The longer and harder he studied traditional Orthodoxy, however, the less he felt able to believe in it. As he wrote in his Confessions, he ‘had envied the peasants for their illiteracy and their lack of education’, but their unquestioning faith was beyond his reach:
I was listening to an illiterate peasant, a pilgrim, talking about God, faith, life, and salvation, and a knowledge of faith was opened up to me. I grew closer to the people as I listened to their reflections on life and faith, and I began to understand the truth more and more . . . But as soon as I mixed with learned believers or picked up their books, a certain doubt, dissatisfaction and bitterness over their arguments rose up within me, and I felt that the more I grasped their discourses, the further I strayed from the truth and the closer I came to the abyss. (CW, XXIII, p. 52)
From his early days, Tolstoy had been certain that God endowed human beings with sufficient reason and moral feeling to see the truth. True religion did not need numerous dogmas or the traditional Church; it had to be self-evident, simple and clear. Historic Christianity, rooted in mysteries that one had to believe but could never fully comprehend, did not satisfy him. The sheer number of Christian denominations and fierce theological debates between them was proof, in Tolstoy’s eyes, that none of the existing churches preserved the spirit of the Gospels. Tolstoy’s break with Orthodoxy was the result of tortuous inner reflection, but, as was always the case with him, appeared quick and decisive: at a dinner during one of the fasts, he suddenly asked his son to pass him a meatball prepared for the non-fasting members of the household.
Already during the siege of Sebastopol in 1855 Tolstoy had felt himself ‘capable of devoting’ his entire life to the realization of a ‘great’ and ‘stupendous’ idea – the creation of ‘a new religion appropriate to the stage of development of mankind – the religion of Christ, but purged of mysticism, a practical religion not promising future bliss but giving bliss on earth’. The young officer aspired to work ‘consciously . . . towards the union of mankind by religion’ (Ds, p. 87). By the age of fifty, and great novels behind him, Tolstoy found himself ready to embark on that mission. He aspired to refute nearly 2,000 years of errors, self-deceit and outright lies and to present to the world the real, unadulterated word of Christ.
This mission went beyond the reformation or purification of existing Christianity. The mantle of Martin Luther was too tight for Tolstoy. He wanted to bring to the world a new faith based on some parts of the Gospels, especially the Sermon on the Mount, while totally rejecting other major parts of the New Testament, such as the Acts of the Apostles or the Book of Revelation, and such basic dogmas as the Immaculate Conception, the Holy Trinity and the Resurrection.
Between 1879 and 1882 Tolstoy produced the major theological trilogy that he intended to serve as the foundation of ‘a religion of Christ purged of beliefs and mysticism’. In Confessions he traced his personal evolution from the instinctive religiosity of childhood, through the debauchery and dissipation of youth, the literary and managerial pursuits of his married years, through excruciating despair, acceptance and then renunciation of Orthodoxy before finally arriving at an understanding of the eternal and simple truths of religion that brought him long-sought spiritual peace. In his Critique of Dogmatic Theology Tolstoy set out a theoretical refutation of the doctrine of the Russian Orthodox Church as expounded in the Orthodox Dogmatic Theology of Archbishop Makarii, the accepted canonical source of dogma in nineteenth-century Russian Orthodoxy. He also prepared a new annotated translation of the Gospels followed by a digest, The Gospels in Brief, as it is known in English.
Having completed this tripartite demolition of the edifice of historical Christianity, Tolstoy moved on to making a positive exposition of the new faith. In the years 1883–4 he wrote his groundbreaking treatise What I Believe. Over five years he had developed a comprehensive religious, moral, political, social and economic philosophy that was stunning in its logic and consistency. It is easy to reject Tolstoy’s teachings in their entirety, but to unpick them and juxtapose one part against another to show inner contradictions is incredibly difficult, if not impossible. Tolstoy found his faith in the Gospels, but interpreted them in a way that resonated with thoughts and feelings he had cherished all his life. His Christ was divine not because he had been conceived by the Holy Spirit and risen from the dead, but because his words and life were the absolute embodiment of God’s wisdom and goodness in a way that was naturally consistent with simple reason and eternal morality:
The doctrine of Christ is the doctrine of truth, and, therefore, faith in Christ is not a trust in anything that refers to Jesus, but a knowledge of the truth. It is impossible to persuade or bribe a man to fulfil it. He who understands the doctrine of Christ will have faith in Him, because His doctrine is truth. He who knows the truth cannot refuse to believe in it. (CW, XXIII, p. 410)
Tolstoy read the Gospels as the story of a poor bastard boy and homeless vagabond who willingly gave his life for the light he brought to the world. The prophet’s humble origins and his shameful death did not diminish the glory and beauty of his word; on the contrary, they gave it a power that could only be undermined by improbable claims of a genealogical descent from the Creator or an artificial happy-end-like Resurrection. The idea that God could have willingly sent his son to the cross sounded to Tolstoy like a blasphemy.
According to Tolstoy, the ‘doctrine of Christ’ consisted of five commandments supplementing, correcting or cancelling the commandments of Moses. The first one was never to condemn anyone or regard anyone as an outlaw. The second was not to commit adultery, which included divorce and remarriage. The third was not to swear oaths, that is, never to pledge loyalty to earthly governments or to participate in legal proceedings. The fourth commandment, and key in Tolstoy’s eyes, was not to resist evil with violence. Even in life-threatening circumstances one should not resort to force, but instead accept one’s fate with humility and prayer. Finally, the fifth commandment was not to regard other human beings as enemies or aliens, thus abolishing the division of mankind into nations.
Tolstoy’s starting point was the opening sentences of Rousseau’s Social Contract: ‘Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains. One thinks himself the master of others, and still remains a greater slave than they.’ Rousseau’s thoughts were echoed by the authors of the Declaration of Independence, who aspired to establish an institutional framework that could preserve and guarantee natural liberty. As was always the way with Tolstoy, his conclusions were more radical than others had dared to conceive. For him, the divinely ordained nature of equality meant that no form of coercion could ever be legitimate and no violence could ever be justified. Tolstoy insisted on a literal interpretation of these precepts. He did not envisage an ideal Christian state, because any state with its monarchs, parliaments, politicians, laws, courts, prisons, soldiers, judges, bureaucrats, tax collectors and so on presupposed the existence of a hierarchy and the exercise of power by some over others.