I have a habit of timing my publications to significant dates. And for this reason, today I’m recalling our brilliant writer Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky. The “round” date I’m referring to is the birth date of his famous “Writer’s Diary.” It happened 150 years ago when in the first January issue of the weekly magazine “Grazhdanin” for the year 1873, published by V. P. Meshchersky, there appeared a section called “Writer’s Diary,” in which Dostoevsky explained his desire to reflect on his own attitude towards current events: “I will speak to myself… in the form of this diary. <…> What to talk about? About everything that strikes me or makes me ponder,” at a time when chaos, lack of convictions, and “points of reference” prevailed in post-reform Russia. The author presented various viewpoints on contemporary events and his own perspective on them. Starting from 1876, the “Writer’s Diary” became an independent publication in which the writer sought answers to pressing questions of Russia’s political, social, and spiritual life. It became an integral complement to his artistic literary work, primarily to his “great Pentateuch” – the novels “Crime and Punishment” (1866), “The Idiot” (1866), “Demons” (1872), “The Adolescent” (1875), “The Brothers Karamazov” (1880). In Russia during the era of Alexander II’s reforms and the country’s transition to the rails of capitalism, chaos, cynicism, lack of convictions, and “points of reference” prevailed. For many at that time, the “Writer’s Diary” became a guiding star, and the publication was in demand even during the writer’s lifetime. Thanks to it, the influence of its author on public opinion noticeably increased. Flipping through the “Writer’s Diary,” I am convinced that it has not lost its relevance for today and helps the reader find guidance in the current era of chaos and turbulence.
One of the recurring themes in the “Writer’s Diary” is capitalism, both in general and in the Russian context. Researchers of Dostoevsky’s works often overlook the anti-capitalist direction of his writings simply because he doesn’t use words like “capitalism,” “capitalist,” or “capitalistic.” At that time, these terms were still rare in Russia and had only recently started to gain traction in Europe.
The first use of the term “capitalism” in its modern sense is often attributed to the French socialist Louis Blanc in 1850. In 1851, another French socialist, Pierre-Joseph Proudhon, used the phrase “fortress of capitalism,” and in 1867, a French dictionary, citing Proudhon, included the word as a neologism meaning “the power of capital or capitalists.” In the English language, according to the Oxford Dictionary, the word “capitalism” first appeared in 1854 in William Makepeace Thackeray’s novel “The Newcomes.”
In the German language, “capitalism” emerged in 1869 when the famous economist Karl Rodbertus used the phrase “capitalism became a social system” in a book on credit. Interestingly, even Karl Marx (1818-1883), the author of “Capital,” who was writing his works around the same time as Dostoevsky, did not use the term “capitalism.”
The introduction of the term into the legal press in Russia began with an article by the populist N. S. Rusanov titled “Manifestations of Capitalism in Russia,” published in issues 1 and 2 of “Russian Wealth” in 1880. In response to this, an article titled “The Development of Capitalism in Russia” by V. P. Vorontsov was published in the ninth issue of “Otechestvennye Zapiski” in 1880. After this, the concept of “capitalism” gained widespread use among populists, socialists, and Marxists and became the subject of political debates. However, this occurred after Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky’s death.
Dostoevsky had many other words at his disposal with which he deeply and expressively described the essence of the revolution that was taking place in Russia during his time. During Dostoevsky’s era, equivalents to the term “capitalism” were phrases like “bourgeois system,” “bourgeois society,” and “bourgeois idea.” These terms began to be used by emerging Russian populists and socialists in the 1860s, and even the “classic” of Marxism himself used such terminology (e.g., “The Communist Manifesto,” 1848).
In the “Writer’s Diary” (1877), Dostoevsky explains what he means by the “bourgeois system” and the “bourgeois idea”: “… it’s materialism, a blind, carnivorous thirst for personal material gain, a thirst for personal accumulation of money by any means – that’s all that is recognized as the highest goal, as rational, as freedom…”. As we can see, he doesn’t limit himself to the typical political and economic definition of capitalism but emphasizes that this system stems from the ideology of materialism, which, in turn, grows out of atheism.
Half a year before his death, in August 1880, Dostoevsky wrote in the “Writer’s Diary”: “Yes, your Europe is on the eve of a general and terrible fall. The anthill that has long been built in it without a church and without Christ (for the church, having muddled its ideal, has long since and everywhere been transformed there into the state), with its morally rotten foundation, having lost everything, everything common and everything absolute, this anthill being built, I say, is shaking. The fourth estate is coming, knocking on the door, and if it is not opened, it will break down the door. It does not want the old ideals; it rejects all the laws that have existed up to now. It will not compromise, it will not be saved by concessions; concessions only kindle it, and it wants everything. There will come something that no one has even thought of. All these parliaments, all the civil theories now professed, all the accumulated wealth, banks, sciences, Jews – all this will collapse in an instant and without a trace, except perhaps the Jews, who will even then find a way to make a profit. All this is “close, at the door.” You will laugh? Blessed are those who laugh. May God grant you a long life; you will see for yourselves. You will be surprised then. You will say to me, laughing: “You really love Europe if you prophesy like this to her.” Am I rejoicing, then? I only have a premonition that the reckoning is at hand. And the final reckoning, the reckoning of accounts, may occur even much sooner than the most powerful imagination could suppose. The symptoms are dreadful. The very position of European states, unnatural from of old, must inevitably lead to everything. And how could it be natural when unnaturalness is the foundation of their being, and it has been accumulating for centuries? One small part of humanity cannot rule over all the rest like a master, and yet that has been the sole purpose of all the civil (long since no longer Christian) institutions of Europe up to now, and now it is absolutely pagan. This unnaturalness and these “unsolvable” political questions (known to everyone, moreover) must inevitably lead to a tremendous, final, partitioning political war, in which all will be involved and which will break out in the present century, perhaps even in the coming decade. What do you think: can society now endure a protracted political war? The manufacturer is timid and fearful, and so is the Jew; all the factories and banks will close down as soon as the war drags on a little or threatens to drag on, and millions of hungry mouths, rejected proletarians, will be thrown out into the street. Do you not hope for the wisdom of political leaders and that they will not start a war? But when could wisdom be expected from them? Do you not hope for the assemblies; will they not give money for war, foreseeing the consequences? But when have assemblies foreseen consequences and refused money to a slightly insistent official?”
What foresight! I don’t know anyone who predicted the First World War with such anticipation, which would become the epicenter of that very Europe that Russian capitalist “reformers” were trying to emulate. Yes, Dostoevsky made a slight error by saying that the war would “break out in the present century, perhaps even in the coming decade.” The divine plan made adjustments to the writer’s prediction. A month after the writer’s death, Alexander III ascended to the Russian throne, rightfully earning the title “Peacemaker.” He not only helped preserve Russia from wars but also, thanks to his policies, managed to delay (rather than prevent) the onset of a pan-European war. Dostoevsky’s prediction only came true 34 years later.
Certainly, Dostoevsky’s exposition of the destructive nature of capitalism (the bourgeois system) is also present in his literary works, extensive correspondence, and public speeches. Here is another prophecy about the cataclysms awaiting prosperous capitalist Europe: “…in Europe, in this Europe where so much wealth has accumulated, the entire civil foundation of all European nations – everything is undermined and perhaps will collapse without a trace tomorrow, and something extraordinarily new, unlike anything before, will take its place. And all the wealth accumulated by Europe will not save it from falling, for ‘in an instant, wealth will disappear.'” (Dostoevsky F.M. Explanatory Word on the Speech About Pushkin. Collected Works in 15 Volumes. Volume 14. St. Petersburg: Nauka, 1995, p. 419). These words are applicable to the events of both the First and Second World Wars. And these words serve as a warning bell for Europe in the 21st century.
Here is the continuation of the writer’s words quoted above: “…must we, too, slavishly copy this European system (which will collapse in Europe tomorrow)? Must we, too, not allow the Russian organism to develop nationally, with its own organic strength, but inevitably impersonally, servilely imitating Europe?” Fyodor Mikhailovich persistently reiterated this thought in his “Writer’s Diary” and numerous letters, emphasizing that slavish imitation of capitalist Europe is dangerous and could lead Russia to the same cataclysms that Europe experienced and will continue to experience.
The “Trojan horse” through which capitalism infiltrated Russia from Europe, according to Fyodor Mikhailovich, was the ideology of liberalism. We believe that this ideology belongs to our time. At least, the name of the ideology emerged in our time. No, words like “liberal,” “liberalism,” “liberalization,” and “liberal” were in use during Dostoevsky’s time, both in official documents, newspapers, and university lectures. Moreover, they were predominantly used in a positive sense. The reforms carried out in the country in the 1860s and 1870s were called “liberal” because they supposedly granted “freedom” to everyone. They started with the “emancipation” of serfs and then aimed to “develop and deepen” the “freedoms” of all citizens. This was in the spirit of the French bourgeois revolution: “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” (liberté, égalité, fraternité). In this context, Dostoevsky wrote in his “Winter Notes on Summer Impressions” (1863): “They proclaimed… liberte, égalité, fraternité. Very good indeed. What is liberte? Freedom. What kind of freedom? Equal freedom for everyone to do whatever they want within the bounds of the law. When can you do whatever you want? When you have a million. Does freedom give everyone a million? No. What is a person without a million? A person without a million is not someone who can do whatever they want, but someone with whom anything can be done.”
For Dostoevsky, the words “liberal” and “liberalism” had a negative connotation. According to the writer, it was the liberals who slavishly imitated the capitalist West and pushed Russia onto the path of bourgeois reforms. However, most Russian liberals didn’t even fully understand what capitalism was. At most, they were capable of repeating certain “dogmas” brought from abroad, such as theories and doctrines of economic liberalism (about the “utility” of capital, competition, banks, the stock market, the “invisible hand” of the free market, and others). According to Dostoevsky, these homegrown liberals acted instinctively, and their entire instinct was built on one hand, on servility towards the West, and on the other hand, on hatred towards Russia. By destroying Russia and its traditional foundations, they, without even realizing it, cleared the ground for capitalism. More precisely, they cleared the ground for those who would bring their capital from the West to finally subjugate and destroy Russia. For example, we read in “Demons” about the servility of liberals towards Europe: “Our Russian liberal is first and foremost a lackey and only looks to see whose boots need cleaning.” And from the same novel, about their pathological hatred for Russia: “They would be terribly unhappy if Russia were suddenly reformed somehow, even if it became incredibly wealthy and happy according to their standards. They would have no one to hate, nothing to spit on, nothing to ridicule! Only the animal, boundless hatred of Russia is ingrained in their psyche…”
Fyodor Dostoevsky found the phrase “Russian liberalism” unbearable; it would be more accurate to call it anti-Russian: “Russian liberalism is not an attack on existing orders but an attack on the very essence of our existence, on the very things themselves, not just on one order, not on Russian orders, but on Russia itself. My liberal has gone so far as to deny Russia itself, that is, he hates and strikes his own mother. Every unhappy and unsuccessful Russian fact excites laughter and almost delight in him. He hates the national customs, Russian history, everything. If there’s any justification for him, it’s that he doesn’t understand what he’s doing, and he mistakes his hatred for Russia for the most fruitful form of liberalism… Some Russian liberals used to take this hatred for Russia as genuine love for the homeland and boasted that they saw better than others what it should consist of; but now they’ve become more candid, and even the words ‘love for the homeland’ are embarrassing to them; they’ve expelled and eliminated the concept as harmful and insignificant. This is an undeniable fact that has never occurred or happened anywhere, at any time, among any people. There can be no liberal anywhere who hates his own homeland. What else can we explain all this with? The same as before—that the Russian liberal is not yet a Russian liberal; nothing more, in my opinion” (from the novel “The Idiot”).
Indeed, how long can we call these haters and destroyers of Russia “Russian liberals”? Unfortunately, the habit persists even today. For example, Anatoly Chubais, whom some Russian media have obediently referred to as a “Russian liberal” for three decades. In the 1990s, he oversaw privatization and cleared the ground for building capitalism. At the same time, he must have understood that this construction would take place on the backs of millions of our fellow citizens. We all remember his “revelation”: “Why are you so concerned about these people? Well, thirty million will die off. They didn’t fit into the market. Don’t think about it—new ones will grow.” It’s not surprising at all that liberals, both from the 19th century and today, evoke genuine fits of rage in Dostoevsky. Here’s Chubais’s confession: “You know, I’ve been rereading Dostoevsky for the last three months. And I feel almost a physical hatred for this man. He’s undoubtedly a genius, but his notion of Russians as a chosen, holy people, his cult of suffering, and the false choice he offers make me want to tear him to pieces.” Here, Chubais doesn’t even appear as a “liberal” but as one of those deranged characters described in Fyodor Mikhailovich’s novel “Demons.”
According to Dostoevsky, homegrown liberals fervently wish to become “Europeans” while inevitably harboring hatred for Russia. In his “Writer’s Diary,” we find the following: “A Russian who has truly become a European cannot help but simultaneously become a natural enemy of Russia.” Liberalism, in Dostoevsky’s view, inevitably begets slavery and despotism. In the “Writer’s Diary,” he writes, “Instead of becoming freer, liberals have tied themselves up with liberalism like ropes. And when it’s time to express a free opinion, they tremble first of all: will it be liberal enough? And sometimes, they throw out such liberalism that even the most dreadful despotism and violence couldn’t come up with.” One could quote Dostoevsky endlessly (from his “Writer’s Diary,” letters, and literary works) on the topics of capitalism (the bourgeois system) and liberalism. Each fragment surprisingly remains relevant and reflects the realities of today. Over a century has passed, yet these words still remind us that liberalism and liberal reforms will make a Russian person “free.” To avoid falling for these deceptions, read Dostoevsky.
Compiled and translated for t.me/EurasianChoice