fainting, accompanied by the fainting of nature” (205). “To bring nature to its senses,” to “resurrect” it, to “atone for its original corruption,” “to restore the internal connection and correlation of the elements of the world, broken by the Fall,” to “humanize” nature—this is the task of economics, and at the same time the content of the historical process. There is a “transcendental subject of economics”, identical with the transcendental subject of knowledge (discovered by Schelling), which directs history towards this goal.
This subject is not an idea or a method only, it “exists”, “has being in itself” (117). He has many names: “whole humanity”, “Soul of the world”, “Divine Sophia”, “Pleroma”, “Natura naturans” 1061 .., “Logos” 1062, “world master”, “demiurge”, “Providence”... Of all the names of the transcendental subject, Mr. Bulgakov apparently prefers the Divine Sophia, “conducting divine forces into the world Logos." “This mountainous Sophia floats above the distant world, shining through it like reason, like beauty, like... economy and culture” (139). In further research it turns out that there are even two Sophias: the Heavenly Sophia and the empirical Sophia, or metaphysical and historical humanity. The living connection between them is “Christ, the incarnate Logos, whose body is the Church, the Heavenly Sophia” (150–151). It may, of course, seem strange to laymen that humanity and Providence are synonymous. But it turns out that each person “embodies a creative idea, has within himself a certain ideal task, exists from eternity as a representation of God” (219).
These ideal images, by the way, are the essence of “guardian angels that every person has.” “The fusion of individuals into humanity is based ... on their real participation in a single whole, of which they are individual aspects” (225). Due to the freedom granted to people, they can become similar to the eternal ideas of God or move away from them (219). But this freedom extends only to the course of the historical process, but not to its outcome, “corresponding to the divine plan” and “guaranteed” by the Providence of God (237). Such is this philosophy, oriented, as the reader sees, not so much on the economy as on God. It is therefore not surprising that the results of Mr. Bulgakov’s research turned out to be so fruitful for theology. Of course, this philosophy (the philosophy of Schelling, restored by a theologian who cannot forget that he entered the literary arena as an economic materialist) is not based on science and, in particular, on natural science, and in some of its provisions even “contradicts its basic facts and foundations” (88). But Mr.
Bulgakov is not embarrassed by this: after all, he operates, “so to speak, on top of the private truths of natural science.” And in general: “The truth lies on the other side of knowledge.” “Ineffability and, as a result, mystery, like a cloud, surrounds the Truth, but those who are honored to become the organ of its revelation become involved in it. It is not known in the sciences, but it reveals itself...” It reveals itself, by the way, “in the form of the brilliant intuitions of philosophical geniuses” (158). “Only one path leads directly and directly to the Truth - religious feat, the acceptance of Him who said about Himself: “I am the way, the truth and the life,” and whoever partakes of life in him is already associated with life in the Truth. He becomes a living member of the Divine Sophia, the Body of Christ, His Church” (158). Mr. Bulgakov himself became involved in the Truth, apparently, in this very way. In this case, we are dealing not only with a theological, but also a revealed book... It is unlikely, however, that the Orthodox Church recognizes it as such.
She did not even canonize her ancient teachers, who were entirely oriented towards God, but who showed an excessive inclination towards speculative speculation, such as Origen and Augustine 1063, and considers them only blessed. She, perhaps, will even suspect a new teacher, who has converted from economic materialists and is oriented not only on God, but also on the economy, of heresy...
N.N. Alekseev. Experience in building a philosophical system on the concept of economy. Sergei Bulgakov. Philosophy of farming. 1064
Part one. The world is like an economy. M., 1912
We have been eagerly awaiting the release of this book. Two years before that, debates about Russian philosophy, about its special national paths, were a subject of keen interest for us. It is known how the author of “Philosophy of Economics” resolved this issue and what opinion he subscribed to. One can even say that he was one of the most talented and outstanding representatives of that trend, which looked with hopeless eyes at the fate of Western philosophy and was filled with hopes for the special calling of Russian. And now a book comes out from his pen - this living example of Russian thought, this new stage of its national path. What could arouse the interest of a philosopher even more, for whom the fate of philosophy is not indifferent and who tirelessly searches for new words and new revelations in its history?
Indeed, the first glance at the book convinces us of the originality of its thoughts and its problems. Let's start with the topic itself. What crisis is modern Western social and philosophical thought in, disillusioned with its old ways, having not yet found and fruitlessly seeking new ones? Having gone into methodological research, it least of all gives us answers to the essential questions of social science and presents a strange spectacle of the construction of scientific methods where real knowledge does not yet exist. And then a “philosophy of economics” appears, in which the subject is taken “at once in a threefold formulation - scientific-empirical, transcendental-critical and metaphysical” (p. 11). After all, this is no longer a fruitless wandering through the equally fruitless field of methodology: this is an exit to the free field of real science! But moreover, in the book of the respected author it is not only about solving issues of social philosophy. The book has a general philosophical bias, and the philosophy of economics serves as the basis for building an entire philosophical system.
Just as Kant in his time oriented philosophy on the fact of theoretical natural science, so this new philosophy sets as its goal to orient itself on the fact of economics. And the author has no doubt that philosophy will take on a completely different look from this, and will tell people something completely new. Upon first examination of the contents of the book, it turns out that such an original formulation of the question really pushes the author away from all modern Western European philosophical trends. The author does not skimp on expressions in order to decisively dissociate himself from them. Moreover, most of all he disagrees with the Kantians. The author is not attracted to “caulked idealistic systems” and “Copernican pretensions of an armchair know-it-all” (p. 14). Criticism of reason has now become, in his opinion, “a whetstone for sharpening critical mice” (p. 35). “Kant, in his critique of pure reason, carefully caulked all the cracks of the edifice of science” (p. 212). Only with great reservations does the author agree to make a “curtsey to the Chinese dragon of criticism” (p. 33), i.e.
devote your attention to epistemological issues. The author does not want to join the disease that European philosophy still suffers from - intellectualism and its followers, Descartes, Fichte and Hegel. But he has an equally negative attitude towards the opposite direction - anti-intellectualism, especially in the face of positivism, which wants to “finally establish itself in the zoological title of the anthropoid ape and, at the same time, appropriate to itself the throne of the superman” (p. 20). The author speaks no less harshly about pragmatism 1065. “Radical pragmatism, in his opinion, is deeply wrong.” Utility cannot be made the only criterion of truth, unless “to outrage the evidence and proclaim that 2 x 2 = stearin candle” (p. 182).
The more a book takes on itself, the more harshly we judge it. Noblesse oblige! 1066 Therefore, I apologize in advance to S.N. Bulgakov that I did not try to soften the judgments and conclusions that I came to as a result of my criticism. It was all the more difficult for me to pronounce these judgments because both in its philosophical spirit and in the severity of the presentation of some philosophical problems, the book of the respected author represents an outstanding phenomenon in modern Russian literature. What is dear in it, first of all, is the fresh spirit of philosophical quest that distinguishes S. N. Bulgakov’s book from the scientific scholasticism of modern German philosophy. This fresh and free philosophical mood helped the author to come so close to the most basic problem of modern philosophy, constituting, as it were, its soul, often hidden behind the heavy vestment of school concepts: we are talking about the problem of the rational and the irrational and their relationship - that problem, the external expression of which is the struggle of the two main modern philosophical movements - pure logic, on the one hand, pragmatism, on the other.
It is also very valuable that to a certain extent can be called the main idea of the “Philosophy of Economics”: the idea of the special role that the sciences of culture can play in solving the named problem. After all, if we ignore the details, in S. N. Bulgakov’s book the matter is, first of all, about building a philosophical worldview, taking into account the special nature of the cultural-historical sciences. In my deep conviction, this thought is the lever with which modern philosophy can be moved. But you need to learn to wield the lever. And in my equally deep conviction, the way of solving philosophical questions that reigns in S.N. Bulgakov’s book does not give us the slightest evidence to successfully use this lever. And so, despite all my sympathy for the author’s main idea, I feel a duty to openly and sharply express that it is impossible to philosophize the way the direction embodied in S. N. Bulgakov’s book wants to philosophize.
We will touch only on the main philosophical problems posed by this interesting book and analyze them in the order of their logical continuity. We have already seen how the author poses his question: his task is not only in the plane of socio-philosophical issues, but also goes into the area of general philosophical problems. Thus, the philosophy of economy for him is not only a philosophy about economy, but also philosophy from the point of view of economy, not only genetivus objectivus, but also genetivus subjectivus 1067. The author often does not distinguish between these two different tasks of his research, but in essence they are completely different. “I do not intend,” the author says in the preface, “to justify the topic of this study, because I believe that it speaks sufficiently for itself and does not need special justification... I have no doubt about one thing - the enormous significance of the problem itself, which, I am convinced, should belong, if not today, then tomorrow in philosophy.
Understanding the world as an object of labor’s economic influence is its main task, to which economism, criticism, pragmatism, and mysticism equally lead.” We can generally agree with this. How something unformed in nature is capable of being formed and thus serving human purposes is a very serious question to which any integral philosophical system must have an answer. But it is very far from posing and solving this question to posing and solving another one, which S. N. Bulgakov also poses for himself - to looking at the world as an economic process, to understanding the philosophy of the world as a philosophy of economics. It is clear that this may be the view of extreme forms of economism and pragmatism, but we can say that, fortunately, the majority of philosophical trends of our days are far from this and will never join it. Such a view could be called a special type of positivism, the basis of which is political economy as an exact science 1068 *.
But if natural-scientific positivism was possible and if natural-scientific positivism is still strong, then this depends on the power of our natural science. What is political economy today? Science, which is still looking for its Newton and which will probably never find him. Isn’t it strange to set the goal of philosophy to understand the world from the point of view of a non-existent, or, in any case, very dubious science? Marx could believe this, who at the same time believed that he had finally built political economy as an exact science. How can S. N. Bulgakov believe in this, according to whom, “one cannot be surprised if more rigorous scientific minds, brought up in natural science... allow themselves to doubt” scientific political economy, “its very right to scientific existence” (p. 293). As a result of all this, does not the problem of “philosophy of economics” itself require special justification and special explanation?
It seems to us that S. N. Bulgakov himself feels the need for such justification and even tries to do it, if not in the preface, then on the subsequent pages of his book. However, this justification leads him to a whole series of contradictions, which allows us to doubt the possibility and legitimacy of the very formulation of the question, so undeniable for the author of “Philosophy of Economics.” Why, in fact, can one look at the world as an economic process, why does it make sense to orient philosophy on the fact of economics? Isn't it better to build it from the point of view, for example, of law? And not just rights, but, say, private rights. Is it not possible to philosophize about the world from the point of view of international law? Or from the point of view of commercial law, bill of exchange, etc.? It seems that the author actually agrees with such paradoxical assumptions. “It is in the nature of thought,” he says, “that it is not independent, but is “oriented,” there is a thought about something, and this something is, in a certain sense, determined arbitrarily, reflection is an act of freedom.
But just as from each point of a sphere paths can be laid throughout this entire sphere, and just as one and the same point can encounter an infinite number of curves or straight lines along the way, so, speaking fundamentally, each orientation, with the proper depth of its development, can contain the key to all kinds of problems, and, therefore, conceals within itself the possibility of their corresponding resolution” (26). “There is no single royal way of thought; on the contrary, with a multitude of initial orientations, it is necessary to recognize the multiplicity of ways of thought, and therefore the objective significance of various constructions” (27). With this understanding of the matter, “principled objections to the attempt to build a philosophical system “oriented” on any point of view lose force” (30). The question here can only be raised about the practical convenience of one or another of them: if it is convenient, it is thereby justified.
As can be seen, the author seeks to justify his position by taking the point of view of extreme epistemological pluralism with an emphasis on pragmatism and relativism. The author himself must admit this, although with reservations. “The point of view developed here,” he says, “has nothing to do with skepticism, which undermines any possibility of objective knowledge, but this is undoubtedly aesthetic relativism in philosophy” (29, book). Whether this is aesthetic relativism, or some other form of relativism, is not of interest to us here, but it is strange how relativism can “have nothing to do with skepticism.” We will now see that the predicate “aesthetic” does not save anything, and the author’s relativism has the properties of any relativism, that is, it is a self-negating and dogmatic point of view.
However, we do not need to prove that all relativism is a self-contradictory point of view, which S. N. Bulgakov proves to us on pages 18–21 of his book. In his opinion, skepticism “stems from the tendency to consider reason only as an instrument of life, guided by a blind, illogical, even almost antilogical instinct. The mind here acquires the meaning of only a tool, valuable only because of its usefulness” (19, book). Such a view cannot “explain its own possibility and its own claims” (20). All of these are well-known arguments against skepticism, but they entirely fall within the point of view of the author himself. For if the question of the truth of economic philosophy is decided on the basis of its practical convenience and practical suitability, we have a typical example of a view of reason as an instrument. But the philosophy of economics, with its instrumental interpretation, cannot justify either its scientific nature or its truth. Let us assume that the philosophy of economics is useful for something and is suitable for something. The question is, why?
The philosophy of economics can have a thousand applications, none of which will be either scientific or philosophical. And for it to have scientific and philosophical suitability, for this it is necessary to move from the concept of suitability to the field of concepts of logic and science. At the same time, if all kinds of views on the world are possible, then probably a view diametrically opposed to the one set forth in “Philosophy of Economics” is also possible. Consequently, it is possible to build two systems about the world, consisting of contradictory judgments. And this is either absurd, or the boundless pluralism of S. N. Bulgakov must be limited.
But not only that, the aesthetic relativism of S. N. Bulgakov - like any relativism - becomes possible only because it rests on more or less conscious dogmatic premises of a purely rationalistic nature. How is it, in fact, permissible to hold the view that in philosophy there is possible that extreme, boundless pluralism which asserts that all roads lead to Rome and that philosophy can be written from any point of view? After all, philosophy is equated here with an act of simple arbitrariness, even caprice. How does it happen that whim still becomes knowledge and philosophy? Here we enter into the inner secret of S. N. Bulgakov’s aesthetic relativism. “Fundamental boundaries,” he says at one point in his book, “cannot be established in the choice of points of view due to the unity and connectedness of life and the law of continuity of thinking: everything is in everything and everything can be found in everything” (27). “Reality is logical,” it is said in another place, “it is connected, and this connection is identical with logical thinking, it is revealed and given over to it...
This connection is universal, for it is the connection of everything, in everything... There is the Logos of the world and, according to its power, there is the logic of things, the logic of sciences, and the logic of actions: everything is in an all-pervading connection. For the world in its positive basis is not Chaos, but Sophia” (182–183). In other words, all roads can lead to Rome only if their direction is predetermined, if their entire network is laid by a wise surveyor, according to a wise plan. This premise about the original wisdom of the ways of this world, the conviction that everything lies in everything, guarantees that even with the most capricious choice of path, all philosophers will eventually converge, and it will not turn out that one ends up in Rome, another in Constantinople, the third in Beijing. Why, then, not philosophize about the world from the point of view of economics, or from the point of view of trade law, or from the point of view of international law?
But how can S. N. Bulgakov make this assumption of the Logos underlying the world if, as we have seen, he sharply distinguishes his philosophy from the main “disease” of the West, from intellectualism? After all, according to S.N. Bulgakov, “connectedness” and “continuity” are only properties of those limited spheres of life that are exhausted by logical thinking. In logic, even panlogism is possible, “the monstrous lie of which begins only when it gives ontological significance to its epistemological statements and, therefore, interprets them in the sense of intellectualistic metaphysics” (23). But S. N. Bulgakov, affirming the Logos of the world, falls precisely into this intellectualistic metaphysics, and even in its extreme and exaggerated interpretation: for only with this interpretation is it possible to believe that everything, even the most crooked roads of philosophy, will still lead to Rome.
We see that at its first step - in the very formulation of its problem - the philosophy of economics encounters strange and inexplicable contradictions. But let’s not be too picky and won’t insist that the correct formulation of the question is the first condition for its successful solution. Let us go further and see in what ways the author comes to the solution of the problem of economic philosophy posed in this way.
The philosophy of economics is based, as S.N. Bulgakov admitted, on the economism of our modern era. “Our time understands, feels, experiences the world as an economy, and the power of humanity as wealth, primarily in the economic sense of the word. This idea, despite some exaggeration by our contemporaries, has some prophetic content, some eternal truth... And this is the secret of the peculiar charm of economic materialism, thanks to which it so hypnotizes modern thought” (3).
Thus, the economic philosophy of S. N. Bulgakov was created primarily under the impression of Western European industrialism and the ideology of our industrial era characteristic of it. The author's former Marxism left an indelible mark on him and became an indispensable part of his current philosophizing, which was, however, joined by other philosophical influences.
We know that S. N. Bulgakov was at one time under the strong influence of critical philosophy. It is from this latter that he borrows further prerequisites for building his philosophy of economics.
Economism should not be rejected, but internally surpassed, explained in its limitations, as a philosophical abstract principle in which one side of the truth is presented as the whole truth (2). The limitations of economism lie in its naive dogmatism. “The situation is as if the dogmas of economism are the only possible and self-evident philosophy of economics in general. The task of philosophical criticism, therefore, first of all, is to smash this naive dogmatism and, by calling it into question, make it the subject of special research” (4). In other words, one must do with dogmatism in the form of economism as Kant did with dogmatism in the form of mathematical and mechanical natural science. Kant's criticism gives S. N. Bulgakov a general plan for his philosophy of economics.
But this is not just about the general plan. This is a matter of literally borrowing the methods of critical philosophy from Kant. In the chapter “On the transcendental subject of economics” we learn that S. N. Bulgakov wants to proceed from an analysis of the universally applicable or transcendental conditions of any economic activity. This transcendental analysis of the economy, of course, starts from, and at the same time rests on, economic experience (109, 110). “In this respect, the transcendental problem of economics is a complete analogy with the transcendental problem of knowledge in general: is there a transcendental subject of knowledge, a bearer of the functions of knowledge in general, justifying individual acts of knowledge and integrating them? The transcendental nature of knowledge can currently be considered more or less clarified; on the contrary, elucidation of the transcendental nature of economy has not yet begun.
In essence, the question here is the same, namely: what can be said about the transcendental subject, which determines both knowledge and economy and to which the integrating activity of knowledge or economy can and should be attributed” (115) 1069. With surprise, we see in the author of the philosophy of economics a philosopher-criticism, interpreting criticism as Schelling interpreted it or, despite all the differences in points of view, as some neo-Kantians now interpret it. The transcendental method, the essence of which lies in the gradual ascent from a fact to its necessary conditions, is a certain universal cognitive technique through which all questions of science and philosophy are resolved. Science asks about the conditions of sensory existence, philosophy – about the conditions of science. The science of economics asks about the conditions of the economy, philosophy asks about the conditions of the science of economics. But since the conditions of the science of economics are at the same time the conditions of economic activity itself, then the philosophy of the science of economics is the philosophy of economics.
Here is a diagram of the transcendental method, directly borrowed from Schelling, as indicated by S. N. Bulgakov’s quotes and references to the works of Schelling, the only one of the new Western philosophers whom he accepts more friendly.
We want here to emphasize the depth of our respect for transcendental philosophy and the entire dependence of our philosophical views on the ideas of German idealism. And for this alone we are already closer to German idealism than the author of “Philosophy of Economics.” However, can we become as close to the philosophical dogma of transcendentalism as Kant’s opponent S. N. Bulgakov accepts it? Definitely not. We know that this line of interpretation of Kant’s transcendental philosophy runs through all of German idealism throughout the centuries-long development of its ideas. Its main drawback is that here the differences between individual stages of human knowledge are erased and a kind of monism is established in philosophy, so alien to the author of critical idealism, who is least inclined to build the entire field of human knowledge according to one template. It can be said that such an interpretation of critical philosophy is based on the assimilation of its external architectonics, and not its internal meaning.
The meaning of the critical method, in our opinion, is that it freed itself from the dogmatic monism of previous philosophy and saw in our natural science not a kind of absolute comprehension of things in themselves, but an ideal task, a problem subject to endless fulfillment. Thus, the possibility of other problems, other comprehensions, so far from the philosophy of pre-Kantian dogmatism, was opened. Kant, in particular, in addition to the natural science problem, posed a logical, ethical and aesthetic problem. Prone to excessive architectonics, Kant undoubtedly tried to transfer the schemes of the Critique of Pure Reason to the field of ethics and aesthetics, but at the same time he was clearly aware of the essential difference between the three criticisms and expressed them in sharp terms: the Critique of Pure Reason as the world of nature, the second Critique as the intelligible world of freedom, and the third as a reconciliation of them. And it is not in this internal spirit of critical philosophy, but in its external schemes that S. N. Bulgakov looks for the basis for his philosophy of economics.
For him there is not even a question of what area of criticism philosophy belongs to, where is its “transcendental place” - in the “Critique of Pure Reason”, or in the “Critique of Practical Reason”, or in the “Critique of the Power of Judgment”? One external scheme is enough for him: from fact to conditions - and the transcendental philosophy of economics is ready. How easily the edifice of any philosophy can be erected! There is a fact of bill law, let us go back to its conditions, to its transcendental prerequisites - we will get the philosophy of bill law. There is a fact of technology - we will do the same. It's no more difficult than drawing from stencil pictures.
A recognized opponent of “caulked systems,” S. N. Bulgakov takes from them the worst, the most superficial, the most popular. He elevates this aspect into a universal method of philosophy, with the help of which the most serious problems of economic philosophy are solved.
This is how the author poses his problem and he suggests these ways to solve it. Let us agree with him on the legitimacy of these paths. Let’s get to the heart of the matter and see what new “Philosophy of Economics” has brought to philosophy and science.
We will first touch on the “philosophy of economics” in the broad sense of the word, namely, S. N. Bulgakov’s attempts to build a picture of the world from an economic point of view, attempts to orient the philosophical system on the fact of economics. Given the fact of economy, it is necessary to rise to its transcendental conditions and prerequisites. Thus we will resolve the question of how this fact is possible. According to S.N. Bulgakov, it is possible only if we accept as truth the worldview that Schelling set forth in his philosophy of identity. Kant's idealism is powerless to explain the fact of economic activity. “The Kantian subject is inactive, he only contemplates, therefore this teaching is completely armchair philosophy” (53). Fichte's philosophy further stylized Kant's idealism. “Between the subject and the object, a seemingly invisible but impenetrable glass wall, a whole system of mirrors, had been erected” (58). “Even more tightly than in Kant, the subject remains imprisoned here under a glass cap with the air pumped out” (58).
Only Schelling managed to “break this glass wall with a blow of a powerful hand” (58). With his teaching about the original identity of subject and object, Schelling laid the foundation for that philosophy that explains to us the possibility of interaction between them, the fact of the influence of the subject on the object, in a word, the fact of economic activity.
We will not go deep here into the details of the presentation of the philosophy of identity, as it was done by S. N. Bulgakov. Our author accepts Schelling's basic idea without reservation and provides lengthy quotations from various of his works to support his views. The only original thing here is the idea that the phenomenon of economic activity provides undeniable arguments for the adoption of the philosophy of identity. “It is only through a philosophical misunderstanding that the Marx school takes Hegel as its godfather, not noticing that the natural philosopher Schelling is incomparably more suitable for its purposes” (74). “The philosophy of economics, as a philosophy of objective action, must necessarily be a conscious continuation of the philosophical, namely, “natural philosophical” work of Schelling” (74). Let us, in fact, take a closer look at the main categories of economic activity, and we will receive even greater confirmation of this opinion. Any economic activity, as political economy has long taught, is composed of two economic acts - consumption and production.
And each of these acts, by its “transcendental condition”, presupposes the hypothesis of identity. “The original identity or unity of nature receives visual and, one might say, apodictic confirmation in the fact of consumption, in which the distinction between living and dead, animate and inanimate is removed” (89). “Consumption not only testifies to the identity of nature, but it is this identity itself, manifested in action, identity in actu” (90). But shouldn't we say the same about production? Analyzing the economy as production, we again come to “the same philosophical idea of the necessary identity of subject and object, I and not-I, consciousness and nature, which are actually identified in the economy” (97). “It is impossible to explain their interaction under the assumption of alienness between I and non-I. We therefore come to the conclusion about the metaphysical homogeneity of I and non-I, or the unity of the economic logos in them, which is expressed in the practical compliance of nature, its receptivity in relation to the tasks and projects of the I” (98).
So, the identity hypothesis as the basis of economic philosophy is the central idea of S. N. Bulgakov’s book. Let's try to evaluate this idea on its merits.
By S. N. Bulgakov’s own admission, the scientific value of economic philosophy is determined by its practical suitability. If an attempt to orient the world on the farm turns out to be in some sense convenient, if it opens up to us any new aspects of existence, then it is already justified. Let us note first of all that from this point of view it is possible to doubt the scientific value and necessity of economic philosophy. After all, it leads, as we have seen, to the philosophy of identity, but this latter arose without any immediate relation to the fact of economy. Essentially, a philosophy focused on the fact of economic activity does not provide anything new for understanding the world compared to what Schelling gave, who built his philosophy on completely different orientations. To once again prove what others have discovered on the basis of other facts is, in any case, a secondary task. And it is hardly appropriate to say that such a task “belongs, if not today, then tomorrow to philosophy.” But suppose that in the philosophy of S.N.
Bulgakov Schelling played only a minor role. The very fact of economy prompted him to the idea of identity, which had been discovered earlier by Schelling on a different occasion. The question should be about how legitimately S. N. Bulgakov made a conclusion from the fact to its conditions? Is the fact of economy really explained by assuming the hypothesis of the original identity of subject and object? And is it really necessary for the economism of the modern era to resort to the concepts of the old natural philosophy?
In general, it should be noted that we understand the interaction between two different phenomena only if we assume the presence of some initial unity underlying them. It is impossible to understand how something that has absolutely nothing in common can “interact.” From this point of view, one cannot but recognize the correctness of the thought that reduces the interaction between subject and object to some fundamental unity. It is not clear why such unity should be the principle of identity of the old natural philosophy. Is it not possible to explain the fact of economic activity much more simply and much more thoroughly using the hypothesis of the original physical unity of subject and object? In this case, the subject would act in economic activity as the same physical agent as the object. If physical nature “produced” huge deposits of saltpeter in prehistoric times, then doesn’t the same “nature” produce saltpeter when one of its agents is the “subject”, man?
And if “nature” has accumulated enormous wealth of thermal energy in coal deposits or in oil springs, then isn’t the same nature carrying out the reverse process of their gradual consumption, burning them in steam locomotives and blast furnaces? The question of how a subject can influence an object or a person influence nature comes down to the general natural science question of how various natural processes of change in matter are possible. For in economic activity a person acts primarily as a physical agent, and for the cycle of physical life it is completely indifferent whether such an agent is a person or solar energy. Our natural science, with the entirety of its scientific hypotheses, the principles of which have a significant degree of apodictic reliability, explains to us the possibility of this general interaction of physical processes, a small particle of which is the “fact of economy”.
We think that any reflection on how economic interaction between man and nature is possible will first of all turn to this simple hypothesis, which is based on the ponderous baggage of modern natural science. And if S.N. Bulgakov does not come to it, it is only because in the question: how is an economy possible, he thinks much more than we formulated it. The formulation of his main question is ambiguous, and different meanings of this formulation require a transition to the hypotheses of the old natural philosophy.
How is farming possible? The question, formulated in this way, asks not only about the possibility of physical interaction between man and nature. He also asks how it is possible for two physical agents to organize themselves in specific ways that serve specific purposes. The fact of change in physical processes remains the same, whether the agent here is man or nature itself. But nature does not have “intention” in its actions, but man does. That is why in nature we talk about simple “changes” and “processes,” while in human life we talk about “economy.” Here consciousness, purpose, and reasonable plan are added. These are completely new categories that are not reducible to categories of a mechanical nature. When we ask how an economy is possible, we ask not only about the possibilities of physical processes, but about the possibility of the emergence of this consciousness, intention, this intelligent plan. The hypotheses of natural science do not give us an answer to the last question, and therefore “Philosophy of Economics” by S.N.
Bulgakova pushes them away and leans toward Schelling's identity hypothesis.
It should be noted that the latter was created primarily for this purpose, and it should be recognized that of all the hypotheses explaining the origin of spirit in the world, the hypothesis of identity is the most acceptable and undeniable. It is not without reason that modern metaphysics in its subtle and sublime speculations leans toward it 1070. But we have already said that economic philosophy does not add anything new to this hypothesis. Economic intention is one of the manifestations of spiritual activity in general, and, moreover, such a manifestation, the essential features of which, at least in the understanding of S. N. Bulgakov, do not give us any new explanations of the identity hypothesis. Even more, the philosophy of identity, built on the basis of the philosophy of economics, is powerless to move us in solving some of the difficulties associated with Schelling’s philosophical worldview. It is known that Schelling in his philosophy encountered the need to reconstruct the very concept of nature and at the same time parted ways with positive natural science.
Thus, Schelling cut himself off from a reasonable recognition of those proven methods that natural science has long used to explain physical phenomena. Schelling's philosophy of nature is powerless in the face of nature itself; it gets entangled in fruitless tricks when explaining its phenomena and hopelessly gives up. And it is no less powerless to explain to us the possibility of the fact of economy as the most ordinary natural, physical phenomenon in which one physical factor - man - interacts with another physical factor - with any phenomenon of the external world. The Philosophy of Economics, this new and brilliant confirmation of the philosophy of identity, does not mention these difficulties to us in a single word. She accepts almost without reservation “Schelling's fundamental idea as the theme and task for modern philosophy” (74). Does she thereby accept Schelling’s doctrine of nature? This basic question remains completely unexamined and unresolved.
Be that as it may, since we are dealing with the spiritual side of economic activity, the hypothesis of identity cannot be considered inappropriate. If the economy is one of the manifestations of the spirit, then the explanation of economic activity must naturally use the hypotheses of the philosophy of the spirit. In essence, the positive side of the idea of the philosophy of economics comes down to this thought - that idea, which, thanks to the lack of differentiation of problems, appears to S. N. Bulgakov as a kind of philosophical revolution.
But it is precisely on this non-distinction of problems that the entire edifice of economic philosophy rests. We have already seen that the question is: how is farming possible? contains two completely different problems: firstly, the question of the possibility of economy as a physical phenomenon, and secondly, the question of the possibility of economic intent. It is not difficult to show, further, that this question conceals a third, new and, moreover, very significant side. The economy is a phenomenon of the moral world and, as such, cannot but be subject to the judgment of moral criticism. When we ask in this general form: how is economy possible? We also put the following meaning into this question: how is economy possible as a phenomenon of the moral world? In other words, is economic activity acceptable from the point of view of moral principles, does this activity represent any moral value? The question of the possibility of farming cannot but be an ethical question. This is precisely what S.N. Bulgakov lacks.
It cannot be said that the author did not feel the importance of the ethical formulation of the question for his chosen topic. “We live,” says S. N. Bulgakov at one point in his book, “under the impression of the growing power of the economy, which opens up boundless prospects for the “creativity of culture.” And in order to treat this undoubtedly grandiose and majestic fact with philosophical consciousness, which, like the riddle of the Sphinx, stands before the modern Oedipus either as an ominous sign or as a prophetic omen, we must first of all answer ourselves: what is this human “creativity” of culture and economy, how and with what power does man create here? Is this the beginning of humanity’s coming of age, its entry into its rights over nature, which it once lost? Or are these “miracles of the Antichrist,” signs to seduce the faithful, a conjuring deception, the theft from God of his creation with the power contained in it, in order to seduce wretched humanity with this stolen energy?” (135).
It would seem that after these strong words the author remains to move on to the only correct ethical solution to issues of economic philosophy. Otherwise, the entire philosophy of farming may seem morally sterile and unnecessary. Nevertheless, the author does not raise an ethical question. “We pose this ultimate question here only as a logical limit; its discussion relates to the eschatology of the economy (in the next part of this work)” (44). One must be surprised at the intentions of the venerable author, who voluntarily imposes on himself an intolerable and severe philosophical asceticism, wanting for the time being to remain silent about what a philosopher of economics cannot remain silent about. What does S. N. Bulgakov’s book actually philosophize about? About the “thieves’” enterprise of the Antichrist, as he himself puts it, or about a positive moral principle? Let's wait to resolve this until volume two! What if the second volume says that farming is simply a “thieves’ business”, that it is something morally unnecessary and harmful. Then, perhaps, the stamp of the Antichrist will be imprinted on the entire first volume.
One should be even more surprised at this asceticism, since S. N. Bulgakov considers himself to a certain extent a disciple of Vl. Solovyov, a successor of his philosophical traditions. Vl. Soloviev considered “the isolation of the economic sphere of relations as independent from the moral conditions of human activity in general” as a false and immoral phenomenon. In this regard, he interpreted the economic issue primarily from a moral point of view and formed one of the chapters of his “Justification of the Good.” A false and one-sided passion for Schelling makes S. N. Bulgakov forget the precepts of his teacher. It is not ethics that serves for him as the basis for solving the problem of economic philosophy, but, on the contrary, the author wants to build ethics on the basis of economic philosophy. The ethical question should therefore occupy the last place in the consistent development of problems in the philosophy of economics.
This is how it should be, but in reality this is not how it happens. In fact, is it possible to assume that S. N. Bulgakov will write an entire volume dedicated to approving and even praising the “thieves’ deed” of the Antichrist? I believe too much in the seriousness of S. N. Bulgakov’s Christian convictions to say without doubt: if he had doubted for a minute who he served, he would not have written his book. He wrote it because the above ethical question had already been resolved by him long ago and resolved in a positive direction. The economy was justified, its value was established - and all this on the basis of the same universal hypothesis of identity.
What is this whole world that lies before us for a true believer of the identity hypothesis? A product of an initial falling away from the absolute and at the same time a return to it, a gradual liberation from the “leaden cover of eternity and fossilization” (108). We are talking here about the evolutionary side of Schelling's theory, about his doctrine of development. “Schelling calls the history of nature the history of consciousness; it ends with the appearance of consciousness. But having reached this threshold, by the soaring of unconscious and blind, although expedient, for still rational forces, nature seems to outgrow itself.” A new history begins - the history of self-consciousness, “unconscious growth is replenished, and partly replaced by conscious reproduction” (107). Schelling only missed one thing: he did not connect this history of self-awareness with the concept of economy as a necessary member in the evolution of the world. The new farming philosophy is designed to fill this deficiency. The economy, according to S.N.
Bulgakov, is one of the necessary stages in the development of the world and the evolution of consciousness, “the era of economics is an equally characteristic and definite era in the history of the earth, and through it the history of the cosmos, like other eras, other stages already described by Schelling” (107), “the very process of economics is conditioned... by space sickness, the gap between natura naturans and natura naturata 1071. Therefore, the goal of the economy, its limit, is to overcome this disease, to restore the unity of natura naturans and natura naturata, the super-naturalness of nature” (124). “The path of economy is the organization of the world as life” (126).
It is not difficult to see that, in fact, in these concepts the problem of justifying the economy posed above has already been resolved. Economy is morally necessary, for it serves the moral purpose of the cosmos, the resolution of the dispute between life and death. Why else postulate some kind of initial and independent ethical formulation of the question of economy? Why bother the name of Vl. Solovyova?
But here again we observe a phenomenon common in the history of philosophy: a hypothesis, designed to destroy what is beyond its competence, fulfills its task only through a more or less unconscious play of concepts. This is, in essence, what all theoretical amoralism does, whether it appears in the garb of the truths of theoretical natural science or the truths of naturalistic metaphysics. The philosophy of economics easily dispenses with ethics due to the fact that it includes in the everyday use of its concepts unproven and nowhere verified ethical premises. The identity hypothesis so simply solves the question of justifying economy because the concept of economy is assigned an extremely broad meaning. “Economy,” says S. N. Bulgakov, “is the creative activity of man over nature; Possessing the forces of nature, he (man) creates from them what he wants. He creates, as it were, his own new world, new goods, new knowledge, new feelings, new beauty - he creates culture, as the common formula of our days says” (135).
In these words, an equal sign is placed between economy and culture. Isn’t the concept of economy thus ennobled, and doesn’t it thereby acquire a special, ethical character? Doesn't this carelessness also conceal the breadth of definitions for solving the greatest and most difficult ethical problems? We can easily verify that this is indeed the case: S. N. Bulgakov everywhere deals with such an ethically groomed concept of economy. On page 78 of his book we are introduced to the concept of “physical communism of being,” by virtue of which a certain constant relationship is established between the living and the dead in the universe. The law of this relationship is that the living “constantly makes an attack on the kingdom of the lifeless, with its warm tentacles it captures and carries away cold and lifeless substances and turns them into living tissue” (78). Farming for S.N.
Bulgakov is one of the manifestations of this communism, “economy is the struggle of man with the elemental forces of nature in order to protect and expand life, conquer and humanize nature, transform it into a potential human organism” (43). In the economic process “the desire is expressed to transform dead matter... into a living body. The goal of economics can be defined as the transformation of the entire cosmic mechanism into a potential or actual organism” (43). “The demiurge in the economic process organizes nature, transforming its mechanism into an organism, resolving its dead products into the living forces that gave birth to them; he makes nature, which has become only an object, again a subject-object, restores in consciousness the lost and forgotten unity of natura naturans and natura naturata, and thereby turns the world into a work of art, in which from each product its idea shines, and the whole world as a whole becomes a cosmos, like a defeated, pacified and enlightened chaos from within. Therefore, the victory of economy is expressed in the cosmic victory of beauty” (124).
Economy, life, art, culture - all these concepts are almost identical for S. N. Bulgakov. And where, one might ask, is all the negative side of the economic process, all its nightmare and horror? After all, if you don’t close your eyes to reality, you can only talk about the physical communism of existence, and even more so about the communism of the economic process, only ironically, putting the word “communism” in quotation marks. What kind of communism is this, if life, in order to prolong itself, destroys thousands of other lives in the economic process, what kind of business is this of the Demiurge when it is based on the organized beating and destruction of living things? Aren't slaughterhouses one of the foundations of our economic life? But more than that, this is, to a certain extent, murder squared. In the economic process, as it occurs historically, man kills not only animals, but indirectly, through slavery, exploitation, and poverty, he also kills his own kind. Let the result someday result in space, but it is based on the destruction of living things. It’s surprising that this has to remind S.N.
Bulgakov - him, who so acutely understood and posed this problem in one of his early articles 1072. Only blindness by theory explains the fact that he, who is so deeply concerned about ethical issues, has to fruitlessly push back their solution and replace it with a number of dark and little-speaking words, such as physical communism, panzoism, 1073 karma, eschatology, etc. The question is clear: nature in its development needed to go through the economic stage, a harsh and cruel stage, a stage in the moral value of which it is possible and must doubt. The natural philosophical and metaphysical hypothesis of identity can explain to us why this stage is to a certain extent necessary, but this hypothesis is powerless to resolve the question of its moral value. S. N. Bulgakov does not seem to understand the deep difference between these two problems. And it turns out that he, a student of Vl.
Solovyov, philosophizes about farming without ethics; that he, a terrible admirer of that religious and moral teaching that proclaimed the principle: be like the birds of the air, who do not sow, do not reap and do not gather into granaries, identifies farming with culture, with the moral cosmos and with beauty.
We can summarize: the philosophy of the world as an economic process became possible thanks to the hardly acceptable in philosophy non-distinction between problems and concepts. And there is nothing surprising here. The philosophy of economics, as we have already said, is a kind of political-economic positivism - in other words, the elevation of the methods of private science to the level of comprehensive philosophical principles. The philosophy of economics suffered the fate of all positivism - only in an even more dramatic manifestation, because the philosophy of economics wanted to build its worldview on the methods of an unstable and underdeveloped science.
We will now talk about “philosophy of economics” in the narrow sense of the word. What does S. N. Bulgakov’s book contribute to social science in general and political economy in particular?
To answer what “philosophy of economics” contributed to these sciences, we need to look at how it relates to science in general? In part, we have already seen the wanderings between logicism and skepticism in which the author revolved when posing his topic. But the same ambiguities, the same contradictions characterize his view of science. He stands halfway between complete scientific skepticism and between that theory of knowledge that seeks to provide a solid justification for the cognitive value of our science.
Read the following quotes taken from various places in the book by the respected author. We have before us a number of logically contradictory judgments that mutually negate each other:
In the left column it is stated that science is alien to truth, in the right, on the contrary, it becomes involved in the truth; to the left, the only reality of the sensory is recognized, and logic is declared a “shadow”; to the right, reality is attributed to logic and reason; to the left, scientific consciousness is likened to the famous Platonic myth 1074, and hence the metaphysical uselessness of science is postulated; to the right, science becomes a necessary tool in the hands of world wisdom, which through science takes possession of the world; to the left, in accordance with everything stated above, history is declared to be the transcendental truth and therefore any historical scientific progress, any approximation to the absolute is denied; to the right, real progress is seen in the development of science. The critic's gaze stops in complete bewilderment. Is this a deliberate desire to “shock” the mind, or simply the result of ill-conceived philosophical premises? If it were the first, a natural end would be put to further reasoning: whoever denies reason has nothing to convince.
But there is reason to believe the opposite. True, sometimes the author seems to consciously want to place himself “on the other side” of reason, but sometimes the lack of logic begins to bother him. Then he tries to eliminate this anxiety. “There is no Truth in science” – “the stamp of Truth lies on science”; is it possible with a calm scientific conscience to simultaneously defend these two positions? Obviously not. And so S. N. Bulgakov begins to make reservations. “There is no truth in Science,” but “science bears the stamp of truth,” “Truth is in process, in formation” (183). Sein, Nishts, Werden! 1075 As it was with Hegel. And without any reservations or explanations. As if the concept of “becoming”, and even when applied to truth, does not contain a most complex philosophical problem, over which Hegelianism itself was shattered and which, after Hegel, was hardly fully resolved! But still, in this case, the logical non sens 1076 seems to have been eliminated, which cannot be said about the other above-mentioned contradictions.
How can it be that reality lies only in immediate experience, and not in “pure logic,” and at the same time, reality lies in “logic,” therefore, not only in immediate experience? How can it be that our history is “bad infinity,” i.e., fruitless wandering and eternal return, and at the same time in history there is “real, real progress”?..
We understand in general what S. N. Bulgakov’s intentions were. We even approve of them, we accept them philosophically. The respected author is not satisfied with modern rationalism, developing in the latest teachings of “pure logic”. The solution to the problem of the rational and the irrational, which is given by modern supporters of “pure logic,” may rightly not be satisfactory, since in it the “irrational” is assigned too small a role. A protest may also be aroused by the fact that the basis for solving this problem are examples of the rational sciences - mathematics and pure physics - and that the debate about the rational and the irrational is now oriented towards them. All these are fair doubts, but can they be resolved so nominally and verbally, as S. N. Bulgakov does? It’s easy to take and place, along with the teachings of “pure logic,” the opposite teachings of the “pragmatists.” And admit that the truth is both there and here, and not in synthesis, but in a mechanical combination of both opposing judgments. In the history of philosophy, this way of solving problems is called eclecticism.
With a similar eclectic view of science, S. N. Bulgakov begins the question of the value and significance of the social sciences.
Recently, in European philosophy and in European science, the problem of the formation of socio-scientific and historical concepts has become especially acute. The general meaning of posing such a problem is that the rich development of social and historical knowledge has revealed a number of difficult-to-describe features that distinguish the nature of physical truths from the nature of historical and social truths. Human thought strives to reveal these features - with all the greater zeal that some new relationship between the logical and the empirical, between the rational and the irrational is revealed here.
It seems that the errors of all previous rationalism will be revealed as soon as this complex and tangled knot is untied. And it is extremely annoying that S. N. Bulgakov, coming close to this idea - after all, it is, as noted, the main idea of "Philosophy of Economics" - he hardly gives much to solve it. We have already seen that for S. N. Bulgakov, science is the kingdom of “shadows”. “Every science stylizes reality in its own way, and all scientific concepts are products of such deliberate and conscious stylization, and the prototype of scientificity here, indeed, is the mathematical stylization of reality, with its transformation into the world of geometric bodies and mathematical quantities” (249). “Mathematics distorts reality, creating lines and figures that do not exist anywhere in their pure form, turning the world into geometric bodies” (257). But social science must stylize and distort reality in exactly the same way.
“And for a political economist or sociologist there is no reason not to follow here the mathematician’s technique, which is typical for science in general” (257). “Even the uglier the better: how much does mathematics disfigure reality...” (ibid.). “One cannot object in principle to this method of abstraction and isolation as such. Let political economy invent non-existent people who have no backbone, as Ruskin indignantly 1077" (256). In this sense, “even the fiction of economic man developed by political economy” is legitimate (257).
Based on these definitions, one might think that economic philosophy considers it necessary to erase everything that has been discovered and revealed by the social and philosophical thought of modern times. It proceeds from the affirmation of the fundamental identity of the ways and means of the natural sciences and the socio-historical sciences. It even comes to the rehabilitation of “classical” political economy. However, we would be wrong if we considered S.N. Bulgakov a consistent supporter of these views.
Social laws, as they say on p. 272 books, “have a completely different logical nature than, for example, the laws of mechanics or mathematical science.” But what is this special nature? And how can it be allowed if social laws are products of the same stylization, the same corruption of reality, which is practiced in mathematical science? Here again there is a direct contradiction, and it cannot be resolved with those non-explanatory reservations that the author resorts to 1078. Again two completely opposite views are presented, the synthesis of which is achieved in a purely nominal and verbal way. But the result is complete philosophical ruin, and nowhere is this destruction of science more clearly demonstrated than in the chapters devoted to the justification of social science.
Let us take the prevailing point of view of S.N. Bulgakov, according to which the similarity and even identity of the nature of “abstractions” in natural sciences with abstractions used in the social sciences is affirmed.
After all, no matter what epistemological views we adhere to, the fact still remains that the nature of mathematical “abstractions” differs significantly from the nature of “abstractions” used in political economy, such as, for example, “economic man.” We may hold the view that there is an nth number of spaces with an nth number of dimensions, but still within the limits of our three-dimensional, Euclidean space, no one will seriously doubt the correctness and reality of the truth that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points. Is it possible in this way not to doubt the fiction of “economic man”? We want to say that mathematical “abstractions” have some wonderful property of self-evidence and reality, which the “abstractions” of political economy do not have. And S.N. Bulgakov’s point of view does not explain this difference to us, yet it is extremely important for the fate of socio-economic science.
Given the presence of self-evidence characteristic of mathematical truths, there is nothing dangerous that mathematics is a product of “stylization” of reality. It is self-evident that such “stylization” is necessary, because we cannot think otherwise. But how can one justify “stylization” in political economy, the abstract truths of which have no obviousness? S. N. Bulgakov senses this danger and wants to protect himself from it. “But if social science,” he says, “is based on fiction... then its very existence becomes problematic.” This question, according to the author, can only be answered by turning to the concept of utility: the basis for the “stylizations” that social science uses is the practical suitability of these “stylizations.” But we have already seen that utility and practicality cannot justify science. Nowhere is the destructive nature of the author's pragmatism more pronounced than in these views on social science, and nowhere does it so obviously lead the author into irreconcilable contradictions.
Social science, according to S. N. Bulgakov, is possible because its fictions “withstand practical tests” and turn out to be “technical.” And since the “technique” of social science is “politics,” then the final foundations of social science are rooted in politics. “Social policy is the nerve of social science; it holds the keys to all its buildings” (266). One may ask whether this is not a return to that “subjective method in sociology”, the impossibility of which was clarified in the Marxist period of the author’s philosophical development? And indeed, a rapprochement takes place, although the author tries to distinguish his point of view from subjectivist sociologists. In Russian “subjective sociology,” according to the author, “there was a correct feeling that a certain subjectivism—not knowledge, but will—has influence in the construction of a social ideal. However, she mistakenly attributed this subjectivism to scientific research, that is, precisely where it should be banished, unless we want to devalue scientific work” (267).
But doesn’t the author himself attribute “subjectivism” “to scientific research,” arguing that social policy is the “nerve” of social science, that it “holds the keys to the entire edifice of social science?” that the value of social science rests on the political usefulness and usefulness of its truths, etc.? Since in social policy, as the author himself admits, not only “cognition” but also “will” plays a role, then this “subjective” element cannot but transfer to social science, which is entirely guided by political interest. That, of course, scientific work under such conditions will completely “depreciate” - “Philosophy of Economics” testifies to this. S. N. Bulgakov, characterizing social policy, quite rightly points out its connection with the historical period in the development of mankind that we are now experiencing. Social policy is the product of the gradually increasing socialization of life, the product of its mechanization and socialization, the result of the extinction of individual feelings of love and affection.
In today’s society, “the warmth of personal relationships is being supplanted by the social-utilitarian rationalism of immediate feeling - the notorious “principledness”, so that the successes of socialism and the growth of social solidarity are by no means accompanied by an increase in love and even sympathy and a decrease in enmity between people” (286). It is clear, therefore, that in the image of Vl. Solovyov, the culmination of that social mood, which is characterized by the impoverishment of spontaneity and the growth of utilitarian rationalism, turns out to be the Antichrist (268)! So this is the foundation, the “nerve” and the main “key” of social science! It is useful to that time stage in the development of humanity, the essential features of which are best characterized by its proximity to the Antichrist...
S. N. Bulgakov in his “Philosophy of Economics” not only did not substantiate social science, but destroyed it. That eclecticism, torn apart by contradictions, on which the author stands cannot be any solid foundation for philosophy, and for science in general, and for socio-economic science in particular.
S. N. Bulgakov’s book is an experience in constructing an integral philosophical worldview, and therefore contains a significant number of other scientific, methodological and philosophical problems. It's not our job to go through them all, we just wanted to touch on the basics. And defects found in the fundamentals cannot but affect all the conclusions. A more detailed criticism might discover that eclecticism permeates all the conclusions of the book being analyzed; the entire “Philosophy of Economics” is thoroughly saturated with it. As a happy exception, one can only point to the independent chapter on economic materialism. The author’s task here is purely critical, but by criticism we do not mean one-sided rejection, to which the author was so inclined when assessing Western philosophy, but the living assimilation of teaching by penetrating into its problems and by organically overcoming them.
“Economic materialism must be overcome, and it can only be overcome in a positive way, recognizing its truth, understanding its motives, but rejecting its limitations and distortions” (295). We think that this chapter compares favorably with others precisely because of the presence of this deep historical-critical mood. After all, what S. N. Bulgakov says about economic materialism should rightfully be applied to all Western philosophy. “It is very easy to criticize so-called economic materialism, revealing all its incompleteness, illegality, and ugly one-sidedness. He has too many vulnerable sides that are open to criticism.” But this is not only economic materialism - this is also Kantianism, Fichtianism, Hegelianism, positivism, pragmatism, etc. However, a true philosopher does not treat them “with either disdain or disgust.” We fear that in relation to the majority of Western philosophical systems, S. N. Bulgakov did not act like a true philosopher.
Having decided that the truth lies beyond them, branding them with various unflattering epithets on this basis, S. N. Bulgakov lost his sense of logic in relation to them. On the one hand, as we have seen, he was forced to accept their own basic concepts. The attempt to build a new philosophical Rome on their denial hardly succeeded. Instead of Rome, S. N. Bulgakov is forced to wander through the churches and idols of the new and old world, to worship both the “Chinese dragon of criticism” and the American god of praxis. But on the other hand, the assimilation of these concepts of Western philosophy necessarily turned out to be extremely external. They stand before S.N. Bulgakov not as living forces that reveal a living, immanent logic of development, but as vague ghosts, alien to certain boundaries and permanent outlines. Hence the eclecticism of “Philosophy of Economics,” this most striking expression of the lack of a sense of logic. S.N.
Bulgakov is blind to the perception of the immanent dialectic of the philosophical systems of the West, which is why he so easily connects the doctrine of Sophia with the transcendental method, and this latter with pragmatism, intuitionism, mysticism, etc.
We have already talked about the fresh philosophical mood that permeates S. N. Bulgakov’s book. Why did this mood remain a mood and not lead to any positive philosophical synthesis? We think that the main reason for this was the philosophical nationalism of S. N. Bulgakov, under the influence of which the logic of Western philosophy was reduced to zero. S. N. Bulgakov went to the opposite extreme of modern Western philosophical epigonism: in the latter, students of students and epigones of epigones lose their sense of philosophical perspective over petty disputes between schools; in the first, national philosophers, trying to free themselves from any connection with the West, are both blinded by the breadth of the horizon ahead of them and fall ill with a kind of logical color blindness.
This is my deep conviction from reading this book. Feeling its penetrating mood, you see in the author a true friend of philosophy and warmly give him your hand; but in this friend one involuntarily glimpses an appearance hostile to philosophy, as soon as you begin to take a closer look at how the author wants to philosophize and in what ways he tries to solve the interesting and deep problems he poses.
I. Tsingovatov. Sergei Bulgakov. Philosophy of farming. Part one: The world as an economy 1079
M.: Publishing house “Put”, 1912. P. 231. Ts. 2 r.
Mr. Bulgakov is a specialist in the field of political economy; Mr. Bulgakov was once a Marxist, then an idealist, and currently he is a mystic and an Orthodox Christian. All these features - Mr. Bulgakov's specialization in a certain area, and his past hobbies, and his current theological and philosophical views - in his new work are intertwined into some strange, bizarre pattern.
Like almost any specialist who has been dealing with a certain number of issues in a certain field of science for a long time, Mr. Bulgakov tends to put all the complexity and diversity of problems about the world and life into a scheme of categories and concepts that are closest to him as a specialist. True, “with the mind” or “small mind,” as Orthodox neo-Christians now express it, borrowing, however, this expression from the atheist Nietzsche, Mr. Bulgakov seems to understand the whole danger of this tendency, inherent in people who specialize in one thing. Thus, we find in him, for example, an energetic rebuke to the special sciences, which forget about their core: “When the conclusions of the special sciences are applied beyond their conventional significance, when they are accepted as unconditional truths about things and life, a whole series of nightmares of a pseudoscientific worldview are generated that hang like a thick cloud over modernity” (249). Mr. Bulgakov argues in approximately the same way regarding political economy when, in his opinion, it goes beyond the limits of its competence.
This is what the “small mind” says; but, besides this small mind, there is also a “Big Mind”, which, of course, is much stronger than the small one (after all, it is Big and is written only with capital B and R, which puts it on the same level as the Absolute, Sophia, Logos and other personae gratissimae 1080 of the neo-Christian dictionary). So it is this Big Reason, whose decisions are categorical, that commands Mr. Bulgakov, despite the protests of the small one, to consider the whole world sub specie 1081 of economic relations. “Philosophy of Economics” is not some generalizing theory of political economy or economic policy: it is the answer to all damned and uncursed questions, it is a whole system of religious and philosophical worldview.
“Our time understands, feels, experiences the world as an economy (author’s italics), and the power of humanity as wealth primarily in the economic sense... Life is primarily an economic process” (author’s italics, p. 2). Isn’t it clear that such thoughts can only be born in a mind “oriented” towards political economy? Isn’t it clear that only a specialist who is too keen on assessing the significance of his side in the vast church of science can say this?
Just as strongly, in Mr. Bulgakov’s new book, his seemingly long-lived passion for economic materialism makes itself felt. They say first love never rusts. Mr. Bulgakov's first passion, of course, has become rusty, and yet, even through the mystical rust, it - sometimes for entire pages - shines so much that it seems as if Mr. Bulgakov has remained a Marxist to this day. From the very first pages he almost sings a hymn to economic materialism; of course, with reservations - after all, this is still materialism, i.e. atheism, nihilism, etc.; but the Orthodox Christian Mr. Bulgakov is ready to forgive economic materialism many of its sins for the fact that it is economic materialism. It turns out that not to experience the charm of economic materialism means “to have some kind of defect in historical well-being, to be internally alien to modernity” (3). And the contents of the last page of Mr.
Bulgakov is entitled: “The Truth of Economic Materialism”; this is “a special truth of life, not theoretical, but practical, moral”; this is “the truth that is expressed on the first pages of the book of existence of the human race” - a quote from Genesis follows: “Cursed is the earth for your sake...”, etc. And here are a few more “words of praise” for economic materialism: “In economic materialism, the stern honesty of life speaks” (245). “It is the first attempt at the philosophy of economics, its problem was consciously posed for the first time, a new motive was sounded in the history of thought, inspired, of course, not by armchair speculation, but by life impressions of reality” (296). “He understands the world as an economy... this thought is deep and significant” (307). “A new and, it seems to us, ore-bearing vein comes to the surface. A bright idea has been expressed, a unique problem has been posed, a new philosophical anxiety has been awakened” (320).
We could give many more similar quotes, but it seems that these are enough to see what a faithful knight of economic materialism Mr. Bulgakov remains after all his transformations.
As for Mr. Bulgakov’s idealism, this passion of his, unlike the first, was short-lived and fragile. Traces of it in “Philosophy of Economy” are visible only in the fact that Mr. Bulgakov poses his main problems in Kantian style: “How is economy possible? What are its a priori assumptions or preconditions? What is the philosophical meaning and significance of the basic economic functions? (74). This, of course, is unimportant; for this you do not need to have a passion for idealism in your past. That Mr. Bulgakov was once an idealist is evidenced rather by the passion with which he conducts polemics against Kantianism: and in those places devoted to this polemic, Mr. Bulgakov expresses many ideas that, if taken away from the general background of “Philosophy of Economics,” may seem valuable not only for Orthodox Christians. He quite successfully notices the pretentiousness of Kant’s “Copernicanism”, points out the abstract theoretical nature, passivism of Kant’s philosophy, and the lack of relevance and dynamism in it.
Contrasting Kant’s epistemology with his own “economic” one, Mr. Bulgakov seems to be even approaching... Avenarius. “Labor,” he says, “which occupies so much space in the teachings of political economy, thus receives paramount importance in epistemology, although the latter never took it into account, did not “orient itself” on the fact of labor, living energy, inextricably welding subject and object, although this would mean being guided by the most immediate given” (99). “Labor as the basis of epistemology removes the problem of the existence of the external world (as well as the alien self), as an idealistic fabrication, a phantom of abstract thought” (103). All this is true, the only thing that is not true is that epistemology has never taken this into account. If Mr. Bulgakov has read the “Critique of Pure Experience”, he should know that it is labor (work) that is the basis of Avenarius’ epistemology, that it is thanks to this that for the philosophy of pure experience the problems of the external world and the alien self are “removed”, “as an idealistic fabrication”. But this closeness of the epistemological views of Mr.
Bulgakov’s approach to empirio-criticism is completely accidental: at all costs he needs to be cleansed of his fall from grace - idealism - and he is ready to seize even the so-called naive realism, restored to its philosophical rights by Mach and Avenarius. (More Therefore, for him, the exit (course aut) of the subject into the object is excluded by the very concept, and subject-objectivism is posited in a single, identical, timeless act: the mystery of the Holy Trinity and intra-three life! (98)...
Here we must move on to the mystical-Christian views of Mr. Bulgakov; but before doing so, we consider it appropriate to make one remark. Mr. Bulgakov is an Orthodox Christian, in Christianity he found the answer to all the answers to the world; but in his book there is absolutely no religious pathos, there is none of the ease and confidence with which a truly religious person overturns all the difficulties that arise before him. In this respect, Mr. Bulgakov lagged significantly behind his comrade-in-arms, Mr. Berdyaev; he, as soon as he became a Christian, declared that the laws of logic are a disease of being, did not stop at Tertullian’s credo quia absurdum est, and no longer flirts with logic: absurd from the point of view of logic, so much the worse for it. Mr. Bulgakov does not have this ease; he still cannot throw off the shackles of logic, although he really strives for this. For him, frank and divinely inspired books are still not enough; he cannot do without earthly authorities: he will express some thought - and immediately there will be a footnote, which inevitably begins with the phrase: “Schelling says...”
There is no firmness of faith, which means that the most valuable thing that a religious worldview can give is missing, and yet everything negative that a religious worldview brings with it is evident in Mr. Bulgakov’s book.
First of all, there is complete isolation from the earth, a kind of cloudiness, stubbornly refusing to take into account how things are going on the sinful earth. After reading Mr. Bulgakov’s book, one is left with the impression that its author flew away somewhere to the mountain heights and there is engaged in political economy. He, for example, writes: “The fact that I am now moving a pen across paper and making a new arrangement of atoms of ink, paper, pen steel, etc., reasoning in principle, is the same cosmic event as astronomical or geological catastrophes, for it also changes the picture of the world (apparently, a typo - it should be the same. - I. Ts.), although with less force (however, even this cannot be said, because there is no commensurability these events), as well as these catastrophes” (76). It is clear that a person for whom writing is the same cosmic event as geological and astronomical catastrophes has lost all sense of earthly perspective. Therefore, we should not be surprised when we encounter an attempt by Mr.
Bulgakov to establish the laws of economic relations in the “paradise economy” (156), or with his theory of “pure economy”, the “transcendental subject” of which is either humanity (114) or the World Soul (122), the goal, the limit, is “the restoration of the unity of natura naturans and natura naturata - the supernatural nature of nature” (124). Here, in the light of the “economic logos” (98), it turns out that such a simple, ordinary matter from a human point of view, like food, is not at all so simple that “food is communion of the flesh of the world,” a preliminary to the sacrament - communion of the flesh of the Son of God (86); that “the possibility of consumption (emphasis added) is fundamentally based on the metaphysical communism of the universe” (87).
It is impossible to present in any intelligible way the foundations of the theory of “paradise farming”, because intelligibility in such things is not allowed according to the state; Let us note only a few points in which the heavenly political economy differs especially sharply from the earthly one. Here is an excerpt from the first: “Economic life comes down to metabolism, to a certain circulation or alternation of inhalation and exhalation. In the language of political economy, inhalation corresponds to production, and exhalation corresponds to consumption (why not vice versa? - I. Ts.). The economic cycle is made up of these two acts, production and consumption” (75). Mr. Bulgakov, as a specialist not only in heavenly political economy, but also in earthly one, knows, of course, that on earth economic activity is expressed not only in production and consumption, but also, for example, in distribution. Even in epistemology “oriented on the fact of labor”, the problem of distribution plays a significant role - in the “Critique of Pure Experience” an entire section is devoted to it.
And in order to have an idea of how acute it is in the field of economic relations - for this you not only do not need to be a specialist in this field, you do not even need to read books on economic issues - it is enough to at least once look with open eyes at reality, at human life. In heaven, the problem of distribution, of course, is “removed”, and therefore in Mr. Bulgakov’s “Philosophy of Economics” not only the word “distribution” is not found, but there is not even any translation of this concept that is more consistent with Mr. Bulgakov’s philosophical style - like inhalation and exhalation: in heaven there is a “metaphysical communism of being”, which means that the problem of distribution there has long been finished.
This is how the “philosophy of economics” in heaven is written. From such an “elevated” point of view, many beautiful, tempting prospects probably open up, and much of what to us, the people of the earth, seems to be the most dear, the most valuable conquest of human genius, seems worthy only of a contemptuous smile to a philosopher who has moved to a transcendental observatory. For example, science. We bless her for the light that she sheds even on the darkest corners of our lives, for the wealth that she brings with her into the world. But Mr.
Bulgakov from his sky-high observatory sends us the news that our science is no good in comparison even with that imperfect and, from his point of view, myth-making that the ancient Romans and Greeks, Egyptians and Persians left us as a legacy: “Uranus and Neptune, Gaia or Cybele, the Great Mother 1082, giving birth to the children of the earth, is philosophically in every In this case, a more satisfactory hypothesis for explaining the universe than absolute chance, which creates developing life from dead matter, from a bag with atoms jumping in it, as taught by the mythology of materialistic hylozoism 1083” (136). “Absolute case” and “a bag with atoms jumping in it” - with this Mr. Bulgakov marks not only democratic materialism, but also all of science in general, for, as he explains elsewhere, “scientific and mechanical worldviews are synonyms” (194).
As for the rosy prospects opening up “from the heights of heavenly paradise,” here, as already indicated, Mr. Bulgakov is not particularly firm; but that doesn't matter. Even if Mr. Bulgakov’s faith had been immeasurably stronger and his eloquence incomparably stronger, his speeches about the Heavenly Sophia and about guardian angels would not have captivated anyone. It takes great mental fatigue, it takes senile flabbiness of the soul in order to isolate yourself from living reality with a screen depicting scenes from the Sacred History of the Old and New Testaments and, fixing your gaze on this screen, stubbornly, persistently convince yourself that it is the real reality depicted on it, yet what lies behind it are the machinations of damned resourcefulness. And even if, even during the years of hopeless reaction, the neo-Christianity of Messrs. Bulgakov and Berdyaev could only be carried away by a few demagnetized intellectuals like themselves, but now, when the intelligentsia begins to awaken from the lethargy of the post-revolutionary period, the work of the newly-minted prophets of Christianity is completely hopeless.
B.V. Yakovenko. Sergei Bulgakov. Philosophy of farming. Part one: The world as an economy 1084
M.: K-vo “Put”, 1912. IV+ 321 +V. Ts. 2 r.
There is no doubt that S. Bulgakov’s book is one of the best works of our religious and philosophical literature and is at the same time one of the most interesting and revealing manifestations of modern Russian philosophical thought. This is evidenced by the novelty of the concept, the serious thoughtfulness of the book, and equally the author’s efforts to be scientific, thorough and evidence-based.
Of course, this does not mean that in each of these three respects S. Bulgakov’s book seems to us to have independent merits. First of all, the novelty of its concept is relative, for as an economic worldview, it rests entirely on the ideas of Christian philosophy, on the teachings of Boehme, Schelling, Baader 1085 and on the philosophical reflections of our Slavophiles; the formulation of the critical question of how economics is possible, especially credited to S. Bulgakov (but, unfortunately, only outlined or, rather, noted by him and completely undeveloped) has its predecessors in the person of Simmel, Münsterberg and, mainly, Croce 1086, of whom the latter introduces economic philosophy into his system of philosophy of spirit, as an area equal to aesthetics, logic and ethics. – Thoughtfulness and scientificity are also relative, because, as will be discussed below, the results of the book by S.
Bulgakov's works are primitively dogmatic, the presentation revolves around far-fetched schemes, and the penetration into the thought of representatives of German idealism and modern epistemology leaves much to be desired.
If we measure it by the scale of scientificity and evidence achieved by philosophy in the West, then we will even have to admit that in this respect it surpasses the completely unscientific and unsubstantiated books of Berdyaev and Ern only from a purely external side, freeing itself from unfair treatment of unstudied opponents and journalistic-polemical foul language, but internally remains on the same plane of theoretical arbitrariness 1087 . – But no matter how relative the indicated advantages of S. Bulgakov’s book may be, they are still present and quite sufficient for us in Russia to consider its appearance an event of no small importance.
In this case, the following three features seem especially valuable. Firstly, it is high time for us too to put forward the problem of economy purely philosophically, to pose Kant’s critical question regarding it and to look at it as a sphere of culture, standing in dignity next to other cultural areas. What will come of this is another question. But in connection with the cultural experiences of the last half-century, such research is undoubtedly extremely important. And many thanks to S.N. Bulgakov for the initiative in this direction. Secondly, the criticism of economic materialism that S. Bulgakov gives does not leave much to be desired, showing the entire illegality of his metaphysical claims. Indeed, the philosophy of economic materialism is based on a complete misunderstanding, on a crude and naive hypostatization of political-economic concepts into metaphysical entities. Finally, thirdly, one cannot help but welcome S.’s initiative.
Bulgakov in the matter of textual study of his enemies, which was so lacking in the representatives of our religious-philosophical movement and the presence of which is so important, if only in order to arouse the real interest of the other side.
But alongside these serious advantages of S. Bulgakov’s book, there are also its no less serious shortcomings. And the first thing is the dogmatism that penetrates her internally. Without any evidence (or at least justification), S. Bulgakov asserts the primacy of life over knowledge and then considers knowledge as one of the manifestations of life. Without any further evidence, he interprets this life either as a general principle, transsubjective to knowledge and reconciling in itself the logical and the illogical, subject and object, then as an organic process of the microcosm, then as its economic process, etc. The whole argument is reduced to illustration with examples that can easily be adapted to any schemes if desired. Meanwhile, neither such a primacy of life over knowledge, nor such schematizations of it are legitimate. In order to assert the primacy of life over knowledge, one must already know life. Even if you declare it the highest secret, you still need to know it as the highest secret. And thereby life (even if it is secret) will be made a problem of epistemology, that is, it will be deprived of its originality.
On the other hand, talking about the primacy of life over knowledge and using the mentioned schemes makes sense only if knowledge is taken as a process. If knowledge is taken as a cognitive meaning, or composition, that is, taken purely epistemologically - and this is the only way philosophy can take it now, for this is the irrevocable achievement of the 19th century - then even the very formulation of the question of the primacy of life over knowledge will lose all meaning: knowledge as meaning will not be subject to the conduct of life as life, in its most immediate meaning.
S. Bulgakov’s reasoning about the starting point in philosophy or about the object of philosophical orientation is equally dogmatic. This latter must always be preliminary, temporary, chosen only for convenience. And it is absolutely correct that from a fundamental point of view, it makes no difference whether its object is science (for example, in Cohen 1088) or economy (in S. Bulgakov himself). But it is also absolutely clear that, starting from science or economics, we still do not make either it or him the main scheme of our philosophizing. The object of orientation is not a philosophical principle and should not be presented as one. In S. Bulgakov we have just such a leap: focusing on the economy, he builds the entire content of his philosophy according to the scheme of the economy - he economizes everything that exists.
All the arbitrariness and sketchiness of such economization is strikingly evident if you focus your attention on the particular examples analyzed by S. Bulgakov. Thus, he illustrates his thoughts about the consumer function in world life using the example of nutrition. What is nutrition, according to S. Bulgakov? “Food is natural communion, communion with the flesh of the world. When I take food, I eat the matter of the world in general” (84). “We eat the world” (83) is S. Bulgakov’s answer. What can I say to this? After all, it is absolutely clear that we eat only this or that individual object (and the number of objects available to eat is extremely limited), and that the world as a whole is not given to us as such an object and is revealed not in food, but in the concept. S. Bulgakov's answer is equal to another, similar: we eat objectivity. It is quite obvious that this is not an answer, but a schematic stretch. And I must admit – the stretch is very light. You can come up with as many such stretches as you like. S. Bulgakov views the world in the category of economics.
It is also easy to view the world in terms of artistry, organicity, sexuality, etc.
However, more significant and in its consequences much more deplorable than all this is the insufficiency of the “Philosophy of Economics” proposed by S. Bulgakov. The fact is that this, after all, is a new (only new) edition of the philosophy of economic materialism. The difference from the old one is only in the spiritualistic-vitalistic cover. The essence and basis is old - the economic, material factor. S. Bulgakov was cramped in the low and small hut of Marx’s economic materialism, and so he attached a religious-spiritualistic tower to it, seasoning Marx with Solovyov (as Prince E. Trubetskoy once quite correctly noted in a debate).
– From this came a kind of conglomerate, material-spiritualism or spiritual-materialism, which, with its arbitrary schematicism, will scare away both materialists (if there are any, which is very difficult for me to believe), and spiritualists, and which, instead of overcoming the false metaphysics of economic materialism, on the one hand, further subordinates philosophy to the illegal machinations of this latter, and on the other, even more deeply violates the meaning of the concepts of scientific economics by their metaphysical use.
As for the chapter devoted to science and modern philosophy based on science, the inconsistency of its main critical thoughts is due to the fact that S. Bulgakov does not want to make a distinction, as mentioned above, between the process of knowledge and the composition of knowledge, between science as a process of research and science as a set of transcendental contents or categories. To knowledge and science in the first sense, undoubtedly, the pragmatic point of view, shared by S. Bulgakov, is suitable to some extent: - the principle of instrumentalism, etc. can be applied here. But pragmatic calculations have nothing to do with knowledge and science in the second sense, because this sphere is initially determined by completely different categories. And until S. Bulgakov feels the deep difference between these two orders of data, methods and points of view, he will not free himself from the constant tendency to impute to Kant, Fichte, Hegel, Cohen, Husserl 1089, Rickert, etc., what they, at least, do not think, but it seems to me - what they do not say.
S. Bulgakov is quite right when he says (3) that it would be a “defect of historical well-being” not to philosophically take into account the enormous role that increasingly falls to the share of the economic factor in life. But, I think, I will not be mistaken if, guided by the same aspirations 1090, I say that for this reason turning the entire content of life and philosophy into an economic fact means revealing “hypertrophy of historical sensitivity” or “defect of systematic well-being.”
. S. Bulgakov. Essays on the history of economic doctrines. Issue I 1091
Author's edition. M., 1913. Price 1 rub. 50 k.
In the introduction, we read the author’s warning against “the danger of amateurism, which awaits each of us especially in our youth and which, I must say frankly, represents some kind of curse weighing on Russian society: may fate save you from this misfortune!” (p. 1). “You” – that is, the students of the Moscow Commercial Institute, to whom the author is addressing. Alas! This “misfortune” insidiously “laid in wait” for Mr. S. Bulgakov himself, and he did not escape from the “curse weighing down” on him for a very long time, ever since he began to think that writing insightful notes about popular novelties in German theological literature means being a religious thinker, and pontificating about the “paradise economy” means creating not the most curious mishmash of economic and ecclesiastical terms, but a majestic building of a harmonious union of two principles: studia divina and studia humana 1092.
You cannot act with impunity for a whole number of years in the role of a hopelessly self-confident (despite all the appearance of a humble “seeking”) amateur - and not dry up your thoughts, and not sterile your spiritual individuality to a significant extent. Rarely does a book give such a boring, downright painful impression as this one. Start with a syllable. This unbearable, “Burmitsky” 1093 (as Shchedrin said) soulful unctuous style, these ready-made, cliché newspaper-pathetic phrases - what is this alone worth! Mr. Bulgakov cannot simply say: “Schopenhauer,” but certainly: “the sage of Frankfurt” (p. 7), just as some newspapermen cannot say “plague,” but must say “Asian guest” (someone noted a long time ago), cannot say “the play was staged,” but must express themselves like this: “saw the footlights,” etc.
Isn’t it an empty stereotype to say, for example, the following phrases: “Our time peers into the future with particular intensity, trying to discern what lies beyond the distances of the historical horizon; it seems to devote itself to nothing with more passionate interest than looking at its future,” etc. How can you not feel that you are not writing, but unsubscribing!
What is the author unsubscribing from? He himself tells us this in the preface: it is necessary to “satisfy the needs of listeners for a printed manual to replace the existing lithographed one.” Before exams they’ll read something like that and won’t even notice, there’s no time for style! But the main problem is that in terms of content it is difficult to imagine a more emasculated “guide” than this meager little book. The author begins with the Jewish prophets and ends with the Reformation, talking about Plato, Aristotle, economic thought among the Romans, early Christianity, the Middle Ages, and the Renaissance. The author does not have any plan of his own, and he simply outlines briefly those books that he fell in love with for some reason; He also notices a desire to occasionally (and for no reason at all) quote primary sources, and all these quotes also turn out to be more or less known and used many times in literature. But, of course, there are no traces of independent study or independent reflection here.
Whether you take a popular socialist brochure or a popular “bourgeois” brochure - if only it treats the history of economic ideas - you will still find the same facts there, swept together in the same way, with the same divisions into periods - as in Mr. Bulgakov’s book. In comparison, the unpretentious essays of M. I. Tugan-Baranovsky seem to be the height of critical profundity, even the old book of the late A. I. Chuprov - the height of freshness and scientific novelty.
Occasionally, however, the author drops aphorisms of his own making, but, “unfortunately or fortunately,” not in the least degree connected with the rest. Or rather, “fortunately,” because these aphorisms are too naive. For example: “In a certain sense, we can say that the foundation of European culture was laid by the work of ascetics.” (We are talking about asceticism as a stimulus for work, “which, of course, cannot be compared with any other, neither coercion, nor personal interest, nor professional duty.”) Or, for example, another independent discovery of Mr. Bulgakov: “The newest socialism can only be considered as a kind of humanism, as a particular application of it or a translation into the language of political economy of its general teachings.” It is difficult to imagine all the hopeless confusion of concepts that must be present to give rise to such a phrase and, as if nothing had happened, to proceed further. After all, if there is anything fundamentally individualistic, it is humanism! But Mr. Bulgakov, generally speaking, does not like humanism very much, and socialism is attached here more in order to reproach humanism.
Why doesn't he like humanism? Here's why: it is “associated with growing religious indifference, and later with hostility towards religion...”. In addition, humanism negatively influenced Adam and Eve: “If Adam and Eve, after the Fall, opened their eyes to their nakedness and they felt the need for clothing, for the protection of the moral law, for constant self-control, then in humanism, on the contrary, it is as if their eyes were closing again” (p. 191).
You will come across two or three such places and think: no, it’s better to let the students of the Moscow Commercial Institute get acquainted with the stencil that fills the entire book, rather than treat them with such profundity. If anything can discourage the desire for the history of economic ideas and interest in questions of faith and Christian ethics, it is precisely such a mishmash of textbook template with pious, but caricature-looking inserts.
On the cover we read: author's edition. This publication, unfortunately, is expensive: one and a half rubles for a skinny “issue” of 230 pages - this is much higher than usual prices. For a publication “aimed at satisfying the needs of its listeners for printed manuals,” the price turns out to be excessive.
S. Golovanenko. S. Bulgakov. Philosophy of farming. Part I: The world as an economy 1094
M.: Knigoizd. "The Path", 1912
“The Philosophy of Economics” by S. N. Bulgakov is related to the “Philosophy of the Common Cause” by N. F. Fedorov. This kinship is felt not only in the joyful question-exclamation: “Death, where is your sting!”, but also in the separate, almost identical tones of this question. And not only the question itself, but also the meaning of the answer is almost the same: the hosanna of all life, which drives away the specter of death: there is no eternal death. However, the blessing of every life can be different. In “Philosophy of the Common Cause,” the fear of death is internally overcome by some exciting, not yet clear, mood in life.
In “Philosophy of Economics” there is no such spontaneity; the mood of life is both clarified and frustrated by logical schemes. And yet, “Philosophy of Economics” seems to be a deliberate response to the perplexities caused by Fedorov’s philosophy. These perplexities can be boiled down to two questions. What is the relationship between the Heavenly Church (Trinity, as a dogma-commandment) and the Earthly Church (Trinity, as the fulfillment of a commandment)? What is the knowledge-action structure?
In “Philosophy of Economics” this is the problem of the transcendent (metaphysics) and the problem of knowledge (epistemology) - precisely those problems that lead us into the turmoil of modern philosophical thought.
The philosophy of S. N. Bulgakov is “Philosophy of Economics” in a double sense: metaphysical and epistemological.
1. Economy, taken in a purely metaphysical aspect, is the basis of being, life; taken in an empirical aspect – revival. The philosophy of economy, therefore, is the philosophy of life and revitalization. As such, it must answer the first perplexing question of Fedorov’s philosophy. – 2. Economy is a fact of political economy. Building a theory of knowledge on this fact gives the philosophy of S. N. Bulgakov a narrow meaning of the philosophy of economics. As such it must figure out the logical structure of life's knowledge. Looking ahead, let us point out a general flaw in the philosophy of economics. The deep thirst for world unity has made us insensitive to disunity, to the diversity of members of the unity, to the diversity of life. Hence the external unification of qualitatively different orders: a mixture of life and revival. Hence - myopia: with disbelief in scientific thought, credulity in the fact of economics, - credulity in one of the forms of the same scientific thought.
The problem of transcendence
The philosophy of economy as metaphysics is a form of Schelling-Soloviev’s philosophy of identity. Household is life. Life is a correlation between the logical and the illogical, the ideal and the real, and at the same time it is superlogical in their identity. The moment of identity and super-logicality is especially valuable, but it is not sufficiently clarified. It's more of a hint, a vague border. Indeed, here our ordinary thought gets confused, as if broken off. We must either surrender to Gnosticism, or drown in the obscurity of experience, or realize the multivalued value of dogma. Forgetting the idea of dogma ultimately turns every philosophy of identity into a philosophy of quantitative equality. In the philosophy of economics, a painful instability is felt: at times the idea of dogma is completely forgotten, life (the transcendental) is mixed with revival (the immanent), and then the “Philosophy of Economics” merges with the ordinary philosophy of life and especially with the philosophy of Bergson 1095.
Fedorov has no idea of the transcendent: the Trinity as a commandment came close to the earthly - future trinity. Bulgakov, with the acceptance of the transcendental natural, was supposed to establish steps in the relations between the Heavenly and Earthly worlds. The problem of the transcendent is resolved in the doctrine of Sophia. Sophia is the source of life and chaos, philo-Sophia. Where does the chaos and deprivation that give birth to love come from? What is the hierarchy of life? Every life is sophia: economy is sophia. But farming is a function of death. Does this mean that Sophia is mortal, that she is responsible for the Fall? And again painful instability. Sometimes it seems that forgetting dogma leads to rejection of the mystery of freedom, which hides the meaning of antinomies. And then the antinomies in the “Philosophy of Economics” turn into obvious contradictions, or outwardly they unite - healthy, sick and diseased members of the world whole. Then a mixing occurs: not only Sophia and the World Soul are mixed, but Sophia and Adam, Sophia and the transcendental subject. We see the same confusion in a purely logical form in the delineation of the character of the ideal-real.
Sometimes the superlogical blurs and the duality of the logical and illogical remains, as in Bergson (memory and matter) and Fedorov (consciousness and the unconscious). The logical as such exhausts all reality. What does it mean? For S. N. Bulgakov, the only lie of Cohen’s scientific rationalism is that epistemology is equated with ontology. In all other respects, obviously, one can agree with Cohen. This means that pure logic, an all-encompassing form, is possible. This means that the logic of scientific reason almost covers the logic of existence: you just need to add something to the logical series, and not internally pacify it - transform it. And suddenly another series of thoughts is encountered, that the scientific mind is a distortion of the Logos, it is a killer of life, it is outside the truth. What is behind this if not the same question: is Sophia mortal? And here are involuntary traces of S.N. Bulgakov’s passion for all kinds of unity, passion for a broad but empty principle: everything is in everything. Volume has eclipsed the content: every whole is accepted as truth.
So, the doctrine of Sophia as the basis of the economy does not solve the problem of the transcendent; at best, it only deepens its formulation.
The ambiguities of the metaphysics of farming are transferred to ordinary, concrete farming. The essence of economy is in the struggle between human and natural, free and necessary, organic and mechanical. The purpose of farming is to protect and expand life. Here we see the same struggling duality as in Fedorov. But Fedorov has a sharp division between man and nature, a sharp affirmation of the universal resurrection. S. N. Bulgakov wants to bring man and nature closer together with his teaching about Sophia. He felt the mystery of the birth of life and hence - he accepts only partial resurrection. The question arises: where is the beginning of the mystery, and in particular the mystery of birth? Where is the limit to resurrection? If Sophia is nature, then is her economy different from the economy of the individual? Let nature be sophia. How to distinguish Sophia and Logos? What does the Logos of things mean? Sometimes S.N. Bulgakov breaks through that the direct path of salvation is a religious feat. Then what is indirectness, where is its line, what is the value of the indirect path? Here we are close to rationalism. The mystery of birth, the economy of personality are externally separated by S.N.
Bulgakov from the rest of the economy, and the economy itself turns out to be diverse. This is especially clear in the problem of labor. In Fedorov, consciousness is characterized by labor, while the unconscious is equated with the gratuitous. For S.N. Bulgakov, farming is a labor activity. Labor has a universal, cosmic significance. “The world as an economy is the world as an object of labor, insofar as it is a product of labor.” Labor is a new cosmogonic factor. Where there is labor, there is life, resurrection, Sophia. Where there is something free, there is death and chaos. Like Fedorov, S.N. Bulgakov leaves the third, or external, in the shadow and separates it. This third is a gift of God, a gift of grace. Does it consist in the “image of God”? Then what is the “similarity”? If within the boundaries of nature there is only the natural-human, then man and nature itself are cut apart. Again we return to the main question of the appearances of Logos and Sophia. And from here - how to distinguish between: the philosophy of economy, the Christian philosophy of economy and the philosophy of Christian economy?... Mixing the seeds of life brings S.N. closer.
Bulgakov from the other end to the same rationalism, with which he fiercely fights. And “Philosophy of Economics,” oddly enough, is still in the nets of pure thought, pure epistemology.
The problem of knowledge is the second perplexing question of Fedorov’s philosophy. Fedorov was tormented by the discord between knowledge and action, scientists and unscientists. With his spirit of life he overcame these torments. But the logical structure of bare, theoretical and business knowledge remained in the dark. For Bulgakov, just as for Fedorov, “economy is knowledge in action, and knowledge is economy in idea.” The economy is the economy of the transcendental subject, sophia; - such is knowledge. Anything? Again the same vagueness. Scientific knowledge is outside the truth and sophistical - this is the expression of the unclear problem of the transcendental.
Science is fractional knowledge, therefore it is outside the Truth. Where the whole is, there is truth. If the whole shines through in science, it is in the Truth. Loneliness was so painful that every community, every whole was accepted as the Truth. Meanwhile, all modern philosophy wants to be and calls itself a philosophy of the whole, a philosophy of systemism. In Bulgakov, neither the character of the whole (the transcendental subject) nor the relationship of the parts is clear. Why? Because the very outcome of epistemology is unclear and ambiguous: the fact of economics. What is farming, labor? Interpenetration of man and nature, subject and object. How should this interpenetration be expressed? In the humanization of nature based on the identity of man and nature, the ideal-real. Humanization is a partial resurrection, the path to “organizing the world as life and truth.” The mystery of birth is the limit to resurrection and not only the limit, but also the derogation of the resurrection itself. The economy is not a village economy, not a textile creation, not a direct path of collecting and resurrecting the ashes of ancestors (Fedorov).
Economy is urban management of things, the spiritualization of things. If Bulgakov talks about resurrection, then it is not about the resurrection of his friends and fathers - Lazarus, but about the resurrection of one half-known Lazarus - nature. Instead of churches and museums left in the haze in villages (Fedorov), there are factories in cities. True, human creativity is not exhausted by partial resurrection, which, in essence, like Fedorov, is only the design of eternally given elements. What is other creativity, what is the economy of the individual - this question, as we know, remains open. Be that as it may, in humanization there is a victory of beauty, glimpses of a heavenly economy. How is this possible? Through the unity of man and nature, present in labor: - in consumption and production. Where does it follow that this unity is the unity of the economic Logos, the product of the transcendental subject? Out of nowhere. The fact of economics, like any scientific fact, is meaningless in itself if the thought is seized with epistemological charm. Just as a fact of science is a fragment of life, so economy and labor are vital.
If in science it is seen as a game of thought, then why in economics should naked thought see a proactive-active, subject-objective attitude of a person to the world? Both knowledge and economy can be interpreted mechanically. Labor, on the basis of “the same nature of I and not-I,” can be explained by their triumph, but by the triumph of equality. This is done crudely and boldly in Bogdanov’s popular book 1096: “The Philosophy of Living Experience.” And for Bogdanov, the world is an economy; in work, it is a bridge between me and not-me. The basis is the law of conservation of energy, not the communion of the world's flesh, but the movement of elements. What's the matter? In the epistemological outcome of S. N. Bulgakov. For Bulgakov, the main question is: what is knowledge? The secret decision is made by metaphysics. It's hidden. Hence the confusion. For Bulgakov, focusing on the fact of science is a terrible delusion. Salvation is seen in the orientation of epistemology on the fact of economy. In both cases there is a clear belief in pure givenness, in the pure “what” of knowledge. You just need to choose this “what”. Personal freedom means freedom of choice, although all the same, all roads go to Rome.
There is undoubtedly the dominance of the object, of nature. And this is a destructive understatement. If everything is in everything, then why stigmatize scientific knowledge, scientific philosophy? Where does relativism, which crushes knowledge, come from alongside Truth? Forgetting the idea of dogma and antinomies is the cause of obvious contradictions. After all, absolutely any philosophy of old, whether it be experience, thought, economics, science, excludes freedom, the personal. For Bulgakov, freedom is almost freedom of choice. Meanwhile, in this freedom the grain of the true formulation of the epistemological problem is hidden. The outcome is in a living person. And the first question is: what should knowledge be? An inevitable antinomy lives within him: a person or a thing? Only here is freedom of creativity and freedom of acceptance affirmed. Only in the idea of dogma, when realized, do Cohen’s idea-method and Rickert’s transcendental obligation receive correct illumination.
For Bulgakov, science is still sophistic. She is sophia only because she is justified by what must be. Why not treat the household the same way? It is, as a given, ambiguous. Economy based on identity, the sophistic nature of economics, are acceptable, but the same as the sophistic nature of science: if a commandment is given, farming must be a resurrection.
Faith in an object, expressed in an epistemological outcome, reveals the logical structure of knowledge. True and false knowledge differ in points of view, not in objects. These are just incorrectly superimposed, essentially identical forms, because all roads lead to Rome. One forgets that life has seeds, that each seed has its own flower, its own shape. The forms are the same if the world is the world of things, if logic is inorganic logic. But Bulgakov sharply separates Logos from scientific reason. This separation, given the presence of their merging in metaphysical nebulae, again only deepens and does not resolve the second perplexing question of Fedorov’s philosophy.
However, all the perplexities secretly relate more to the axiology and eschatology of economics: perhaps the second part of “Philosophy of Economics” will clarify the first. In the first part there is still something internally oscillating, some kind of struggle. And at the same time, there is no logically proper recognition of the antinomy of life and knowledge; but only hints. In these hints there is an insight of truth. They may not be noticed, and then “Philosophy of Economics” will become chaos, then S.N. Bulgakov can in vain be accused of all the sins of relativism and pragmatism. Alekseev did this in his critical article (Askoldov 1097). He did not catch the soul of the “Philosophy of Economics”, and its body fell apart.
We considered the “Philosophy of Economics” as a philosophy of the transcendental and highlighted the moment of mixing the transcendental and the immanent. As a form of immanent philosophy, it oozes life; it is the philosophy of the living, not in name or appearance. It contains the voice of life, it contains bundles of the most pressing problems. In addition to its depth and youthful pathos, “Philosophy of Economics” differs from any philosophy of life - in its economic tone and interpretation of issues from a sociological point of view. This is not an angular and directly crude economic materialism and not a soft, ennobled mood about the kinship of everything. In “Philosophy of Economics” - the implementation of the abstract principle as an element in the metaphysical whole, in the world body: economic materialism is overcome, spiritualized in religious materialism.
Religious understanding of life is not discharged in the quiet sparkles of the mood of a lonely person. It does not break against dead nature. Personality is not the same. Nature is a living friend. Life is not a shadow of thought, but a global community, a peaceful economy.
And having experienced this kinship, having felt this world caress, you will recoil from the “transcendental-logical entanglements” as deadening, from the lonely epistemological subject as an eternal dead man.
Such an invigorating mood is awakened by many pages of “Philosophy of Economics”, as a uniquely deep thought about the world and man.
A.K. Zakrzhevsky. Religion. Psychological parallels 1098
In 1905, in place of the discontinued “New Way”, “Questions of Life” arose... In place of the individualistic mysticism of Merezhkovsky, Rozanov, Gippius, Minsky, a new trend in religious and philosophical quests came, moving, as it were, towards the new demands of life, towards the reviving public... Having retained the individualistic principle of the “New Way”, the new magazine, however, found it necessary - expand the scope of its program, including political and economic elements, trying to connect and reconcile the new religious consciousness with the public. Although this resulted in some kind of very chaotic conglomerate, although this desired connection was not achieved, “Questions of Life” was truly a living response to modernity and differed from the previous magazine in that they sought to give practical meaning to philosophical thought...
Without going into a detailed consideration of the unsuccessful attempt to connect Christianity with the public in this magazine, that is, to reconcile two elements alien to each other, one cannot help but admit that, to our shame, we still do not have such a free organ in the true sense of the word as the magazine “Problems of Life” was... but they have all become dead within the framework of their programs, there is no creativity in them, no living life, no space and access to everything that is outside the programs and outside the dogma that original, which is why interest in magazines is falling and their place is gradually being taken by almanacs and collections.
“Questions of Life” was the last center of free creativity in Russia, extreme opposites came together here, people completely alien to each other united in the name of freedom of conscience and creativity, worldviews that were polar opposite to each other met on the same path: next to the dry and dogmatic Volzhsky - the anarchist and decadent Chulkov, along with the stories of Sergeev-Tsensky 1099 - “The Little Demon” by Sologub; articles by V. Ern, full of well-intentioned Christian humility, along with the pessimistic adogmatism of L. Shestov, the refined transparency of the Hellenic sentiments of Vyach.
Ivanov and next to him - the stormy “Pond”, overflowing the banks of all traditions - Alexei Remizov - a bloody fire of liturgical suffering, a torn heart trembling in fiery words, an insane challenge to life, a thoughtless, wild cry (it is remarkable that then no one could read to the end of the "Pond" and Remizov was called mediocrity, - now that he has achieved fame at the heavy price of his suffering creativity - genuine mediocrities, from the very same ones who previously did not recognize him, dedicate separate articles to him and shout: “A real writer”!)...
One of the editors of the magazine, S. N. Bulgakov, was a typical and most interesting representative of the so-called “Christian community.” A former Marxist, public figure, professor of political economy, author of significant works (“Capitalism and Agriculture”, etc.) - suddenly, as a result of an internal revolution in his worldview, he comes to idealism (see his book “From Marxism to Idealism”), and then to a genuine Christian worldview... But, like every Marxist, despite his changed physiognomy, he remains faithful to the precepts of his teacher, combining the premises of socialism with the commandments Christ, social aspirations with the philosophy of Vl. Solovyov, whom he also recognizes as his teacher... Apparently, in his worldview, Bulgakov resembled Western Christian socialists, but in fact, socialism was completely alien to him, being only a means and not a goal, while his Christianity itself was and is in essence, despite the aspirations for practicality, a purely philosophical character.
The whole complexity of the task that Bulgakov took upon himself in the public department of “Questions of Life” immediately catches the eye: to connect the evangelical teaching, childish, helpless before the world, insanely wise, holy fool - with the interests of the Russian public, with politics, with the program, to connect the provisions of Solovyov’s philosophical system with practical activity, to connect the heavenly with the earthly, the eternal with the transitory - doesn’t this seem not only impossible, but also even unacceptable as an assumption?.. And yet, for Bulgakov, this was the whole purpose of his aspirations, in this he saw the outcome for his renewed and transformed religious worldview...
And first in “Questions of Life”, then in the Kiev newspaper “People”, he adheres to this direction, pursues this task, strives to introduce Christian ideals into politics, into the public - a Christian spirit, into the liberation movement - religious inspiration, Christian ethics, solidarity, true culture... He often preaches the same thing from the pulpit, and also strives to create a society that would apply his program to life ("Union of Christian Politics")...
When you listen carefully to his speeches, the impression you get is rather vague and indefinite: on the one hand, it seems as if he is speaking from an honest Marxist, a true and noble “comrade”, who doubts nothing, for whom there is only one law: “You shall have no gods except Marx,” on the other hand, you are struck by the admixture of Christian commandments, which are just as out of harmony with this, just as Christ is out of harmony with Marx, but one destroys the other, and you don’t know, who to believe - Bulgakov the Marxist, or Bulgakov the Christian?..
For Bulgakov, the first Christians are almost socialists, for him Christianity outside the public is dead, for him political economy is intertwined with the Gospel and Marx for him is a religious type... It is obvious that all these opinions are just a touch (and only a disturbing and unpleasant touch) of this Marxism, from which Bulgakov even then could not completely get rid of, it is obvious that the previous worldview, which he could not overcome, burst into his soul, interfered to completely surrender to other worlds, created a chain of obstacles, disturbed peace, poisoned consciousness... For it is clear that Christianity and society are two polarities, one mutually destroying the other, that Christianity does not accept the world and sanctifies the world with the aspirations of the world to come, while socialism does not sanctify, but greedily devours the world, and sets satiety with the world as the highest goal; for it is clear that the first Christians did not strive for social work, not for the fight against statehood, not in the name of earthly blessings and freedoms and privileges, but for the catacombs, on the other side of the world, for the desired meeting with Christ!
They gladly accepted torment, went to the stake and the gallows, not because they wanted to buy this or that freedom for humanity, achieve certain rights, enforce the law or achieve an increase in wages for work, but only because Christ was still so close, His painful death, His long-suffering life was close, only because this closeness intoxicated the soul with some kind of painful ecstasy, because they believed, just as we believe in the rules of arithmetic, that Christ resurrected, that Christ is alive - and they themselves wanted to unite with Christ in the name of the future life, and not the present, in the name of the kingdom of heaven, and not the earthly one.
Socialism is the attachment of man to the land, the desire to take possession of the land, all its riches, treasures and privileges in the name of satiety, in the name of well-being and bestial complacency. Christianity is the path through the earthly to heaven, contempt for the earth in the name of heaven, Christianity is the ascension of the spirit, socialism is the fall and destruction of it... Christ did not make a single hint of earthly prosperity, on the contrary, he advised not to worry about what to eat and what to wear, to be like the lilies of the field... People who, like the socialists, wanted the continuation of a well-fed human life beyond the grave and understood immortality as a continuation of earthly life - Christ said that they would not live like people live here on earth, but would live like angels in heaven...
And although He strove for love and justice on earth, in the desert He indignantly rejected the temptations of the Devil for the kingdom of the earth; he saw the ultimate goal not in the acceptance and improvement of the world, but in suffering and martyrdom as a guarantee of the kingdom of heaven, in non-acceptance of the world, in the destruction of the world in the name of unearthly, spiritual and eternal life...
For socialism, all people are equal, its ideal is depersonalization, for socialism all people are equally colorless, equally simple units in the anthill of collectivism, and Christianity is, first of all, a religion of absolute freedom, absolute liberation, and Christians are the enemies of the world, the enemies of its state, its earthly concerns, its passions, its programs and parties, and they hate the world, just as the world hates them...
Socialism is the cult of the earth, Christianity is the cult of eternity. Socialism has the earth as its ultimate goal, Christianity sets out from the earth through destruction and rejection of it - to take possession of heaven...
These differences, clear to everyone, clearly confirm that it is insane and impossible to combine Christianity with the public, and even more so with any kind of politics!.. The union of Christianity with state power marked the beginning not of its progress, but of regression, this connection was the first shameful step of historical Christianity - if Christ had come now, His struggle would have been directed precisely against what is now called Christianity...
To introduce religion into politics means to destroy the very possibility of politics, for politics depends entirely on the sobriety of reason, on devotion to the earthly and only the earthly, while Christianity is all built on madness, and madness and politics are in any case incompatible things...
To justify the actions of socialism in the name of Christ means to slander Christ, it means to disgrace Christ, for Christ was not only a sufferer for people, but also the greatest individualist.
No matter how they prove that Christ came to establish peace and satisfy people and give them “political freedom”, this will always be false and always not smart. Christ is not only the rejection of the world, but also the destruction of all its laws and foundations, and He did not bring peace to earth, but a sword and division, and He did not come to attach man to the earth, but to tear him away and lift him up from the earth: “He said to me: you are from below, I am from above, you are from this world, I am not from this world” (John 8:23).
Bulgakov and “Questions of Life” exposed the Christian public to their mottos, but I think, not out of inner conviction, but as a result of the desire to pay a certain tribute to the social movement that swept all of Russia... It was impossible without stretches, without compromises, without a certain risk to reconcile Christianity with revolution and socialism, which is why what happened as a consequence of this was something very unconvincing, unnecessary and shaky... Chulkov wrote stories with “direction”, with programs and revolutionary songs a la 1100 Tan or the Wanderer 1101, Andrei Bely sang of the procession with flags, Bulgakov mixed Christian words with the purely socialist tendencies of his articles, because such was the fashion and it was impossible to do otherwise...
But there was no feeling of sincerity in all this, for if there had been any, if there had been real passion in all this, then this “Christian politics” would have entered into life and would have done its job, but the magazine stopped after lasting a year, the project of the “Union of Christian Politics” seems to have remained a project, and all kinds of “Social Democrats” and “Socialist Revolutionaries” had no need for Christian politics, like a cart’s fifth wheel: life took its toll...
To reconcile the socialist program with Christian ideals means destroying all socialism, because, as we have already said, Christianity cannot attach a person to the earth, it leads him into a future life, and the present life can be anything - republican, or monarchical, that is not the point, but in the torment for Christ, in the suffering of life, which must be accepted in the name of salvation, in contempt for any power, be it the most perfect, for life and its forms are only appearance, only chains, only dust and vanity, but the goal is liberation from them!..
For Bulgakov, Christianity appears in a different light, he understands it as a means for implementing socialist ideals, he values in it only that which justifies life, that serves to strengthen and establish it, that is, he shares the view of other “comrades” on Christianity, who see in Christ a “comrade” just like them, and in the Gospel - the preaching of communism, cooperation, surplus value and the eight-hour day!... And, although all this is very far away! from reality, Bulgakov directly and categorically declares that “Christianity is a religion of love, that is (?) of the public,” and that therefore “the religious-philosophical movement must be thoroughly imbued with the public, be organically connected with the socio-historical tasks of the time, this is the guarantee of its vitality”... 1102
Bulgakov used quite a bit of evidence for this connection of religion with the public, but they all crumble to dust before the unshakable truth of the Gospel... Bulgakov proves that the goal of the Christian public should be the establishment of a free earthly kingdom, that the goal of this public should be “political emancipation, economic revival, cultural renaissance and religious reformation”... 1103 But such a false interpretation of the tasks of Christianity can be objected to with the words of Christ himself, confirming that fundamental truth of Christianity, which smashes into dust all concerns about earthly prosperity: “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 19:36). He said the same thing about his disciples: “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world” (John 17:16)... Against satiety, against the main law of socialism, according to which paradise is that everyone without exception should be fed, He also said quite definitely: “Seek not the food that perishes, but the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you; for the Father God has set His seal on Him” (John 6:27).
By designing a “union of Christian politics,” Bulgakov thereby renounced Christianity, its mystical essence, for which the earthly, visible, political world does not exist and cannot exist, which is entirely contained in mystery - and the mystery - in torment, salvation and liberation...
Christianity came to the world to save it from the flesh and from all politics, in order to destroy all power and all worries about earthly things, in order to transform flesh into spirit and transform earth into heaven, - Bulgakov replaces all this with the spirit of political economy and socialism, which he cannot get rid of, with which he is saturated, but the Christian spirit, the spirit of love and suffering forgiveness is not felt in him, but on the contrary - some kind of self-satisfied satiety.
For him, Christianity is only arithmetic, he cannot delve into the secrets of Christianity, he skims on the surface of them, he is content with the appearance of Christianity, which captivates its kindred Marxists...
Faced with Christianity, he immediately accepted its dogmas, as habitually and as superficially as he had previously accepted the tenets of Marxism, he was not sick of Christianity, he was not tormented by his crisis, and there is not in him that joyful light, that hosanna that passes through the crucible of doubts and torments, and his faith is not a creative, constructive, luminous faith, but the calm armchair faith of a professor of political economy who is in Christianity, into this childish faith, crazy, inexpressible, he immediately introduces the dead scholasticism of his science and strives to explain everything not through feeling and intuition, but through his boring and dead scientificism...
But this was the strength of the first Christians (and the first Christians are true Christianity), that they were completely alien to science, they were simple and unlearned people, they were children for whom a miracle was a reality, and not a thought experiment, and they - these simple fishermen, simple carpenters, holy fools, unwise and rejecting wisdom - defeated the science, philosophy and wisdom of their time, motivated the earthly and human with the strength and strength of their childhood!..
Bulgakov, guided by the precepts of Vl. Solovyov - strives to combine science with religion, the mystery of Christianity, a mystery incomprehensible to the mind - to explain with the help of philosophy and in place of a miracle to put the boring vulgarity of arithmetic... But neither Vl. Solovyov and Bulgakov cannot be called believers, because through their philosophizing they achieved results completely different from any faith; where logic and philosophy operate instead of crucifixion and torment, there is no place for faith and no place for Christ... Christ is great because His mystery destroys reason, and whoever, having encountered Christ, is still guided in his thinking by the law of reason, thereby proves that he does not believe... And is any kind of thinking possible in faith? Where faith begins - thinking, logic, science, philosophy are pushed aside, fade into the background and become unnecessary and pitiful, this is the truth... Vl.
Solovyov wrote many books that are amazing in their structure and mathematical proof, Bulgakov wrote “The Philosophy of Economics,” but both Solovyov’s books and the works of his students are also far from the true faith, for they emanate the gray boredom of scholarship and rhetoric, and faith is not with them and miracles are not with them, faith with simple fishermen, with the humiliated, with people who have lost all the treasures of the world for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, faith - among schismatics and sectarians, faith is among the people!..
Dostoevsky's influence on Bulgakov is undeniable; many of its pages are entirely imbued with Dostoevsky, and his crisis arose not only under the influence of Solovyov, but also of Dostoevsky. Dostoevsky opened the path to Christ for Bulgakov, just as he opened and opens to everyone who cannot pass by him, the shadow of Dostoevsky fell on his entire worldview, and he often refers in his evidence and speeches to the words of Dostoevsky, as if recognizing him as his authority. Bulgakov owns one of the best articles about the tragedy of Ivan Karamazov (“Iv. Karamazov as a philosophical type”), since this tragedy is as close and understandable to him as to all representatives of the “new religious consciousness.”
But what a difference immediately catches the eye between the faith of Dostoevsky and the faith of Bulgakov: Dostoevsky walked this path through the power of torment and doubt, Dostoevsky lost in this muddy not only hope for reason, but in general hope for man, Dostoevsky, in his gut, with his suffering, sick heart, felt the mystical miracle of the Church and the great role of the people in the cause of the religious revival of Russia, and Bulgakov could not renounce his scientific nature, he presented to the people not the truth of Christ, not the truth of the Church, but a thick volume of political economy in a Christian binding.
Bulgakov is unable to accept the insane belief in the possibility of miracles that is still preserved among the people, Bulgakov cannot burn at the stake, as schismatics burn and through the crucifixion of the soul, in great pain, in a hysterical cry, feel Christ, he cannot understand that where Christ is, all book wisdom, all professorial eloquence, all the laws of logic are unnecessary and ridiculous, Bulgakov is difficult and impossible to recognize the truth that through human madness must be overcome in order to find access to a genuine encounter with Christ...
Gogol saw the shadow of Christ on his books, and they became unbearable to him, and he burned them, burned all the wisdom of this world, suffocated in his madness, and burned his flesh in the bloody fire of madness. Nietzsche fought with Christ, but, realizing what he was doing, he also became mad and could not stand it, and submitted to his madness... Alexander Dobrolyubov, feeling that Christ existed, went to look for Him in the desert, became a holy fool, became silent, drowned out the secret knowledge in himself, fell to the ground, felt how the earth was choking, how the grass was growing, how the Spirit was flowing in silence - he was silent and prayed... M. Pantyukhov found his Christ in a madhouse, and also fell silent, and also faded away for the world, and the world faded away in his heart, became unnecessary... And these were truly religious people, they recognized every appearance and every letter as powerless, they burned themselves, mutilated, crucified - and by this they found God, by this they ascended...
Bulgakov’s faith is not faith, but only bookish wisdom and philosophy, but it is not the scribes and rhetoricians who will find Christ, but those who have renounced all wisdom forever...
However, Bulgakov is well aware that if a spark of wonderful faith is preserved in humanity, then it smolders not in the lost intelligentsia, poisoned by reason, but in the people... And like Dostoevsky, like Bishop Mikhail - this typical monk who became a people's socialist for the triumph of Christian truth - Bulgakov hopes for the people, as the last stronghold of Christianity, as the last hope...
“The people’s soul is sick,” he says. “The very heart of the people was struck - their religious life, which they criminally wanted to use for political, or more precisely, police purposes. The entire spiritual perspective has been distorted, and the result has been that darkening of spiritual consciousness, thanks to which our generous and idealistic intelligentsia to the last little finger, not recognizing itself, considers it necessary to adhere to various shades of materialism, while the people are in a state of helplessness and confusion, not knowing whom to listen to and to whom to surrender...” 1104 This intelligentsia, who does not believe in anything, rotten, well-fed and satisfied with its satiety, is approaching to the untouched soul of the people, in order to convey to her the poison of his unbelief and his dead bookish boredom, in order to convey to her his insane burden of an aimless, bourgeois, meaningless life and push her on the same path to the coming Ham 1105 and the dominance of impersonality, which she herself accepts...
The danger of this poisoning of the people's soul with the destructive poison of positivism and boorish satiety was well understood by Dostoevsky, he was sick at the thought of this, shuddered at the assumption that the virgin, mysterious untouchedness of the Russian people's soul could be polluted and vulgarized by the demonic power of sobriety, impersonality and servility, coming from socialism through the proletariat to the people, he, through the mouth of Elder Zosima, called for the preservation of this the stronghold of Russia from damage, saying: “The Lord will save Russia, as He has saved many times already. Salvation will come from the people, from their faith and salvation... The people will meet the atheist and overcome him, and there will be a united Orthodox Rus'. Take care of the people and protect their hearts. Raise him in silence, this is your monastic feat, for this people is a God-bearer” (“The Brothers Karamazov”)... 1106
Bulgakov is also aware of the danger of infecting the people, which is why he strived so hard to ensure that “a covenant was clearly and clearly inscribed on the banner of the Russian liberation movement: with the people, through the people and for the people 1107. But the whole point is that the “liberation movement” precisely sought to first of all destroy “religious prejudices” among the masses, and Bulgakov’s voice remained a voice crying in the wilderness... This “movement” sought to corrupt the people’s spirit and kill in it what its main charm was - the remnant of his faith, his wordless fervent prayer, his devotion to the miracle and mysteries of the Church... The Church itself was unable to to save the people's soul, for the spirit of Christ and the true strength of the spirit were absent in it, for the Church was only a state institution, and not the abode of Christ, for our clergy is enslaved by the state, and there are almost no true servants of Christ in it, and if there are, then state guardianship tries to throw them out of the church fence in time...
The fusion of the Church with the state is the cause of death not only of the people's soul, but also of the Russian intelligentsia; as a result of this reason, the intelligentsia remains alien and unnecessary to the Church, and even disgusted by some, for this reason, a great many young souls perish in the midst of life, unable to withstand the temptations and suffering of their loneliness and their melancholy, for this reason, countless suicides are committed, disappointment with life and flight from it occurs, for there is no Church in the midst of life, for the Church is sealed with the state seal and closed forever, and yet what a great work this Church could do for the salvation of souls! She could stand here as a welcome haven for everyone, as a saving ship in the midst of the ocean of life, as an ever-living mystery in which the resurrection of every lonely and suffering soul would take place!..
She could sanctify life and show all those who seek the door of a miracle, she could gather under her wings all the toiling, burdened, all those who have lost their ground, all the despairing and distraught people in torment and kindle in their souls the eternal, unquenchable flame of true and life-giving faith!
Even Vl. Solovyov, this apologist for the state Church and defender of theocracy, himself was aware of this great tragedy of the enslavement of the Church to the state, and even in his response to Rachinsky’s article (“How to Awaken Our Church Strengths”), words escaped that indicate that Solovyov understood this tragedy, just like Bulgakov and all people thirsting for salvation from the Church: “Religious and church truth is on kept in a strong government chest behind government seals and under the guard of reliable sentries. There is complete security, but no real interest. Somewhere far away there is a religious struggle, but this does not concern us... Doctors of Orthodoxy are outside the sphere of our action, and if they fall into it, then only with their hands tied and their mouths gagged. It is not the inner need of the religious mind, not a living spiritually practical interest, but only established custom and decency that force our churchmen from time to time to take up arms in defense of Orthodoxy... We have been spared from the real serious struggle for Orthodoxy by state tutelage.
But on the other hand, Orthodoxy itself, instead of a comprehensive universal banner, becomes with us a simple attribute or appendage of Russian statehood.”... 1108
Moreover, the clergy themselves are aware of this tragedy, and for their truly believing representatives this serves as a heart wound, and the Church itself is a stuffy prison in which their entire spirit and all their thirst to be true shepherds of the flock of Christ are imprisoned... One of the most living and truly religious representatives of our clergy, Archimandrite Serapion Mashkin, an ascetic and ascetic, an amazing phenomenon in our monasticism - in one private letter, published later - openly exposed this ever-opening wound of the entire Russian clergy: “No, I do not agree to be a bishop, and if they were offered, I would refuse: my conscience forbids me to be a policeman in the place of the shepherd of Christ’s sheep. I don’t even serve, I commune, but I don’t serve, because I don’t consider our Church to be true... I don’t even take part in church ceremonies, since we have a police officer everywhere with them - this representative of the arrogant authorities who have trampled on the law... A fresh, active and honest person will suffocate in monasticism. The only thing that saved me was that I am a philosopher, I have purely armchair interests...
Our “clergy, if I may say so,” are now singing in all churches “God is with us,” but God is not with us and will not be until we correct our affairs...” 1109
Another Old Believer representative of the clergy - the current Old Believer Bishop Mikhail, also through a collision with life itself, came to the conviction that the state Church cannot say anything to the people, because it is shackled... Having been invited to the St. Petersburg religious and philosophical meetings to defend the state Church from the “heresy” of Merezhkovsky and Rozanov, Bishop. Mikhail himself felt, even when his opponents were silent, that the truth was not with him, but with them... Then, through long doubts and torment, he had to abandon that official dogmatism, of which he himself was both a representative and a defender... He had to admit all the bitter truth that was hidden in the letters he received from all over Russia, in letters in which simple semi-literate people threw the truth in his face, saying: “You are lying. You are not defending Christ, but order. You cannot live in your Church with your Christianity. How many slavish lies: the persecution of sectarians and freedom of faith in general by the Church, the Church’s approval of war, and moreover, executions, is a fact.
We see that the Church is an instrument in the service of the “present,” while her job is to judge from the heights of eternity, from the heights of the Gospel. And we cannot accept her, you and your Christ!” 1110
Ep. Mikhail went to the other extreme, he essentially remained faithful not to Christ, but to the party of people's socialists, and he cannot be called a true believer, because for him the social situation of the masses became the goal of activity, and not the Church and its fate, he entered, dissolved in the masses in the name of heaven on earth, and not in the name of the kingdom of heaven, in the name of the happiness of all, and not in the name of personal salvation - and this is his merit, but at the same time the main mistake: for not with party work the fullness of faith is achieved and not in newspaper feuilletons the goal of the shepherd of the Church, but in devotion to Christ and the raising of human souls from earthly to heavenly, from earthly slavery to absolute freedom, from socialist collectivism to Christian individualism... Currently, Bishop. Michael is not in the Church, but in the vain interests of the human, too human, but is this the path for a true Christian, is this salvation, is this freedom?..
Christianity is not the arrangement of life’s comforts, just as it is not a theory of feeding the hungry and liberating the external; Christianity, first of all, is a mystical path, it is a sacrament in God, in which all this life is invisibly destroyed.
For Bulgakov, the separation of the Church from the state was a real need; he constantly developed this issue in his articles, but in his opinion, the separation of the Church should take place not in the name of its mystical triumph, but in the name of political brotherhood with a specific program and specific activities. In his opinion, “with this deed of truth, the Church will not only render God to God and stop betraying Christ to Caesar, but will also provide the greatest historical service to the Russian people, for it will remove all religious ground from under the feet of evil and dark reaction and thereby create the possibility of internal pacification of the country on the basis of a free state system and the true benefits of the liberation movement, which it is a sin for a Christian not to appreciate 1111.
Undoubtedly, the great merit of Bulgakov’s activity lies precisely in the fact that this separation of Church and state served as the theme for his numerous articles, written passionately and convincingly and with knowledge of the matter... For a long time he tried to use all his strength to emphasize this shameful fact of Russian life, which is undoubtedly the reason for the impoverishment and deadening of our spiritual life...
It is clear that the renewal of her entire organism, the awakening of her creative powers, the attraction to her of true and deeply believing members, who at the present time, although they strive for it, are forced to wander around and perish in unnecessary and alien affairs depends on the liberation of the Church from its serfdom! in chains and captivity of the autocracy, turned into its organ and attribute - and what is most regrettable is that its representatives themselves were imbued with the pernicious spirit of this enslavement and they, recognizing autocracy as an exclusively Christian, church form of government, developed the false idea of an “Orthodox tsar” as a theocratic body, but this idea - oh woe! - began to be propagated in worship, even over the Holy Chalice” 1112.
I don’t know whether Bulgakov’s deepening into the idea of Christian socialism, or the living and bitter reality itself led him to other conclusions in the collection “Vekhi”, directly opposite to those noted in his articles earlier, but it is clear that at present Bulgakov’s path has changed somewhat. In 1905, Bulgakov in “Questions of Life,” proving that Christianity is a religion of the public, said: “The great liberation movement in its ultimate aspirations corresponds to the requirements of Christian politics” (Questions of Life. 3) and in general attached dominant importance to politics and the public in Christianity... In the collection “Vekhi” in 1909, in the article “Heroism and Asceticism,” he seems to take back his previous words and declares that “the liberation movement did not lead to the results that it should have and, it seemed, could lead to, it did not bring about reconciliation or renewal, it was not up to its task...”
The future will show what other unexpected conclusions Bulgakov will come to. But now it is clear that there is very little Christian spirit in him. If there was something of Christianity in him, then this too was muffled by his Marxist nature and his desire for science, as a result of which Bulgakov did not turn out to be either a real Marxist or a true Christian believer... His faith is primarily the faith of a philosophizing scientist, but everything living, everything real, everything active in him is killed by the unbearable weight of dead and clever words... It cannot be said that his philosophy was insincere, but like any philosophy, it goes against Christ, it kills every ecstasy, every possibility of a miracle, every higher mystical knowledge, for professorial armchair religiosity is capable of tormenting and drying up even such a living and immediate feeling as the Christian spirit... Bulgakov’s writings emanate a corruptive spirit, and his philosophy is not the work of Christ, but true carrion...
And he himself is satisfied that he is dead, and he has his own dogmas, and although he assures that for him dogma is a religious experience, this is not felt; For Bulgakov, dogma is something familiar, calm and comfortable, for him dogma is an axiom that does not require proof, and not once did he understand that even an axiom can inspire doubt, and not once was he crucified in his torment, and in this torment a creative and hysterical “hosanna” was not revealed to him...
Let Bulgakov try to prove in his writings that he believes... It’s not a matter of evidence or assurances, it’s a matter of spirit, and the spirit is felt even where there are no words... For me it is clear that if there were seeds of faith in Bulgakov’s work, they were drowned out by his science and his philosophizing, for faith cannot be combined with science, and where there is faith, science turns out to be superfluous, for Christianity is not the secret of wisdom, and the secret of madness.
“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved the power of God... For the foolish things of God are mightier than men...” Because “God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the things that are strong; God chose the base things of the world and the things that are despised, and the things that are not, to bring to nothing the things that are...” (1 Cor. 1:18-28).
V.A. Bazarov. About the modern ideological crisis 1113
Article 2. Byzantineism versus “New European” culture
In the last article 1114 I tried to show that in the fight against the spiritual “dominance” of Germanism, only the Slavophil current of our social thought feels solid ground under its feet. Westerners find themselves in a very difficult situation in this case. They have to, firstly, prove that the Germans have illegally enjoyed until now the reputation of the most consistent, energetic and skillful representatives of modern European civilization - and they are not able to prove this. They have, secondly, to justify our own imperialist claims with the interests of the same Western European civilization - which is even more difficult. It is not surprising that the patriotic argumentation of Westerners is usually very meager, fragmentary in nature, carefully avoiding broad philosophical generalizations, trying to pass off their involuntary ideological poverty as deliberate sobriety and efficiency.
A few quotes that set everyone’s teeth on edge from the theorists of German imperialism - Treitschke or Bernhardi 1115 - and an indication of the atrocities of the German armies - that’s the entire arsenal of our liberals in the fight against the cultural prestige of Germany.
There is, of course, not the slightest doubt that the cruelties of the Prussian soldiers deserve every possible condemnation, and the ideas of the Prussian patriots do not contain anything captivating, at least for a person who does not belong to the German fatherland. But that’s not the point at all. Do these ideas and these facts represent something specifically German, alien to all other peoples of the cultured West, or do we have here only the most consistent, vivid and frank expression of that militaristic and imperialist spirit that in recent decades has conquered all cultural nations? That's the question.
For obvious reasons, this issue cannot currently be investigated with the thoroughness it deserves: the time has not yet come for a calm and impartial analysis of the data that would make it possible to make an informed decision in one direction or another. But all the more valuable for us is the fact that our Slavophiles - people who, less than anyone else, can be suspected of a lack of love for their homeland or a hidden passion for Germany - are not at all inclined to consider the Germans as some kind of renegades of Europe, but, on the contrary, continue to consider them as the most genuine, decisive and straightforward representatives of the “new European” culture. And, in my opinion, in this respect the Slavophiles are much closer to the truth than the liberals. Undoubtedly, many of Treitschke's statements cause sincere indignation and indignation among the imperialists of all non-German countries.
It is no less indisputable, however, that the same words that, in the mouth of a German writer and when applied to the historical mission of the German people, seem to an Englishman to be outrageous cynicism, would have made a completely different impression on him if they had been spoken by an English writer when applied to the mission of the British people. However, this is also to say: an English writer would prefer to put the same word, or say it differently, the same thought into a form that is much more decent and moral, and does not at all hit the nose with the external cynicism of expression. The Germans, in general, are bad diplomats: offen und ehrlich “aussprechen, was ist” 1116 was not only Lassalle’s motto, it is, to a certain extent, the rule of every energetic German figure, and since this figure is a nationalist and an imperialist, his “open and honest” confession of his convictions naturally turns out to be “cynicism.”
But let’s leave aside the sensitive topic of the cynicism of the Germans and the nobility of other nations. Slavophil criticism of new European culture directs its edge not against modern European imperialism as such, but against the very foundations of European civilization, as it emerged after the collapse of the medieval way of life and thought.
By “New Europe” here we mean what we would rather call “old” Europe; The “new European” spirit, hated by the Slavophiles, reached its highest manifestation in the era when the focus of attention of Western humanity was not the problem of state power, but the rights of man and citizen, in the era of the French Enlightenment and classical German philosophy.
The most prominent theorist of modern Byzantium, S.N. Bulgakov, sees the original sin of the West in its “philistinism”: a person of Western culture “feels like a kind of Prometheus of the philistinism, a skillful forger of his destiny, a wise master who knows how to use his place on earth and knows its value... Not only an immediate love for a place, amor loci, develops, but also a special philosophy of place and a religion of place... There is no God in heaven who would interfere in earthly affairs, and no chaotic elements that would threaten them from the abyss: man remains alone on earth, he is the only master of the world, this place of his, and can freely and unlimitedly create his evolutionary progress on it... The most influential philosophical movements serve the dominant worldview.
Man, according to Kant’s teaching, only has access to the knowledge of phenomena or appearances; the area of this phenomenal world, so to speak, its vital place, is determined by our own cognitive forms and is strictly closed by them; “outside this world of phenomena, nothing accessible and tangible can arise for us, and this practically means that nothing exists at all except this place, which we vitally affirm as an arena for human will.”
There is nothing essentially new in this argumentation, developed by S. N. Bulgakov in his lecture “War and Russian Self-Consciousness” 1117 (pp. 9, 12 and 13). The meaninglessness of progress without faith in the supernatural transformation of the world, as the completion of human and cosmic history; phenomenalism of classical German philosophy, as a result of the deification of man and the human mind; the bourgeois religion of comfort, as a result of the phenomenolistic worldview - these are the motives of the prophetic songs of Byzantium - motives with which we became thoroughly acquainted in “Problems of Idealism”, which we listened to our heart's content in the tedious days of the Vekhovshchina. But if these are old honks, then they are still in a new way. In “Problems of Idealism,” the Byzantine spirit tried to put on the flesh of German idealist philosophy in order to use its power in the fight against the Russian radical intelligentsia, which seemed to him then the main enemy. This same unnatural union was supported to a certain extent in Vekhi.
Many of the participants in this collection (Struve, Frank, Izgoev 1118) acted as certain Westerners; and the Slavophil phalanx of “Vekhi” fought not so much against the spirit of the “new European” culture itself, but rather against the imperfect, in its opinion, assimilation of this spirit that distinguishes Russian radicals. Currently, all these qui pro quos 1119 have been eliminated. Byzantium completed the process of self-knowledge, established itself in a position that truly belonged to it, and this immediately created the correct perspective in which only its characteristic features can be outlined with sufficient relief.
In order to approach these latter, we will have to start from the same stove from which the Byzantines themselves dance, that is, from the long-suffering philosophy of Kant. If it is true that the European religion of progress, the belief in the limitlessness of the powers of our mind and, in general, the human spirit, is the source of all philistinism, cultural coarsening and vulgarization, then the Slavophiles are absolutely right in looking for the root of evil in Kantian philosophy. “All the qualities come from her.” Of course, it was not Kant who created the spirit of modern European civilization, but he gave this spirit the most brilliant expression, and therefore it is his concept that is the most instructive from this point of view.
In fact, neither the French rationalists, who worshiped reason as a deity, nor the English empiricists, who mercilessly destroyed super-rational dogmatics, proclaimed such an absolute, self-sufficient autonomy of reason as lies at the basis of Kant’s transcendental philosophy. Reason does not take its laws from somewhere outside, but freely prescribes them to nature - this is the formula in which Kant himself summarized his doctrine of the “a priori” nature of our cognitive forms.
“Phenomenalism” is not at all, as it seems to Mr. Bulgakov, a limitation of our knowledge or experience by some predetermined framework, but quite the opposite, a recognition of the boundlessness of the cognitive rights and scientific responsibilities of the human mind. Everything that somehow becomes “accessible or tangible” to us is subject to reason as an object of study. The active mind does not dare to rest on such lazy and pious formulas as “a super-intelligent force interfering in earthly affairs” or “an element rising from chaos”: fully armed with its a priori, autonomous methods, it does not bow its head to any difficulties, and approaches the most wonderful riddles with the firm faith that its creative energy will sooner or later be able to transform super-experimental insight into a phenomenon of experience, into a scientifically interpreted "phenomenon".
It goes without saying that such rational-cognitive activity does not exhaust the human relationship to the world. Love, aesthetic contemplation, the entire area of feelings and intuitions, from the most elementary and personal to the most complex and cosmic, are different in nature from logical thinking. But there is not a single object in this area that reason would have the right to recognize as being outside its competence.
Nothing that exists escapes the mind, but everything that exists enters into scientific constructions in a transformed form, adapted to cognitive forms. In this sense, the Kantian Cohen’s assertion that knowledge itself creates its objects is true.
And this transformation of the world for cognitive purposes is not a simple game of the mind, but genuine creativity, for its result is the growth of man’s real power over the world. Technology actually puts everything that science has mastered logically at the disposal of the human will. Thus, a theoretically correct picture of the world is at the same time a diagram of practically expedient ways of influencing the world. And since such influences are realized, every scientific acquisition actually marks an increase in comfort in human life.
The main and fatal mistake of our Byzantineism is that it takes this result of scientific creativity as a driving motive, as the force that inspires the creators of science. Meanwhile, it is quite obvious that not a single scientist worthy of this name saw the meaning of his activity in the comfortable use of its results. Only the rapture of scientific work itself, the very process of struggling with the inert matter of the world, where each victory is at the same time the growth of the human spirit, the expansion of our mental horizon - only such a self-sufficient pathos of scientific creativity can provide that irresistible energy, that gigantic effort of will that is necessary in order to complete a scientific discovery, often very far from direct use in the interests of comfort.
It was not the religion of comfort, but the religion of human creativity that determined the main aspiration of modern European culture and found its highest expression in the classical philosophy of German idealism. Anyone who is at least somewhat familiar with the Critique of Pure Reason is absolutely clear that it could in no way arise in an environment that assigned knowledge a servile role. After all, if knowledge is valued by Europe only as a means to achieve comfort, or, in general, any external goals, then where did the central idea of classical European philosophy come from: the idea of the autonomy of reason, its absolute self-sufficiency, self-worth and self-legitimacy? Meanwhile, this idea not only constitutes the essence of Kantianism, but runs like a red thread through all of later German philosophy right up to Hegel, in whose dialectics it reaches its apotheosis.
Hegelian dialectical development is precisely human development, human progress, understood as creativity and subjugating the entire universe to its power. Two significant features distinguish dialectical progress from the simple process of changing phenomena that we observe when we relate to the world not creatively, but passively and contemplatively. In the process of change, each new phase is something external in relation to the previous one, while in the dialectical development of movement it arises from within, representing the disclosure and implementation of the potential energies of the developing one, as a result of which every new stage here is at the same time the highest. Further, with the external change of phenomena, the new displaces the old, taking its place, so that no real trace remains of the past in existing existence; and since the future here is also not internally connected with the present in any way, then there is still no hint of it in what now exists.
Such a kaleidoscopic change, in which, in essence, there is no real formation at all, no genuine development in time, but only a random current moment exists, and Hegel called it imaginary or “bad infinity.” In dialectical development, a new stage arises as a reconciliation of the contradictions of the old; it does not exclude the old, but on the contrary includes it, and at the same time raises it to a higher level, transforming into elements of newly created harmony what previously gaped as an insoluble contradiction. Consequently, only in the dialectical process, where each given moment includes the entire past in a new and enriched form, and along with this the creative impulse is really directed into the future, only here does real eternity, real or “good” infinity arise for the first time. And, as we see, this eternity in no way can be given or sent down to us from the outside, in the form of some kind of motionless perfection not created by us.
The dream of such perfection, no matter how majestic and impressive symbols it may be hidden behind, is always the product of a lazy and crafty spirit, eager to find in the calm inaction of contemplation that bliss of creative ecstasy, which is inextricably linked with the very process of creativity.
Organically incapable of perceiving the religion of creative progress that nourished the new European culture in the best eras of its existence, which is still alive in the souls of the intellectual leaders of the West, our Byzantines are naturally unable to see in Europe anything other than petty-bourgeois vulgarity. Their denunciations of Western philistinism, in fact, do not in the least affect genuine Europe and relate only to the ugly imprint it left on their own souls. Therefore, while providing very little for understanding the real shortcomings of the modern West, the anti-European literature of the Slavophiles provides precious material for understanding the critics’ own psychology.
If any passion for cultural tasks only attaches us to this unworthy world of phenomena, only develops a love “for the place”, for philistinism, then, it would seem, all that remains is to shake off the dust of culture from our feet, raise our eyes to grief and, without taking anything seriously, calmly wait for the end of the world, the great transformation of the universe. And indeed, Mr. Bulgakov speaks with great warmth about that “short, but blissful” era in the history of mankind, “when this inertia of place and faith in strength seemed completely defeated - not only of this place, but of the whole world in general, for they felt, in life, and not only in thought, that the image of this century was passing away.” However, for our time he by no means recommends such a radical disregard for “place.”
He is even ready to admit the relative truth of philistinism: “Without this love (for a place), without this, I will say, natural provincialism of the soul, we would have nothing to leave on earth, nothing to be separated from, nothing to give up, nothing to free ourselves from; beyond this feeling there remains only the freedom of emptiness, which exists for a person who is not attached to anything, has no roots anywhere and professes: “ubi bene, ibi patria”” 1120. So, no matter how grandiose the idea of a heavenly fatherland is, it turns out that you cannot live with this idea alone; it is unable to fill that “freedom of emptiness” that embraces us when we truly renounce attachment to a place. And such renunciation is not patriotic: after all, for a person who has clinged with all his soul to the heavenly fatherland, there is no real strong place on earth; all earthly fatherlands seem to him equally imperfect, and from here, God forbid, it is not far from the cosmopolitan “ubi bene, ibi patria.” Where then will the patriotic mission of Byzantium go, its claim to become a national, Russian identity?
No, heavenly radicalism is almost more dangerous than earthly radicalism! “The feeling of the earth, sonship, soilness” is sanctified by the philosophy of Mr. Bulgakov; it rebels against love for place only insofar as this latter “insensitively turns into a relaxing philistinism.” Where is this insensitive transition planned? In the area of “halftones and overtones,” our thinker answers: “Here, as often in the area of feeling, the most important shades are expressed not in tones, but in halftones and overtones.”
In other words, love for the heavenly fatherland should in no way be an all-encompassing feeling; It is dangerous even to allow it to sound loudly as one of the main tones of life; let a man settle down in his place, like a true son of the earth, not disturbed in his practical activities by any heavenly calls; but in moments of festive rest it is not proper for him to have a vulgar, satisfied look; It is here, when the noise of the marketplace of life ceases, that the halftones and overtones of heavenly music should be heard in the soul of a worker of the earth and evoke on his face a noble expression of longing for the unearthly.
And if the reader, inspired by the philippics against European philistinism, is disappointed by this overtone overcoming of Western filth, and feels bitterly that the mountain of majestic denunciations has given birth to something like a mouse, then he will be deeply wrong. Mr. Bulgakov will explain to him that we, in general, do not have the right to arbitrarily speculate in the area of our life practice. Only Western vulgarities can find in the earthly structure some kind of independent and accessible meaning to man, set their own goals, be fired up with creative enthusiasm, experience grief during failures, etc. For the wise Byzantine, the meaning of the present life is hidden, but he must do his work on earth, for such is the will of the Sender. The earthly field is a “service” entrusted to us from above, which we are called to perform with all possible conscientiousness, calmly and without worry, and, most importantly, without further ado, without trying to penetrate into the intentions of the owner that are inaccessible to us.
This idea of “service,” persistently propagated by Mr. Bulgakov in recent years, is extremely characteristic of the psychology of Byzantine times. For “Western man,” the world is the same as virgin nature for a pioneer: he must defeat powerful forces that are indifferent to his existence, his entire fate depends on his resourcefulness, skill, endurance, in a word, on his creative energy. Before the Byzantine, the world unfolds like an immense multitude of offices with endless staff. Birth is entry into the service, the beginning of “service” at one of the small tables of this mind-boggling network of institutions. The purpose of the office, the ultimate goal of those papers that the young official first rewrites and then compiles, lies beyond his horizons - not to mention the fact that there are many offices, the raison d’être 1121 of which is not at all accessible to the limited mind of his subjects, not excluding the highest authorities in charge of them. Of course, there can be no talk of creative enthusiasm, of autonomy of mind in work, the meaning of which is unknown to the worker.
There is no incentive to change anything, improve anything, fight for anything, protest against anything - everything goes according to the established order from above, all that remains is to conscientiously serve the assigned hours of service. The only concern of an official of such a cosmic office is to keep his form unsullied, to peacefully and shamelessly hold out the dreary burden of earthly service until that longed-for hour when death will finally open the gates to the kingdom of peace, and length of service with the mark “nothing reprehensible” will ensure the right to receive a full pension in the afterlife.
Not all partisans of the Byzantine idea have access to this cloudless clarity, this meek balance of a cosmic-clerical worldview. Among them there are quite a few people who are restless, anxious and even suffering, but all of them are characterized by what Mr. Bulgakov calls “dual feeling” and which, as I tried to show, comes down to an organic inability to merge ideal and reality in the unity of living creativity.
And this organic vice is widespread among the Russian people much more widely than the Slavophil way of thought, it is widespread so widely that perhaps, indeed, it can be called one of our “national” characteristics.
Our Westerners, our extreme radicals, often perceive the European religion of progress in a completely Slavophile way. Modern Slavophiles borrowed their most eloquent tirades against progress from none other than Herzen 1122: “If the process is the goal,” he wrote “from the other side,” then for whom are we working? Who is this Moloch 1123, who, as the workers approach him, instead of rewarding him, retreats back and, in consolation to the exhausted and doomed crowds who shout to him: morituri te salutant 1124, only knows how to answer with a bitter smile that after their death it will be wonderful on earth. Are you really dooming modern people to the miserable fate of caryatids supporting the terrace on which someday others will dance... or to being unhappy workers who are knee-deep in mud, dragging a barge with a mysterious fleece and with the humble inscription “progress in the future” on the flag?
As we see, Herzen – “a complete Muscovite,” as Marx once called him, not without reason – is also unable to “accept” progress as continuous life creativity, endlessly elevating a person, but at the same time requiring endless suffering and sacrifices from him. And to him the struggle of modern generations seems to be only a means for future generations to achieve calm bliss; and for him, present-day people are not the creators of eternal life, but only “caryatids” supporting the platform on which, over time, descendants who do not need further struggle, who have achieved the final peace, will blithely dance.
Mr. Merezhkovsky, one of the most implacable enemies of the idea of infinite progress, quoted with great indignation some German who dared to say: “Gott ist eine Methode” 1125. He did not then meet with much sympathy from the radical audience listening to his speech. But if he had attacked not Western theologians, but Western socialists, who claim that the “ultimate goal” is only a method of transforming existing social relations, the sympathy of the vast majority of the audience would have been ensured. For a European, the identification of every ideal with a method is something self-evident: he knows that progress not only satisfies existing needs, but also continuously creates new ones; therefore, no matter what perfect system of life we invent, it will by no means be perfect in the eyes of the generation that will actually implement it; the harmony achieved for the moment will immediately decompose into new contradictions, cause a new struggle, new creativity, and there will be no end to it.
But to the Russian ear, the combination of the words “ultimate goal” and “method” really sounds blasphemous; we are inclined to suspect here malicious “opportunism”, abandonment of the final goal, “betrayal” of the ideal.
Perhaps this Slavophile psychology is revealed even more clearly in the attitude of our radical intelligentsia towards European science. “What is a hypothesis for a European scientist is an axiom for a Russian boy,” said Dostoevsky. This transformation of European “hypotheses” or what is the same, scientific methods, tools of knowledge, into Russian axioms is indeed a characteristic feature. And “Russian boys” themselves know this trait in themselves, and are often even proud of it, as proof of the special determination and intransigence of their “scientific worldview.”
In fact, it proves something completely different, and there is very little flattering in it for us. Here, undoubtedly, the same fundamental misunderstanding of the very essence of scientific thought is revealed, which leads the Slavophiles to their tragicomic attacks against modern European culture. The more universal the scientific construction, the more enormous the victories over nature that man has won, relying on it, the more fascinating it would seem to be the idea that this powerful tool is precisely the construction of the mind, its own, creative creation. But try telling a Russian materialist that the materialist hypothesis is, although a brilliant, but still a transitory method of scientific knowledge, that it is already in need of revision and replacement with a new, even broader and more powerful principle of research. He won't even listen to you. The idea of scientific creativity is as alien and antipathetic to him as it is to the Slavophile.
He seeks in science not methods, but “worldviews”, not endless movement, but a final explanation, not universal tools of knowledge, but revelations about the essence of nature. The sources of revelation are different for the Slavophile and the materialist, but the psychology of revelation is the same - the same thirst for a universal key to all the locks of the world, for absolute and final peace of satisfied thought.
There is no way to exhaust, within the framework of a small journal article, at least the most important modifications of Byzantium as our national psychology. This is a topic of great research. I will therefore limit myself to the above few illustrations, sufficient to understand what I mean by Byzantine psychology, in contrast to the Byzantine way of thinking.
There is an opinion that we are a people of extremes, unbridled impulses, frenzied faith and frenzied unbelief, which turns into religion. This opinion seems to me to be unfounded. On the contrary, we are rather the most average, most calm and balanced people. And it is not from an excess of faith that our dogmatic unbelief is born, but from our organic disbelief in man, distrust of his strengths and abilities, from our contempt for human creativity, our faith is born as a transcendental consolation, as a kind of spiritual bath in which from time to time we try to wash away the thick crust of impurities of all kinds that have clung to us. Such an “overtone” faith, of course, is all the more pleasant the more sublime and radical it is, and therefore we really have a penchant for the most acute formulations in the area of our ultimate aspirations, but since these latter practically do not oblige us to anything except wearing a noble-sorrowful expression on our faces on holidays, then no life changes arise from our fundamental radicalism.
Our “dual sense of well-being” acquires a particularly unique and mysterious character for Westerners when we—and this often happens—try to make a virtue out of necessity and begin to perceive our dualism, not as misfortune, but as proof of the richness of our nature. Here simple disbelief in a person actually turns into a kind of faith: all the despicable slush of the human soul, everything that is petty, vile, vile, voluptuously cruel and cowardly vindictive in it - all of this suddenly acquires a special aura, as empirically irresistible, inalienable properties of any sufficiently broad and rich mental organization. Here it is no longer the sin of Sodom, as a disgusting but triumphant reality opposes the ideal of purity and holiness, and the “ideal” of Sodom enters into a struggle with the “ideal” of the Madonna.
A soul that recognizes itself as the arena of this struggle cannot, of course, not suffer from such a confrontation, but at the same time it experiences an acute, uplifting feeling and treats with disdain those limited beings who do not feel the metaphysical nature of the Sodomite temptation, believe in the progress of human nature and actually improve it to the best of their ability.
Western European travelers who visited us back in the old days of Muscovite Rus' stopped with particular bewilderment at one of our national features, which they called “l’hypocrisie moscovite” 1126. This l’hypocrisie moscovite, but philosophically conscious and elevated to a religious-cosmic principle, is the vital nerve of Russian Byzantineism as a worldview.
N.A. Berdyaev. Types of religious thought in Russia 1127
For the spiritual life of Russia over the past fifteen years, the emergence and development of religious and philosophical movements, the search for faith and experiments in its justification are significant. The traditional worldview of positivism and materialism underwent a serious crisis and collapsed among the spiritually advanced stratum of the Russian intelligentsia. Russia entered the 20th century with religious questioning, with a readiness to direct its spiritual energy to religious and philosophical thought. In broad layers of society the traditional intellectual worldview still continued to dominate, and the old positivism had not yet lost its credibility. But it is not these quantitative criteria that determine what is central and essential in national spiritual life. The creative energy of thought finally left the old directions and moved to new religious and philosophical movements. The enemies of these movements should also admit this. But it would be false to say that nothing preceded Russian religious thought at the beginning of the 20th century in Russia in the 19th century. Dostoevsky, L. Tolstoy and Vl.
Soloviev predetermined the direction of Russian advanced religious thought in the 20th century. These great, great Russian people set the themes on which our consciousness is now working. We have already gone far from their teachings, but we must always remember their images when we turn to our origins. It was they who made a shift in Russian consciousness and directed our thought onto a new path. Russian religious thought revolves around Christianity, and for it only that which is connected with Christian themes and questions is essential and characteristic. This determines the purpose of my essays. For me, only those movements that have some connection with Christianity, at least in the most unorthodox form, are important and necessary. Only these movements have a creative future in Russia. Religious thought in Russia has many shades. But some forms of religious thought have only a transitional significance and are elementary and rudimentary for religious consciousness. A developed and revealed religious consciousness cannot help but come close to Christianity and not be sick of Christian themes.
This is felt even in theosophical movements.
In the diverse manifestations of Russian religious thought, several basic types of worldview and worldview can be discovered. (The classification of types on which I will base my characteristics and my criticism is, of course, conditional and is largely determined by the interests of my own religious thought, but I think there is also something objective here that draws significant furrows in our spiritual life.) The main thing, after all, is the type of Orthodox religious thought, which is expressed in various attempts to revive Orthodoxy. What interests me most is the psychology of religious thought. The Orthodox movement is characterized by a desire for religious seriousness and historical monumentality: it seeks the roots and age-old foundations of religious consciousness, it is afraid of human arbitrariness and the replacement of the religiously authentic with the far-fetched and artificially inflated.
But these good aspirations of the will do not save the revivalists of historical-monumental Orthodoxy from the artificial stylization of the past, from artificially attuning themselves to the mood of ancient feelings, from decadent aestheticism in life assessments, from unconscious or semi-conscious substitutions. This is felt most of all in the brightest, most talented representative of our Orthodox thought - in the priest. P. Florensky, whose book “The Pillar and Statement of Truth” should be recognized as the most significant phenomenon in this movement 1128. S. N. Bulgakov, St. P. Florensky, book. E. N. Trubetskoy 1129, V. Ern, Volzhsky and others - this is, if not a new Christianity, not a new religious consciousness, then in any case a new Orthodoxy,
new in Orthodoxy. They fail to completely stylize themselves into the old, archaic type of historical Orthodoxy, although they see their point d’honneur 1130 in not being modernists. Despite their desires and aesthetic tastes, they still remain Orthodox modernists, but the duality of their will and their consciousness makes their modernism uncreative. This is a phenomenon completely opposite to what we see in Catholic modernism. There, the original Catholics are captivated by the modern spirit, seeking new life and new thought. Among us, people of a modern spirit are captivated by the old religious truth and are looking for ways to return to the fold of the Church. But the Orthodoxy of these people is not like the Orthodoxy of Bishop Theophan the Recluse 1131 or the Orthodoxy of such modern guardians of conservative Orthodoxy as M. Novoselov, V. Kozhevnikov, F. Samarin 1132, etc. Even Vyacheslav Ivanov finds it possible to get closer to the new Orthodoxy and establish mystical-aesthetic connections with it.
The type of religious consciousness that interests us is characterized by an unquenchable thirst for return, an escape from modernity into the mother's womb of the Church, an eternal conversion to Christianity that can never be completed. The creative forces of this movement are strained by the eternal repentance of thought, self-overcoming, a negative reaction against one’s past, against the intellectual consciousness. Representatives of this type of religious thought seem bold and daring in their return to Christianity, to Orthodoxy from intellectual unbelief. They almost admire the fact that they have become Orthodox, churchmen, compete with each other in the degree of their orthodoxy and churchliness, and childishly rejoice at their new position in the world. But within Christianity itself they do not have the courage to initiate; they are deprived of creative power. They are modernists not because they embark on the path of religious creativity, but because they cannot overcome the duality of modern people within themselves.
But their pride is aimed at being as orthodox as possible, as faithful as possible to ancient traditions. They would like to gradually accept the entire historical building of not only the Church, but also the church-domestic and church-state system; they aesthetically intimidate themselves and others with the ugliness of everything new, modern, created by man. But out of necessity, they are doomed to remain mediators between old Orthodoxy and modern culture, divided and torn. People of this religious type are fatally deprived of religious integrity and especially greedily seek integrity in a return to the old orthodoxy, to the former organicity. They are always looking around, looking back, running away from themselves and their time and thereby weakening themselves, they cannot find a solid point of support in themselves for creative movement forward. This movement has a fairly high philosophical culture and is distinguished by great consciousness, even too much.
The return to Orthodox integrity and Orthodox primitivism in this movement is thoroughly conscious, far-fetched, philosophical, cultural, mental. Naivety of experiences and naivety of thought cannot be found in this current. You can only experience what is new, modern, and created for the first time naively and directly. The old, the former, created by others can only be experienced sentimentally, reflectively and consciously. That religious materialism and religious naive realism, which at a certain age in the life of Christian peoples were affirmed directly, naively, wholeheartedly and in the atmosphere of a poetic folk sense of life, in the modern revival of Orthodoxy are affirmed consciously and philosophically, with reflection, with caution, with stylization. Conscious naivety, reflective integrity, modernized archaism - this is what is characteristic of the modern revival of Orthodoxy. But hidden behind this is a genuine thirst for a holistic faith.
Socially, the most characteristic representative of this type of religious thought is S. N. Bulgakov. His path is typical. He came from Marxism, through idealism, to Orthodoxy. He occupies a leading position in a well-known religious and philosophical movement. Bulgakov can be called a repentant intellectual, just as we once had repentant nobles. This is a new phenomenon in Russian life. The priest is more original, brilliant and, in a religious sense, more proactive. P. Florensky, and he, apparently, can be recognized as the inspirer of the entire modern school of Orthodox religious thought. A priest, a professor at the Moscow Theological Academy, close to the elders and to the deserts - he, by virtue of the religious path he has traveled and the position he occupies, gives religious directives. Despite his youth, he is recognized as an authority. Poorly discern decadence in the sacred. P. Florensky, his artificial stylization, Alexandrism 1133, his eternal reckoning with himself and flight from himself, his terrible skepticism and the lack of creative spirit in him. But no matter how you evaluate the priest.
Florensky, it must be said that its meaning is more individual, outside the great historical path of Russian thought. It is warm and exotic. Bulgakov's meaning is more general, more historically typical, more broadly social. As a thinker and writer, Bulgakov is not intimate, he is afraid of intimacy and does not have the gift of intimacy. He is broadly social in the nature of his thinking, in his manner of writing, even if he himself fled from the spirit of society. In Bulgakov’s type there is something historically universal, characteristically typical for Russian spiritual life and Russian quests. Bulgakov introduced his former Marxism into his Orthodoxy, and in his very flight from the camp of the Russian intelligentsia, typical intellectual traits continue to be felt. It is characteristic of the spiritual crisis of the intelligentsia. By his spiritual type, he was and remained a dogmatist, torn by reflection, eternally seduced by what is alien to him and what is external to him. V.F.
Ern floats in the same religious and philosophical channel as Bulgakov, but he has not yet expressed himself enough in literature and is less typical, less connected with the main currents of Russian thought, more narrow, he does not have the anxiety of Bulgakov. Book E. P. Trubetskoy stands somewhat aloof, he is less extreme, too academic, and not sensitive enough to mystical themes. But his book is about Vl. Solovyov is interesting and characteristic of Orthodox thought 1134. In characterizing that type of religious thought that can be called the revival of Orthodoxy, I will first of all have in mind Bulgakov.
Bulgakov's worldview and his entire religious philosophy are characterized by dualism, division, and transcendental opposition, carried out everywhere 1135. This extreme dualism is, apparently, the only way of perceiving life known to him, and he tries to find religious and philosophical sanction for it. Everything that Bulgakov writes clearly reflects his eternal fluctuations between the sanctity of Orthodoxy, the desert, the elders, asceticism, prayer, divine transcendence and worldly culture and society, the mind that organizes life, science, philosophy, economy and thriftiness, everything humanly immanent. This dualism was inherited by Bulgakov throughout his entire life. All the time one feels that Bulgakov is powerless to experience with religious pathos and immanent enlightenment the value of culture and society, the value of his life in the world and his thought, his knowledge, his human activity.
He cannot live without worldly culture and society, without thought, without worldly knowledge and without communication in the world, but he cannot put religious pathos into all this, he cannot feel God in all this from the inside. The only religiously pathetic moments for him are moments of escape from the world and from worldly values in the desert, to the elders, to the stable experience of Orthodoxy. But again and again he turns to the world and turns to it with his economic, reasonable, prudent and comfortable appearance. God remains transcendent to man and the world, and the world and man remain transcendent to God. Bulgakov is always running away from man and the world into the transcendental, he is always afraid of man and the world. And again it returns to man and the world, but does not bring the transcendental into the life of man and the world. The transcendent never becomes immanent, does not transform and enlighten life from the inside. In the creativity of life there is no internal religious burning, no pathos.
And there remains only one way to justify life in the world - to justify worldly life as obedience, as bearing burdens and burdens, as earning the consequences of sin. Bulgakov embarks on this path of justifying life. His religious pathos is the pathos of distance, the infinite distance between man and God, the world and God, the pathos of the transcendence of God, the baseness and insignificance of the creature in the face of the Creator. Apparently, he considers the experience of this transcendental distance to be a religious experience par excellence. In experiences of religious immanence and divine proximity, he is inclined to see a bias towards human-divinity and world-divinity. This feeling of the infinite transcendental distance of God from the world and man was inherited by Bulgakov from his positivism and Marxism. For truly, for positivism and Marxism, God is completely and finally transcendent to the world and man; nothing divine shines through from within.
In essence, positivism is the extreme, the most extreme transcendentalism of God-consciousness - God is finally taken out of the existence of man and the world and pushed beyond the limits of all attainability. This poison of a completely godless worldly life remained in Bulgakov and always frightens him. This pathos of transcendence makes him internally unfree, always suppressed by something, and gives rise to timidity of spirit in him. Bulgakov does not bring his human experience into his religious consciousness, does not enrich his religious thought in his own way, since he is in eternal horror from his humanity, eternally running from it, as from being devoid of all divinity. And this prevents him from playing a creative religious role. He does not go to a new life. He is doomed to be a restorer. Bulgakov's path, like the path of too many in the modern religious movement, is an escape from man and the human into divine transcendence. He seeks a religious center not within himself, not in the depths, not in what is intimately immanent to him, but outside, at an infinite distance, in what is completely transcendent to him.
And this is so characteristic of modern man, of his weariness from the godless human existence, this is how religious impotence reveals itself after wandering through the deserts of positivism! The religious melancholy of a person exhausted and frightened finds its form in a transcendental religious consciousness.
Bulgakov's transcendental dualism is expressed in his manner of writing, in the impossibility of finding his own unified style. He cannot free himself from academicism, from the old rationalistic manner, from a completely discursive method of treating mystical topics. In the structure of the phrases one senses a fearfulness from within and the freedom to approach religious and mystical issues closely. But this old rationalistic manner, very cautious and fearful, alternates in Bulgakov with lyricism, which cannot be called successful. Bulgakov can be called a failure in lyricism, and this failure is determined by the primordial dualism that dooms him to fragmentation, by his sense of the divine not as an internal principle, but as an object of aspiration. Bulgakov does not look at his writing as a pathetic revelation of his inner spiritual energy. He cannot free himself from the obligation to prove and justify his truth and truth in the way he was used to doing when he was a Marxist and a Kantian.
He does not like science, does not have the pathos of scientific knowledge, but he is afraid of science and treats it as a threatening external force. And he feels science as transcendental, that is, not free. Bulgakov's language is devoid of internal religious pathos, since he perceives all literature as worldly, completely transcendental to the divine, almost as sinful and improper. It would be better to remain silent in prayer. Bulgakov goes from the world to God, but never from God to the world. He seems to despise his own thought and is afraid of it, always feeling its sinful impurity. With such a feeling, you cannot think and write with pathos, you cannot develop a style adequate to your inner spiritual life. Bulgakov builds a religious philosophy and despises it; he is not sure of the righteousness and value of this kind of activity. And he envies holiness: he wants to run away from his own thoughts, from his own writing. The work of the thinker and writer in the world remains unjustified. For the revived Orthodox consciousness, all cultural creativity is poisoned, all the fruits of human creativity are bitter.
All that remains is the possibility of carrying a dual, compromise existence, forever oscillating between two poles, transcendental to each other. The most characteristic thing for Bulgakov is that he is completely devoid of the pathos of strength, he cannot experience anything as his own inner power.
Bulgakov's philosophy makes attempts to justify this worldly cultural life, which remains unjustified by his psychology. Since the divine has been taken out of man and the world, since God is not immanent and one cannot create life with religious pathos, then the justification of all life in the world remains as obedience, as bearing the burden and burden of a sinful world. Bulgakov's philosophy is very modernized and armed with all modern philosophical tools, but basically its spirit is the same as that of Bishop Theophan the Recluse, for whom all life in the world was justified as obedience to the consequences of sin. And in Theophan’s Orthodox theology there was the same economic motive as in the modern philosophizing of Bulgakov. Economics exists in Russian Orthodoxy, in our spiritual life. Bulgakov's modern thriftiness, associated with his economic materialism, met the old thriftiness of Theophan the Recluse 1136. And Bulgakov accepts an economic attitude towards life and fearfully rejects a creative attitude towards life.
The religious experience of life in the world for him is obedience, the bearing of burdens, and not creativity - it is determined not by excess creative energy, but by a lack of sinful nature.
Bulgakov’s most significant and original creation is his “Philosophy of Economics.” In this book, he managed to express his worldview and substantiate it well philosophically. The title of this book is not entirely accurate and is too narrow. In essence, this is not an economic philosophy, but an economic philosophy, even an economic religion. Bulgakov gives us a special type of religious thought. Economics is not only the object of Bulgakov’s thought, it penetrates through the subject of thought. Bulgakov is a theologian in economics and an economist in theology. He remained an economic materialist and transferred his economic materialism to heaven, watering the sky with labor sweat. He even gave Sophia and Sophia an economic character. For him, farming turned into a whole metaphysics of existence, even a kind of mysticism. Bulgakov feels the world as an economy, and God as the Master. Man is the manager of this Master, who is entrusted with cultivating the land. A person does not have his own property.
And he can only manage, cultivate, manage the master’s land, but he cannot be a creator, he cannot be an original artist of life. Bulgakov absolutizes farming and gives it a universal character. He understands man's relationship to nature exclusively as an economic relationship. And he is forced to define culture as an economy. “Culture is carved out of nature only through the labor of mankind, and in this sense we can say, together with economic materialism, that all culture is economy” 1137. The understanding of culture as creative redundancy is completely alien to him. And this is so characteristic of Russian thought! The economic worldview and worldview is the opposite of any artistry, aristocracy, any pathos of freedom and creativity. But economic work, economic work as obedience, is the main thing for Bulgakov and the only source of his religious justification for life.
He does not seem to realize at all that the economic attitude towards nature is always selfish and preoccupied and therefore cannot be Christian, evangelical. The Christian, New Testament attitude to nature and to life should be selfless and carefree, should be contemplation of the divine beauty of the cosmos and the creativity of new cosmic life. The economic attitude towards nature is still entirely Old Testament, legal. He does not know the New Testament spiritual freedom. And the pathos of Christian freedom is alien to Bulgakov. In his attitude to life, in his philosophizing, one can feel the yoke of legality. The basis of his economic religious philosophy is the Old Testament sense of life, the biblical curse, newly realized in economic materialism, the eternal dependence on natural necessity. Bulgakov's economic religion is the religion of the clan, the cursed natural clan. Sophia herself, to whose cult he comes and with whom he associates the most intimate things in his religious philosophy, is a generic Sophia, giving birth and managing.
Therefore, the economy turns out to be Sofia. But the Heavenly Virgin - Sophia does not give birth and does not manage the human race, and she cannot be involved in household chores and the sweat of labor. These plans are completely incommensurable. For Bulgakov, everything economic turns out to be uniquely divine. He comes, in his economic religious philosophy, to justify everyday life. And in this he meets the old Orthodoxy. Russian elders, such as Ambrose of Optina 1138 or Theophan the Recluse, religiously justified tribal life, economic concerns, and the natural, traditional economy of life. Trading in the shop for Ambrose and Feofan had more justification than philosophical, artistic, and social creativity. Life in the tribal household is justified as obedience. Human creativity is daring and may turn out to be a satanic deviation towards man-divinity. With Bulgakov, all this is less primitive and less naive, more complex, more conscious, more modern. But he also comes to the same point.
Bulgakov very consistently denies the creative nature of man and fears creativity as Satanism. In this regard, his “Philosophy of Economics” contains very bright passages. Bulgakov seeks a philosophical justification for his religious fear of creativity in Platonism. First of all, he denies that knowledge is creativity. The source of the denial of human creativity is in the religious pathos of the transcendental distance between the creature and the Creator. In the depths of created nature there are no sources of creativity; these sources always lie in the Creator, transcendent in relation to created nature. It is not given to create out of nothing, that is, from freedom, from depth; it is given only to redistribute the given elements of a closed and complete created nature. For Bulgakov, the creature’s claim to original creativity is Satanism.
Knowledge “is the revelation of what is metaphysically given, in this it is not creation from nothing, but only re-creation, reproduction of the given, which has become given, and this re-creation becomes creativity only insofar as it is free and labor reproduction. Human creativity therefore does not contain anything metaphysically new; it only reproduces and recreates from existing, already created elements, and according to newly found, recreated, but also already given samples. Creativity in its own sense, the creation of a metaphysically new thing, is not given to man as a created being and belongs to the Creator... Human creativity creates not an “image” that is given, but a “likeness” that is given, reproduces in a free, labor, historical process that which exists from eternity, as an ideal prototype. And the rebellion of the creature against the Creator, the deviation of Satanism, metaphysically boils down to an attempt to erase this difference, to become “like the gods,” to have everything of one’s own” 1139.
This is how Bulgakov declares any immanent religious consciousness, which reveals creative divine energy within, in the depths of man, as a bias towards Satanism. The transcendental and absolute opposition of creature and Creator is the scheme into which he wants to fit orthodox, pious, God-submissive Christianity. Creation is completely complete and closed; the creative process does not continue in man and through man. Man is a trembling and humiliated creature. He is given only the economic management of God's estate created by God. In such a consciousness one can feel the unresolved religious servility 1140, the religious immaturity of man. Submission to the transcendental, i.e., external and distant will of God is the last thing. This is a heteronomous, not an autonomous religious consciousness. This placement of the center outside one’s own depths gives rise to timidity and humiliation of the slave, which is experienced almost ecstatically.
But, it would seem, Christianity poses a great task for people - “be like gods.” It would seem that Christianity is the achievement of the perfect immanence of God to man, Christianity lifts man to an unprecedented height and, through the God-man, introduces him to the divine secrets of the Holy Trinity. But Bulgakov in his religious ontology absolutizes one of the moments of religious experience and the religious path - passing through the splitting and opposition of the human and the Divine, the creature and the Creator. He rationalistically consolidates this inevitable moment in religious life and creates a static religious ontology for all eternity. Bulgakov does this in his own way, but in this he follows all the external Christianity of a certain age of humanity. His Christianity remains in the naturalistic stage of the religion of the race. Philosophically and religiously, Bulgakov accepts objective materialism and realism. He is not a symbolist. He believes that the materialization of Christianity in the natural and historical plane is the last and most hidden.
He makes no distinction between esoteric, hidden, internal Christianity and exoteric, visible, external Christianity. Everything materially visible and embodied in Christianity is not symbols of something else, something hidden, but the ultimate reality. This non-symbolic, real-materialistic acceptance of Christianity leads to hopeless dependence on the external and always ends in slavery of the spirit. The spirit is liberated only by absorbing everything inside itself and perceiving everything external as symbols of what is happening in its depths, the most intimate inner.
It follows from the transcendentalism and materialism of Bulgakov’s religious philosophy that freedom for him is absorbed by necessity. He is deprived of the pathos of religious freedom. He has no room left for the irrational mystery of freedom, for bottomless freedom. His freedom is subject to law and subject to necessity. The fear of freedom does not go away in Bulgakov, and with religious pathos he experiences divine fate, divine necessity. “Freedom... must be introduced into the solid shores of necessity in order to serve the revelation of a single plan... Freedom is the general basis of the creative process, while necessity determines the framework of this process and, to that extent, predetermines freedom and directs its path. Both for the individual and for historical humanity, necessity exists as the law of his own life” 1141. “For God, man with the hidden possibilities and forces of history is completely transparent, and it is thanks to this that the outcome of history is guaranteed in accordance with the divine plan.
Freedom extends only to the course of the historical process, but not to its outcome. The providence of God, leading man through necessity, is therefore the highest law of history" 1142. This is how Bulgakov reveals a completely passive understanding of the Apocalypse of world history. Man and humanity are not the active creator of world historical destinies. Man passively and with trepidation awaits the fulfillment of apocalyptic destinies over him. Very connected in Bulgakov's religious philosophy are his economism, materialism, naturalism, his pathos of work and obedience and his denial of creative freedom. All one thing follows from the other and one thing supports the other.
In appearance, Bulgakov's teaching about Sophia is unsuccessful and may seem inorganic. But if you delve deeper into Bulgakov’s worldview, it becomes clear that he had to come to Sophia. Bulgakov's sophistry is an expression of feminine-passive religiosity, obediently accepting the given world order. The highest point of this Sophia religiosity is sorrow and tenderness. For a more masculine religious spirit, Sophia is a man's search for his lost virginity, his androgynous image. Sophia is associated with the problem of man. But in Bulgakov’s religious and philosophical consciousness, Sophia is the sanction for all eternity of matter, as the Mother of God, the sanction of the race, as the divine hypostasis. And a bias is formed towards the creation of the fourth hypostasis of the Divine, the feminine hypostasis. This is especially clear in St. P. Florensky. But Bulgakov also has a strong craving for the religion of the feminine Divinity.
This is the most intimate thing in him, the only way out for him from the feeling of endless distance and opposition between man and God, from the prose and burden of economic obedience. The poetry of Bulgakov's religion, which, of course, he has, is associated with Sophia, with the mediation of divine femininity, diffused in nature and permeating the earth. The world and world life for Bulgakov are not divine, but sophian. And one can suspect this consciousness in the fact that for him it is not Christ, not the God-man, who is the mediator between man and God, the world and God, but Sophia, the divine femininity.
This bias, apparently, is inevitable for any type of religiosity that denies the activity and creativity of man and the heroic religious principle. This also exists in the depths of Orthodoxy itself, and there is a more intimate feeling of the Mother of God than of Christ. And Mary feels more like a mother than a virgin. In Russian Orthodoxy there is a bias towards the religion of giving birth to femininity, giving birth to the earth, the religion of motherhood and gender. Associated with this is the feeling of the holiness and eternity of matter. This is the deep roots of conservatism. This type of religious worldview is characterized by a desire to dissolve and surrender. The cult of the virgin giving birth from the Spirit is freedom. The cult of femininity, giving birth in the natural-tribal order, is a necessity. And the image of virginity is doubled between these two paths. Bulgakov chooses the path of sophia that reinforces necessity. This is how a religion of animal, organic warmth, a feminine religion is formed. In this warmth, in this all-encompassing femininity, they hide from the cold and fire of the religious path, which dares to take on the cross and crucifixion.
Sophia is the intimate, lyrical, joyful side of what is objectively and forcibly revealed to Bulgakov as thriftiness. This entire Moscow Orthodox movement has never revealed in anything the feeling of Christ, intimate closeness to Christ. The impression remains that Sophia is replacing Christ: they are almost afraid of Christ Himself. And the hardest thing is to find Christ among the priests. P. Florensky.
To characterize Bulgakov's type of religious thought, the chapters he published from his intended philosophy of religion 1143 are very significant. It is very characteristic and interesting that in his approach to the problems of the philosophy of religion, Bulgakov remains a Kantian, just as he remains an economic materialist in his philosophy of economics. He pretends to be a Kantian, out of fear of scientific philosophy he puts on the garb of Kantianism that he hates. Very strange for a Russian Orthodox thinker, who always contrasts his ontology with Kantian transcendentalism, such titles as “The Transcendental Problem of Religion”, “How is Religion Possible?” etc. In his method, Bulgakov remains a rationalist in the philosophy of religion; he primarily deals with transcendental categories. In this one senses a divided and doubting mind, for which its dogmatism is never immanent. The object of Bulgakov's faith always remains transcendental to his thought. He is not a Gnostic at all, he is an anti-Gnostic.
A Gnostic is a completely free person in the ways of his religious knowledge; he does not need transcendental authority and he does not accept any heteronomous values external to his depth 1144. Bulgakov is not at all free in the ways of his religious knowledge, he inevitably comes to transcendental authority, he places the center outside himself. He is not free already because he is completely devoid of the pathos of science, he never considers science his own, his business, but he is afraid of someone else’s science, “their” science, and constantly adapts to it. Science is also an authority for him. He adapts to it and at the same time takes a defensive, apologetic position. Bulgakov is clearly embarrassed by the work of “their” science in the field of religion and does not give him peace.
The transcendental formulation of the problems of the philosophy of religion, the translation into epistemological language of prayer and sacraments, the consideration of Christianity as a myth, and every myth as reality and as a synthetic religious judgment a priori - all this is not immanent gnosis in Bulgakov, not his free knowledge, but a protective device, a measure of protection from enemies, taking on some of the techniques of enemies. In knowledge for him everything is obedience, nothing is inspiration. He likes to use expressions such as “scientific piety”, obedience to science, etc.
Bulgakov's main objective philosophical error must be sought in a completely incorrect formulation of the problem of immanence and transcendence and its incorrect solution. He seems to confuse immanentism with subjectivism, and transcendentism with objectivism. “Immanent is that which is contained within a given closed circle of consciousness; what is beyond this circle is transcendental or does not exist within these limits.” But the religious problem of immanence stands on the other side of the subjective and objective in the epistemological or psychological sense of these concepts. Religious immanentism does not at all mean staying “within a given closed circle of consciousness.” Quite the opposite. Religious immanentism means the boundless movement of the spirit in depth, the boundlessness of internal religious experience, the unlimitedness of religious knowledge by any insurmountable limits. Can we say that such a typical religious immanentist as Eckhart revolves “within the vicious circle of consciousness”, limited by subjectivity?
In essence, all mystics were immanentists, and immanentism always means an experimental movement from any periphery and shell into the depths of the divine, the experience of the divine as internal and profound. But Bulgakov’s whole religion is in objectification. His transcendentalism is objectification, throwing out what is in the depths. For all his formal epistemology, Bulgakov does not even try to pose the fundamental question for religious epistemology: what does “object” and “objective” mean in religious life? He does not even think about overcoming any “objectification” in religion, which is what all mystics strived for. Is there generally a division into subject and object in religious life and religious knowledge? Is it not in the identity of subject and object that religious life and religious knowledge flow? Isn’t every opposition of an object to a subject already a rationalization? And can God be an object? Bulgakov does not even pose all these questions and therefore easily refers to the terms “objective” and “subjective”. In the rationalistic aspect, God can be an object.
But this is not the depth of religious life, religious experience. And the depth of Bulgakov’s own religious experience, of course, lies beyond his objectification of the transcendent. “God is transcendental... He is the only true Not-I... Between the world and God lies an absolute, insurmountable distance for the world...” “Religion is based on the polarization of consciousness, an intense sense of the opposition between the transcendent and the immanent, God-consciousness and world-consciousness.” All these definitions of Bulgakov are not in the last depth. All this is secondary, not primary, already rationalization, already objectification, an externally exoteric expression of the innermost. Bulgakov wants to pass off the penultimate as the last and wants to absolutize and perpetuate the moment of objectification in the spiritual path. He is haunted everywhere by the ghost of man-deity - the main fear of his life, and the fear of this ghost prevents him from recognizing the immanence of the divine to man, the inner, deep action of the divine mind and divine energies in man.
He also approaches the same central theme from the side of negative theology.
It is interesting what Bulgakov writes about negative theology, but even here one can feel his timidity and lack of freedom everywhere. As if everything for him is external and distant, and not internal and close. He objectifies his unfreedom in his transcendental consciousness. Bulgakov values the antinomy of religious consciousness most of all and clings tightly to it. “Antinomy is a clear sign of the well-known transcendence of the object of thought for thinking and, at the same time, the collapse of rational, epistemological immanentism. Antinomic thinking takes possession of its subject, makes it immanent to itself only in part, or to a certain limit, which is revealed in antinomy.” This is what Bulgakov says and makes of antinomy a guard that does not allow movement along the immanent paths of knowledge and spiritual life. But he misunderstands the nature of religious antinomy. Antinomy does not exist at all to refute immanentism and affirm transcendentism. A completely different understanding of antinomy is possible.
Antinomy is always addressed to the “world” and to the “mind of this world.” The secrets of divine life are hidden by antinomy for the world, and this antinomy is insurmountable for rational thought. Antinomy is the secrecy of divine fullness, for which there is no rationalistic-limiting either/or, for example, One God, or Trinity God. But this antinomy, always correlated with this “world” and with its “mind,” is removed within religious experience, in the experience of the mysteries of divine life and divine knowledge. Religious experience, religious knowledge are always immanent and not transcendental. The transcendental exists only for the life of this “world” and for the knowledge of the worldly mind. Antinomy is a guard that does not allow the “world” and the “mind of the world” to the secrets of divine life without sacrifice and renunciation. But the human spirit is immanent to divine life, and divine life is immanent to the human spirit. He knows divinity not only from the side of its protective antinomy addressed to “this world.”
Bulgakov's main mistake, perhaps, is that for him man is always immanent to this world and transcendental to God, while the depth of man is immanent to God and transcendental to the world. The antinomy is directed against rationalism, and not against genuine and deep immanentism. And Bulgakov’s main thesis about discontinuity, an impassable transcendental abyss separating the Absolute and the relative, Creator and creation, God and man, can only be directed against popular pantheism and vulgar monism, which identify God with the world and nature. But we must take into account more complex and subtle forms of God-consciousness. Bulgakov stylizes too simplistically an unpleasant and hostile type of God-consciousness and risks winning too easily. Smooth rationalism and monism denies any discontinuity and antinomy in thinking and experience, affirms evolutionary continuity. But it seems to Bulgakov that every Gnostic, even the greatest mystic like I.
Boehme, is still the same smooth rationalist and monist, and that the same arguments are appropriate against him. But truly mystical gnosis enters a different path, it enters that depth that no longer knows the guardian of antinomy, it is immanent to the divine, and not the worldly, it recognizes the divine mind, and not the mind of this world. For mystical gnosis the immanent continuity of divine thought and divine life is open, the abyss has already been crossed, miraculously and mysteriously overcome. But Bulgakov does not believe in gnosis, is afraid of it and does not want it. He values most of all maintaining distance and “sacred ignorance.” Gnosis seems to him to be pride and a threat to the very existence of religion. But after all, any entry into the depths of divine life and divine mystery threatens the existence of religion, and from this point of view one must want to fundamentally leave man away from God! This is the paradox of religious life: going too deep into religious life abolishes religion, which was created for the distant and fallen.
Bulgakov seems to prefer to remain on the periphery, just to have religion. He values religion more than divine life itself.
Every mysticism and every mystical gnosis turns out to be rationalism. Rationalists - Eckhart and Boehme. But only transcendental church dogma can be recognized as rationalism, overcoming rationalism. The teachers of the Church are not rationalists. For Basil the Great, as for every most ordinary teacher of the Church, there is a transcendental discontinuity, a sacred agnosticism, therefore he is not a rationalist. And Bulgakov is essentially forced to reject all the mystics that history knows. For him, exoteric, external Christianity is higher than esoteric, internal Christianity. To remain on the periphery means for him to overcome rationalism; to go deep means to be a rationalist. Thus everything is overturned, and violence is committed against terminology. Still, most of the teachers of the Churches were the most ordinary rationalists in their thinking. The mystical depth of Isaac the Syrian 1145, Maximus the Confessor or Simeon the New Theologian 1146 are rare pearls in patristic literature.
And in official theology, based entirely on the principle of transcendental discontinuity, nothing can be found except deadening scholasticism and superficial rationalistic apologetics. Bulgakov's basic scheme of discontinuity, resting on transcendence and the abyss, and continuity, immanently cognizing divine secrets, is completely unsuitable for judgments about mysticism, although it is quite orthodox and ecclesiastical. In essence, Bulgakov, in a more refined and in-depth form, repeats the usual arguments of dogmatic church authorities against mysticism and Gnosticism. The Church, at a certain stage of its development, banned Gnosticism and thereby strengthened agnosticism. The authoritarian consciousness cannot tolerate the autonomy of mystical gnosis.
And Bulgakov certainly wants to interpret negative theology as a transcendental theology, leading all knowledge to a transcendental breakthrough. But the negative theology associated with the Areopagistic works attributed to St. Dionysius the Areopagite 1147, is a mystical, seraphic theology. Like any mystical knowledge of God, it is based on immanent mystical experience and recognizes immanent knowledge of God through the stages of detachment. Denial is only a special method of mystical cognition, internally posited by it, and not an externally imposed border and limit. Orthodox transcendental theology has always had a rather strained relationship with mystical negative theology and has always suspected it of a bias towards pantheism, of borrowing from Neoplatonism, that is, in the end, of religious immanentism. For negative theology, the dogma of a transcendent God is objectification, and not the ultimate mystery, not the ultimate depth. For mystical theology, revelation is an immanent, not a transcendental act.
The revelation of God and the divine life takes place in our depths and with us. And therefore, every religious experience and religious knowledge is immanent, internal, deep, and is the most intimate thing in us. The negative path of mystical theology leads to the transcendental, as the ineffable Mystery, the Abyss, the primordial Nothing. But this is not the transcendence that Bulgakov wants. The Divine is both closer, more immanent to us, and further, more mysterious than transcendental consciousness claims. The mysteries of divine life do not end where transcendental theology sees an end, they are pushed back into ever greater depth. Transcendental God-consciousness remains in some middle, in something intermediate, for it the Divinity is both too distant, external, and too well known, not mysterious enough. This intermediateness and middleness is the fate of all objectification, all throwing out.
For immanent consciousness of God and knowledge of God, the Divine is a Mystery and an Abyss; no categories of this world with its objectification and materialization are applicable to Him, and at the same time, endless immanent movement in spiritual experience and spiritual knowledge is possible, the path into the depths of divine life is open. All mystics teach that the Divine is revealed and covered. Bulgakov's analysis of the Divine Nothing is interesting and may seem convincing, but it is based on completely external, peripheral and, in the end, illusory oppositions. It is in vain that he thinks that all immanentism must deny creation and recognize the emanation doctrine in one form or another. If God is the Creator and created the world, this does not mean that creation is extradivine and does not reside in God. Creation is the revelation of God, His revelation, development in Him.
Bulgakov has recently become very interested in Jacob Boehme and paid much attention to him in his philosophy of religion 1148. Boehme worries him, seduces him and pushes him away. And in his attitude towards Boehme one senses some kind of lack of freedom, eternal looking back, conformity with apologetic goals. Bulgakov wants to squeeze Boehme into his scheme at all costs and classify him as a type hostile to himself. In Bulgakov’s characterization of Boehme one can feel too much the modern struggle, modern religious and philosophical reckonings. Bulgakov does not feel the uniqueness and uniqueness of Boehme, the non-general expression of his face. For him, Boehme stands in the same ranks as Eckhart, and belongs to that general type of German mysticism, which for apologetic purposes must be exposed and refuted. Boehme turns out to be a rationalist, monist, acosmist, immanentist, evolutionist, emanentist, i.e., endowed with all the diseases and sins of heretical mysticism in general and German mysticism in particular. Hegel, Hartmann, and even Steiner are already sitting in Böhme 1149.
“In Boehm’s God, from his first movement towards revelation to the remote corner of the universe, from the angel to the last bug, everything is clear, everything is explained, everything is rationalized. There is no place here for antinomy, with its logical break, nor for the Mystery: unalloyed rationalism is the other side of that omniscience or “gnosis” that Hegel imagined himself possessing, on some grounds, and on others, Boehme, which is why it turns out to be so related in tendencies to modern “theosophism,” occultism or mystical rationalism.” Here Boehme clearly falls victim to apologetic zeal and schematism. Boehme had to turn out to be a rationalist, because he was pre-assigned to that type of Gnosticism, which is based on the law of “continuity of thought.” And so it turns out that the greatest of the mystics, who constantly interrupted his exposition with the exclamation: “This is a great mystery,” for whom everything is a Mystery, has no place for Mystery. It is in vain that Bulgakov thinks that gnosis excludes the Mystery - it leads to the Mystery, it is revelation and covering.
But the Mystery of mystical gnosis lies deeper and further than the Mystery of orthodox dogmatics. It is deeper and further than the dogmas about God themselves. Bulgakov, apparently, read Boehme thoroughly, but perceived it externally and for the purpose of apologetic use. And he did not see the final depth of Boehme, the most mysterious of the mystics, the greatest theosophist of all times, who knew true revelations, who saw the flash of lightning in the darkness. Boehme, who is full of revelations of the cosmos, most of whose works are devoted to natural philosophy, turned out to be an acosmist at the request of the scheme. According to Bulgakov, German mysticism should always be acosmic. This is predetermined by Eckhart and the kinship of the German spirit with the spirit of India and with Neoplatonism. Boehme also turns out to be guilty of impersonalism. But all of Boehme’s mysticism is concrete, not abstract, permeated with the revelation of cosmic multiplicity. In the center of Boehme is the face of Christ. The mysticism of Boehme, unlike Eckhart, Plotinus and the mysticism of India, is not the mysticism of the One, which recognizes man only as apostasy and sin.
Boehme had great insights about man as a positive revelation; he was already faced with an anthropological problem. It is not very appropriate to characterize as a rationalist the seer who saw the Abyss deeper than God and further than God and to whom the primary violent elements in space were revealed. It also turns out that Boehme abhors the flesh and treats marriage with disgust. Everything turns out to be exactly the same as with the Hindus, as with Plotinus and Eckhart. Bulgakov passed over Boehme's greatest revelations about Sophia and the androgyne, with which his problem of man is connected. Sofia Boehme is too different from Sofia Bulgakov. Boehme's mysticism is very complex and mysterious; it does not have the smoothness of monism at all. This is not a purely Aryan mysticism of the Hindu type - it has a Semitic inoculation of Kabbalah 1150, there is salt that is not in the insipid mysticism of the One. Boehme requires an exceptionally attentive, in-depth attitude towards himself 1151. It does not belong to any traditional and easily distinguishable type, it is multi-component and unusually rich.
With only one side he could influence such German thinkers as Hegel or Hartmann. But there were completely different sides to Boehm. Many people eat it. Our Vl. also ate it semiconsciously. Soloviev, and all Christian theosophy. Too often in our time we draw divine wisdom second-hand, not knowing that its source is the wisdom of Jacob Boehme. Outside of it there is no way for Christian Theosophy.
The time has come: the face of the Mysteries
Will be exposed. To this church of miracles
And we see the day through the fabric of the curtains...
Millennial Covenant Through the Ages
Rivers of light will fill you,
And Jacob Boehme is always yours 1152.
J. Boehme cannot and must not fall victim to our rightful opposition to the German spirit. Bulgakov obviously defines himself through polemics against Boehme. And for the understanding of Bulgakov himself, this polemic is very characteristic. In essence, he would have to openly say that he is an enemy of mysticism, that all mysticism is heretical for him. But he decides to speak out to the end. He is attracted and beckoned by mysticism. Bulgakov denies mystical gnosis, which is entirely based on specific mythologems, and recognizes religious metaphysics, which is based on abstract philosophemes. This is very typical. Such were, for the most part, the teachers of the Church in their philosophizing. Fearful agnosticism has often been mistaken for the overcoming of rationalism. But in reality, Irenaeus of Lyons 1153 was many times more rationalist than the brilliant Gnostic Valentinus 1154. Gnosis is intoxicated, ecstatic knowledge and it should not be called rationalism. For Bulgakov, thought, knowledge is obedience, not creativity, and he rejects the ecstasies of knowledge as temptation.
Creative-ecstatic knowledge, similar to Boehm’s, miraculously transports one across the abyss, and only to an outsider it seems that the Gnostic’s thinking is continuous. Bulgakov seems to want to bring mystical immanentism closer to positivistic immanentism. But this is nothing more than a purely external coincidence of terms. The rapprochement between Gnosticism and rationalism is just as external. The method of negative qualifications, in which different meanings of terms coincide, is unconvincing. Bulgakov's qualifications characterize himself, and not Boehme, who eludes all definitions, who is antinomic for all categories. In the end, pure theism is rationalism, always as smooth as pantheism. Boehme's theosophy is neither theism nor pantheism; it is more mysterious, more antinomic, more mystical than these smoothed-out knowledge of God. Bulgakov's theism is also too rational and smooth, like the theism of the Church Fathers. Bulgakov sees monism in the style of Drews everywhere, and wants to discover it in Boehme as well. But in Boehm there is a different depth.
Something of Boehme's mysticism should be instilled into our Russian religious consciousness.
The foundations of Bulgakov's religious philosophy have their fatal and inevitable consequences in practice. The impossibility of immanently, from within, sanctifying life and creativity in the world leads to passive acceptance of the world, to humility before the world order as it is given, to the sanctification of an authoritarian society. This attitude to life clips your wings and deprives you of creative energy. We are faced with an interesting paradox in religious thought. The transcendental gap between God and the world, the denial of the divinity of the world in practice leads to a humble and submissive acceptance of the world as it is, even to the point of humility before evil. Immanent comprehension of the world, as an internal moment of divine life, in practice leads to rejection of the world as it is, to the direction of creative energy to transform the world. Bulgakov religiously weakens himself and cannot direct his energy to reforming, revolutionizing and transforming the world. The path of creative appeal to the world is closed for him.
The world is extradivine for him, but he is forced to accept it as a burden and burden sent down for sins, to humble himself before the world order in the name of the religious virtue of obedience. This leads to the traditional everyday acceptance of the world. This worldview begins with an extreme denial of the divinity of the world, and ends with the affirmation of the divinity of everyday life, the divinity of tribal life, the divinity of the economy in the world, the divinity of the matter of life. Bulgakov is a consistent enemy of the heroic, Promethean principle, which always appears to him as man-deity and Satanism. He contrasts heroism with humility and asceticism 1155. The heroic understanding of life accepts Christ not as an external, transcendent Redeemer, but as an internal, immanent path of the spirit passing through the crucifixion and free Golgotha. An understanding of life that is hostile to all heroism, which accepts all the mysteries of religious life in transcendental opposition, finally objectifies and materializes the Christian mystery, places the cross on Christ, and humility on people.
Bulgakov is afraid and, due to his religious premises, cannot help but be afraid, to assert the will to a new life. Everywhere he sees man-deity, the hidden antichrist principle. He feels anger at every human liberation movement. His understanding of evil is completely transcendental, and not immanent. He fears any free revelation of human nature, like the continuing falling away of Adam. Humanism for him is, as it were, a secondary falling away of Adam in new history. He does not understand the inevitability of the experience of humanism, does not want to see in it a moment in the revelation of human nature. Bulgakov never showed any understanding of the immanent paths of the human spirit, trials, the inevitability of splitting and bifurcation. Religious truth for him is static, not dynamic; it is given as a transcendental norm, and not as a living, moving experience. This is also reflected in his attitude to social life, which is accepted statically and not dynamically. The path traveled by Bulgakov is very significant and interesting.
He began by connecting Christianity with progressive socialism, with Christian politics and with Christian socialism. But in essence, Bulgakov’s progressive politics and some socialism did not flow organically from his, at that time still immature Christianity, they were inherited from it