Solzher itsyn did not manage to formulate a precise deological response to Veche's 'patriotic' readers, or to the 'Critical Notes of a Russian Man'. Shimanov did succeed n doing so, but offered no concrete programme of preparation for the year 2000. This void in the Russian New Right's arsenal could only be filled by a person such as Emel'ianov, who himself had for many years been a 'pro-fascist functionary'.
From this it is clear that the 'pro-fascist functionary' Emel'ianov, the Young Guardist Chalmaev, the Nobel laureate Solzhenitsyn and the elevator operator Shimanov all had common enemies, whether the> calied them educated shopkeepers, kike-Freemasons or smatterers (the one d Terence being that Emel'ianov included Solzhenitsyn's supporters among that damned). Thus, Emel'ianov's fascist programme was firmly built into the Orthodox patriotic temple of the Russian New Right.14
The role and function of the Russian Idea
The Russian Idea, an ideology of imperial nationalism, anses in situations where the autocratic system has reached a peak and is starting to slip into decline (as Figure 1 of the Appendix illustrates). That is what happened in the nineteenth century, and is being repeated in the twentieth. To put it another way, the emergence of the Russian Idea ; associated with the progressive exhaustion of the empire's resources: political, social and economic, but — most importantly — ideological, or spiritual as the Russian Idea's followers say. Its emergence signals the empires nabihty to mobilize the masses, or retain their support, and also signals the alienation of the intelligentsia. In the last century, these resources were used up more slowly. This, it seems, accounts for the slowness of the Russ. an Idea's metamorphosis into a shadow ideology of counter-reform capable, in a situation of 'systemic' crisis, of restoring to the empire its mobilizavtonal character and the support of both the 'patriol c' masses and extremist elements among the intelligentsia.
Once it has arisen, however, the Russian Idea develops accord lg to its own internal logic, gradually changing from an instrument of struggle against internal and external evil into one of mobilization against an 'outward foe', so assisting the rebirth of a garrison-state mentality among the 'patriotic masses'. The nucleus of this evolution is contained in it from the start — in the quest for a third, specially Russian, path between democracy and 'soul-destroying despotism' (as we saw from the examples of the early Slavophiles in the nineteenth century and VSKhSON in the twentieth). At the next stage, faced with a choice between 'human rights' and 'saving the nation', the Russian Idea will always choose the latter. (We have the examples of Ivan Aksakov in the nineteenth century and Osipov in our own time.) From here, the path lies open toward defining i bera) sm as an evil of the contemporary world. (Konstantin Leont'ev in the last century and
Solzhenitsyn today) Then follows the imperial dream of having done with the devil once and for all by means of the 'Orthodoxization of the world (Sharapov at the turn of the century and Shimanov in the 1970s.) Finally, a gigantic image of Satan planning to take over the world is drawn out, which only Russia (with her monopoly on political righteousness) is capable of withstanding. Thus the Russian Idea approaches its natural completion (Odinzgoev at the start of the 1920s and Emel'ianov at the end of the 1970s). W hen the 'Nation speaks', it is invariably about fascism
Reform and Russian history
Judging from their reactions, it is clear that Brezhnevist strategists from Old Square* did not understand the mean ng of the Russian Idea's rebirth They, like American sovietologists, did not see it as a sign of the system's decline and slide into a state of 'systemic' crisis. To them, as to the Russian Idea's Western fellow-travellers, it was only another variety of dissidence, opposing the regime. They were not interested in analysing its signals only in stopping them. Accordingly, the problem was given to the political police to deal with. They managed to track down and arrest the members of VSKhSON, exile Osipov internally and expel Solzhei.itsyn, as well as stifle Chalmaev. What they obviously could not do was to change the Brezhnevist strategy which lay at the root of the problem.
This strategy was laden with political stagnation, social decay and cultural paralysis. It could succeed only so long as the country's resources were still growing, albeit slowly, and the regime's only problem remained how to distribute these resources between, on the one hand, the population with ts growing demand for 'satiety and, on the other, ni'litary-industrial complex with ts growing demand for might'. It failed, however, as soon as the system's resources began to dwindle and the regime was forced to choose whether the interests of the people or the military should come first It was only in trying to resolve this problem, at the end of the 1970s, by which tune the economic and social decline had reached scandalous proprtions, that Soviet politicians, along with Western sovietologists, realized that a
*[Translator's note". Staraia ploshchad' — 'Old Square', where the Central Committee building is located.] change of regime was necessary, a 'revolutionary change', as Gorbachev now calls it.
Once again, as at the turn of the century, Russia is at a crossroads. By destro}\ng the backbone of Stalinist command economy and maximizing the interests of 'satiety', and correspondingly minimizing those of'm ght', the system could pass over into a regime of reform. Judging by Gorbachev's speeches, this s just what he intends for Rus' a. Reformist speeches, however, have been heard countless times before — and not merely speeches. Yet there has never been a Russian reform, over the course of the last 500 years, which has proved to be irreversible. Even the most successful reforms, as we know, either ended in polil cal stagnation, I<e Brezhnev's, or were reversed by a fierce counter-reform, like Stalin's. What evidence is there to suggest that Gorbachev might succeed where all his predecessors have, without exception, failed?
Let's face the fateful question: What if Gorbachev's reforms indeed meet the same fate as Stolypin s? How will the system then manage to justify ;s denial of the interests of 'satiety' other than by inst tuting a 'spiritual and ascetic' dictatorship in the name of the ultimate confrontation with worldw le 'kike-Freemasonry', wf ch is supposedly prepar ig to storm Russia by the year 2000? The weight of historical evidence suggests that, in the event of the collapse of reform, the system would be forced to turn to the Russian Idea simply to surv.ve — because it would have nowhere else to go by the end of the twentieth century. It would have to accept the strategy of Sh nanov and the tactics of Emcl' mov.
Whom to believe?
To most Western experts on Russia, such a proposition is, of course, quite incredible. 'Who are all these "Orthodox patriotic" writers and readers?' they will ask. Even taken together, what do the 'Critical Notes', Solzhenitsyn's cabolerie, Shimanov's strategy and ЕтеГ'-inov's tactics really amount to? Who will follow them in risk ig everything to try to 'Orthodoxize' the empire and the world? Are they not just a bunch of eccentric fanatics who have very little power and influence, anyway? What chance do they really have of changing the course of history, when all the most reliable sources (Western experts' Soviet contacts from important circles close to the Kremlin) offer assurances that things are by no means as bad as they seem?