Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 New Perspectives on Russian-American Relations

New Perspectives on Russian-American Relations includes eighteen articles on Russian-American relations from an international roster of leading historians. Covering topics such as trade, diplomacy, art, war, public opinion, race, culture, and more, the essays show how the two nations related to one another across time from their first interactions as nations in the eighteenth century to now. Instead of being dominated by the narrative of the Cold War, New Perspectives on Russian-American Relations models the exciting new scholarship that covers more than the political and diplomatic worlds of the later twentieth century and provides scholars with a wide array of the newest research in the field.

William Benton Whisenhunt is Professor of History at the College of DuPage, Illinois.

Norman E. Saul is Professor Emeritus of Modern Russian History at the Uni- versity of Kansas.

Contributors: Ada Ackerman, Monica Cognolato, Paul D’Anieri, Lee A. Far- row, Lyubov Ginzburg, Ivan Kurilla, Erich Lippman, Kathleen S. Macfie, Mat- thew Lee Miller, Vladimir V. Noskov, Alexander Yu. Petrov, Norman E. Saul, Susan Smith-Peter, Vladimir V. Sogrin, Pavel Tribunskiy, William Benton Whisenhunt, Sergei I. Zhuk, Victoria I. Zhuravleva

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Routledge Studies in Cultural History

1 The Politics of Information in 8 Making British Culture Early Modern Europe English Readers and the Scottish Edited by Brendan Dooley Enlightenment, 1740–1830 and Sabrina Baron David Allan

2 The Insanity of Place/The Place 9 Empires and Boundaries of Insanity Rethinking Race, Class, and Essays on the History of Psychiatry Gender in Colonial Settings Andrew Scull Edited by Harald Fischer-Tiné and Susanne Gehrmann 3 Film, History, and Cultural Citizenship 10 Tobacco in Russian History Sites of Production and Culture Edited by Tina Mai Chen and From the Seventeenth Century David S. Churchill to the Present Edited by Matthew P. Romaniello 4 Genre and Cinema and Tricia Starks Ireland and Transnationalism Edited by Brian McIlroy 11 History of Islam in German 5 Histories of Postmodernism Thought Edited by Mark Bevir, Jill Hargis, From Leibniz to Nietzsche and Sara Rushing Ian Almond

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 6 Africa after Modernism 12 Israeli-Palestinian Conflict in Transitions in Literature, Media, the Francophone World and Philosophy Edited by Nathalie Michael Janis Debrauwere-Miller

7 Rethinking Race, Politics, and 13 History of Participatory Media Poetics Politics and Publics, 1750–2000 C.L.R. James’ Critique of Edited by Anders Ekström, Solveig Modernity Jülich, Frans Lundgren, and Brett St Louis Per Wisselgren 14 Living in the City 22 Identity, Aesthetics, and Sound Urban Institutions in the Low in the Fin de Siècle Countries, 1200–2010 Redesigning Perception Leo Lucassen and Wim Willems Dariusz Gafijczuk

15 Historical Disasters in Context 23 Disease and Crime Science, Religion, and Politics A History of Social Pathologies Edited by Andrea Janku, Gerrit J. and the New Politics of Health Schenk, and Franz Mauelshagen Edited by Robert Peckham

16 Migration, Ethnicity, and Mental 24 Critical Perspectives on Health Colonialism International Perspectives, Writing the Empire from Below 1840–2010 Edited by Fiona Paisley and Edited by Angela McCarthy and Kirsty Reid Catharine Coleborne 25 Old World Empires 17 Politics of Memory Cultures of Power and Making Slavery Visible in the Governance in Eurasia Public Space Ilhan Niaz Edited by Ana Lucia Araujo 26 The Afterlife of Used Things 18 Neutrality in Twentieth- Recycling in the Long Eighteenth Century Europe Century Intersections of Science, Edited by Ariane Fennetaux, Culture, and Politics after the Amélie Junqua, and Sophie Vasset First World War Edited by Rebecka Lettevall, Geert 27 Holocaust Consciousness in Somsen, and Sven Widmalm Contemporary Britain Andy Pearce 19 Americans Experience Russia Encountering the Enigma, 1917 28 The Invention of Race to the Present Scientific and Popular Edited by Choi Chatterjee and Representations Beth Holmgren Edited by Nicolas Bancel, Thomas David and Dominic Thomas

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 20 A Social History of Disability in the Middle Ages 29 Indigenous Networks Cultural Considerations of Mobility, Connections, and Physical Impairment Exchange Irina Metzler Edited by Jane Carey and Jane Lydon 21 Race, Science, and the Nation Reconstructing the Ancient Past 30 Shadows of the Slave Past in Britain, France, and Germany Memory, Heritage, and Slavery Chris Manias Ana Lucia Araujo 31 Expedition into Empire 36 Case Studies and the Exploratory Journeys and the Dissemination of Knowledge Making of the Modern World Edited by Joy Damousi, Birgit Edited by Martin Thomas Lang, and Katie Sutton

32 Luxury and Gender in 37 Visualizing Jews through the European Towns, 1700–1914 Ages Edited by Deborah Simonton, Literary and Material Marjo Kaartinen, and Anne Representations of Jewishness Montenach and Judaism Edited by Hannah Ewence and 33 Reassessing the Transnational Helen Spurling Turn Scales of Analysis in Anarchist 38 Higher Education and the and Syndicalist Studies Growth of Knowledge Edited by Constance Bantman and A Historical Outline of Aims Bert Altena and Tensions Michael Segre 34 Conciliation on Colonial Frontiers 39 New Perspectives on Russian- Conflict, Performance, and American Relations Commemoration in Australia Edited by William Benton and the Pacific Rim Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul Edited by Kate Darian-Smith and Penelope Edmonds 35 Scotland and the Caribbean, c.1740–1833 Atlantic Archipelagos Michael Morris Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 New Perspectives on Russian-American Relations

Edited by William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 First published 2016 by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 and by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2016 Taylor & Francis The right of the editors to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice : Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data New perspectives on Russian-American relations / edited by William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul. pages cm. — (Routledge studies in cultural history ; 39) Includes bibliographical references and index. 1. United States—Relations—Russia. 2. Russia—Relations—United States. 3. United States—Relations—Soviet Union. 4. Soviet Union—Relations—United States. 5. United States—Relations— Russia (Federation) 6. Russia (Federation)—Relations—United States. I. Whisenhunt, William Benton. II. Saul, Norman E. E183.8.R9N496 2015 327.73047—dc23 2015011918 ISBN: 978-1-138-91623-4 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-68977-7 (ebk)

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Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 To Nikolai Nikolaevich Bolkhovitinov and all of those who strive to support his legacy in the study of Russian-American relations Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 This page intentionally left blank Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Contents

Acknowledgements xii

Introduction 1 WILLIAM BENTON WHISENHUNT AND NORMAN E. SAUL

1 Russia, the United States, and Great Britain on the Pacific Northwest at the End of the Eighteenth and Beginning of the Nineteenth Centuries 6 ALEXANDER YU. PETROV

2 The Russian Federalist Papers: Aleksei Evstaf’ev, the War of 1812, and Russian-American Relations 20 SUSAN SMITH-PETER

3 The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad Enterprise in Russia 36 VLADIMIR V. NOSKOV

4 In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons in the Crimean War, 1853–1856 51 WILLIAM BENTON WHISENHUNT Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 5 Abolition of Serfdom in Russia and American Newspaper and Journal Opinion 64 IVAN KURILLA

6 Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy: A Reexamination of the Perkins Claim 74 LEE A. FARROW x Contents 7 The Establishment of Russian Studies at the University of Chicago 88 PAVEL TRIBUNSKIY

8 The Tsar’s Power Explained to America: Notes from a 1905 Homily 99 MONICA COGNOLATO

9 A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers: Maxim Gorky’s Critique of America via Dostoevsky 112 ERICH LIPPMAN

10 Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” of a Goodwill Initiative: Letters from Russian Soldiers Cared for at the City Hospital of the American Colony in Petrograd, 1914–1918 127 LYUBOV GINZBURG

11 Rethinking Russia in the United States during the First World War: Mr. Sigma’s American Voyage 143 VICTORIA I. ZHURAVLEVA

12 The American YMCA and Russian Politics: Critics and Supporters of Socialism, 1900–1940 161 MATTHEW LEE MILLER

13 Cyril Briggs and The Crusader : Black Engagement with Soviet Russia 178 KATHLEEN S. MACFIE

14 Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 193 ADA ACKERMAN

15 Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR, 1933–1945: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 An Interpretation 212 VLADIMIR V. SOGRIN

16 The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain: The Lacy-Zarubin (Eisenhower-Khrushchev) Agreement of January 1958 229 NORMAN E. SAUL Contents xi 17 “Academic Détente”: Soviet Americanists as Exchange Scholars during the Brezhnev Era 240 SERGEI I. ZHUK

18 The United States, Russia, and Ukraine: End of an Era or Same Old Story? 261 PAUL D’ANIERI

Contributors 277 Index 281

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Acknowledgements

Ben Whisenhunt would like to thank his family for the unending support of his many projects. It is impossible to imagine a project like this coming to completion without the support of my wife, children, and parents. Thanks to Karyin Boulom of College of DuPage for help in assembling the manuscript. I am also very thankful to all of the contributors for their outstanding work. Above all, though, it has been my honor to undertake this work with Norman Saul. Thank you. Norman Saul also extends thanks to the contributors and especially to his coeditor for their excellent cooperation in all stages of the production of this book. They represent excellent scholars in midcareer—except for myself— who are on the leading edge of work in this field. Thanks is also given to the essential support of staff members at the University of Kansas who helped make our efforts rewarding: Bart Redford, assistant director of the Center of Russian, East European, and Eurasian Studies, who facilitated communications and the hosting of two of the contributors from the Russian Federation—Ivan Kurilla and Victoria Zhuravleva—at the university; Jon Giullian, Slavic librarian, who assisted with transliterations and source identifications; and especially Pam LeRow, administrative associate for Digital Media Services of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, who ably provided editorial guidance and the transmission of materials between the editors and the contributors. William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Introduction

William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul

The field of Russian-American relations is an old one in the historical profession. As far back as the nineteenth century, historians in both Russia and the United States were interested in how the two nations related to each other. Much of the historical scholarship about and of the twentieth century was dominated by the Cold War. Historians created a whole field of scholarship that dominated the field in the last half of the twentieth century and beyond. Much of this scholarship focused on diplomacy, atomic policy, spying, and the internal workings of each side’s government in relation to the other. In the twenty-first century, though, the field has been reborn with exciting new scholarship on Russian-American relations that covers more than the political and diplomatic worlds of the later twentieth century. Scholars have now engaged in exciting new research that helps explain new realities in Russian-American relations. This volume is a sampling of some of the newest scholarship in this area and covers a broad swath of time and many different topics. That, in itself, is one of the key strengths of this volume. Articles ranging from the eighteenth to the twenty-first centuries make this a rather complete look at the broad scope of this relationship. In addition, the essays themselves cover war, ideology, art, philanthropy, religion, and so much more. It is these key elements that place this collection on the cutting edge of scholarship. That is, of course, to say nothing of the fact that the scholars in this collection are first rate and help us understand the complicated yet dynamic relationship between these two nations. On first glance, the collection might seem to be a collection of nearly twenty

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 essays without any common theme or central focus. However, upon closer examination, the reader will find that there are many themes that cut across the different essays that connect them together both in time and topic. For example, religion is examined in very different ways in the essays by Cognolato and Miller. One is from the perspective of the Russian Orthodox Church; the other is from the perspective of an American Christian philanthropic group. Trade, diplomacy, and commerce are examined in several essays, including the ones by Petrov, Noskov, Farrow, Whisenhunt, and Sogrin. All of these essays discuss the role of diplomacy, war, and trade in each of their eras, stretching from the late eighteenth century to the end of the nineteenth century. 2 William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul One theme that runs though many of the essays is the idea of studying the other. Essays by Kurilla, Tribunsky, Zhuravleva, Saul, and Zhuk all examine this critical theme. They all ask the question in different eras and in different ways—how do we understand the other? It is valuable question for that time and even for today. Two of the essays also relate to the issue of philanthropy. Miller and Ginzburg analyze their respective topics related to the role of charity in times of terrible turmoil. Two other essays by Lippman and Ackerman tackle the artistic world of the late nineteenth century and literature and Sta- lin’s era with the visual medium. Lastly, the theme of ideology comes into play in several essays, including the ones by Smith-Peter, Macfie, and D’Anieri. In three distinct eras and under vastly different circumstances, differing views of ideology have a tremendous influence on how these two nations have related to one another. The collection leads off with an article by Alexander Petrov that examines the complicated relationship between the new United States, Great Britain, and Russia in the Pacific Northwest. Petrov’s study examines a critical part of the history of Russian America. All three countries laid claim to areas on the North American Pacific coast, mainly for colonization and trade—and in competition for empire. In particular, Petrov analyzes the role of natives in Alaska in this contest and the frequency and importance of ships that visited the area. Long-time Russian resident of America, Aleksei Estaf’ev, wrote of his views of America in the first half of the nineteenth century. Susan Smith-Peter analyzes his contribution to the Federalist debate that engulfed the new republic. Even though the relations were generally friendly at this time, there was a divide on political ideology between the developing republic and the conservative Russian’s political views. This article adds much to our understanding of Russian-American relations at this time. Vladimir Noskov analyzes the American contribution to the project to build a railroad from St. Petersburg to Moscow in the 1840s. While George Wash- ington Whistler served as a consulting engineer, he called on noted inventor Ross Winans of Baltimore to undertake the work. This article analyzes how Winans’ sons, Thomas and William, continued the enterprise through the 1850s and the 1860s, worked with the Russian bureaucracy, defeated competing companies, and eventually completed this first major rail line in Russia before being removed from the scene through Russian charges of overcosts.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 More than thirty American surgeons volunteered to serve on the Russian side during the Crimean War, despite the fact that the United States maintained an official position of neutrality. A few of these surgeons left written records that not only documented their service in the Crimea, but they also tell the story well of Russian-American relations during the tumultuous decade of the 1850s for both countries. Ben Whisenhunt analyzes the surgeons’ travel accounts to reveal that not only were these surgeons looking for surgical experience, they experienced Russia like few Americans had. Public opinion has a tremendous influence on any transnational relationship. Ivan Kurilla analyzes American public opinion in newspapers and Introduction 3 journals on the emancipation of the serfs in Russia and how it influenced the emancipation of the slaves of the South during the American Civil War. He also discusses the concept of the “other” in history. His work provides new evidence into how these two distant and different countries viewed critical events in the other. Lee Farrow addresses a little known, but critical, legal case of something known as the “Perkins Claim.” In 1858, Captain Benjamin Perkins tried to sue the Russian government for broken contracts during the Crimean War in the amount of nearly $400,000. In the end, he settled for $200, and the issue seemed to disappear. However, Farrow illuminates that this claim did not die in the 1850s. Perkins’ widow would reassert the claim during the 1860s, when the United States was purchasing Alaska from Russia. Farrow’s article reveals a story of legal maneuvering, political scandal, and international diplomacy during what proved to be one of the most important moments in Russian- American relations. Russian studies in America was virtually nonexistent during much of the nineteenth century. Pavel Tribunskiy traces the development of Russian Stud- ies as an academic field in the United States with a focus on its course at the University of Chicago. He highlights the importance of University of Chicago president, William Rainey Harper, his son Samuel Harper, and the generosity of the wealthy philanthropist Charles Crane. In 1905, the head of the Russian Orthodox Missionary Diocese in America, Tikhon, delivered a sermon that outlined how different populations in different cultures foster different political systems. Monica Cognolato reveals that the homily noted the inherent difference between a Russian monarch and an American president. Hers is a critical contribution to the understanding of the Russian church’s view of democracy in the early twentieth century and how this impacted Russian-American relations. Famous visitors between the two countries increased in number by the late nineteenth century. Erich Lippman analyzes the visit of Maxim Gorky to the United States in 1906, which proved to be quite scandalous. Lippman, though, offers a different interpretation of this visit, in particular the literary influence it would have on the Russian writer for years to come. The American Colony in St. Petersburg during World War I provided medical care to Russian soldiers during this horrific conflict through an “Ameri-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 can Hospital.” Lyubov Ginzburg analyzes little-known letters from Russian soldiers who praised their treatment by the Americans, even before American entry into the war. This charitable treatment, though, did not end as the war did. Rather, it established relationships between Americans and Russians that lasted for years to come. The First World War opened up many new avenues for connection between Russians and Americans. Victoria Zhuravleva documented the travels and thoughts of Russian conservative political writer, scholar, and intelligence agent Sergei Nikolaevich Syromiatnikov, known as “Mr. Sigma,” and his journey to America. Among his many interests, he wanted to see the establishment 4 William Benton Whisenhunt and Norman E. Saul of Russian studies programs in American universities in order to have better cultural understanding between the two nations. By the end of the nineteenth century, there were many more Americans in Russia and Russians in America. Matthew Miller’s article on the role of the American Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) reveals a story of religion and philanthropy by Americans in Russia that lasted for four decades across one of the most critical eras in Russian history. The YMCA began its work in 1900 with the permission of the royal family and concluded its mission as World War II was in its first years. Miller analyzes the careful work of this religious and philanthropic organization in Russia during both late Impe- rial and Soviet Russia. African-Americans struggled to gain equality and find a sense of identity in the early twentieth century. By the 1920s, there was an explosion in African- American newspaper publications. Cyril Black published his own newspaper, The Crusader. In its pages, the reader will find a developing chronology of how many African-Americans learned more about Soviet Russia and became part of the Black Communist movement in America. Ada Ackerman traces the life and work of Margaret Bourke-White. She was a famous American photographer who had the opportunity to travel to Stalin’s Soviet Union in the 1930s. She took hundreds of photographs and learned much about the Soviet journalistic, photographic, and cinematic worlds. Ackerman also illuminates the role of Bourke-White in the development of Soviet photography in the 1930s and 1940s. Vladimir Sogrin examines the critical role that President Franklin D. Roosevelt played in Russian-American relations. This article discusses how instrumental Roosevelt was for the Soviet Union to receive official diplomatic recognition from the United States (a recognition that had been denied since 1917). Roosevelt also helped build the wartime alliance that was critical for the defeat of Nazi Germany. Lastly, Sogrin argues that Roosevelt’s death in April of 1945 proved a critical moment in the deterioration of Russian- American relations, which ultimately led to the development of the Cold War. From research in manuscripts at the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library in Abilene, Kansas, Norman Saul documents the negotiations conducted between U.S. Special Ambassador William Lacy and outgoing Soviet ambassador Georgy Zarubin that led to a breakthrough in cultural exchanges

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 between the United States and the USSR in 1958 and its expansion to performing groups, exhibitions, and films. Continuing for over fifty years, the program produced a shattering of the Iron Curtain and the beginning of the end of the Cold War. Sergei Zhuk examines the relationship between American and Soviet scholars during the Brezhnev era in his fascinating chapter. Noted Soviet Ameri- canist Nikolai Bolkovitinov and other Soviet scholars were able to visit and conduct research in the United States. This exchange program helped ease international tensions during a difficult time in Russian-American relations. Introduction 5 Most of these Soviet visitors would become leading scholars on the United States in the Soviet Union. Paul D’Anieri concludes this volume with a look at Russian-American relations in the twenty-first century. More recent events like the crisis in Ukraine, the annexation of the Crimea, and the U.S. and Western European role in sanctions against Russia have placed great strain on the relationship between the two countries. Without question, this has left the relationship at a post- Cold War low. These contributions, many originating as conference papers, reveal new insights on the course of Russian-American relations from the eighteenth to the twenty-first centuries. They use new methodologies, find new resources, and reveal the importance of international collaboration in the current work and its importance for the future. Hopefully, this will continue, inspired by this book. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 1 Russia, the United States, and Great Britain on the Pacific Northwest at the End of the Eighteenth and the Beginning of the Nineteenth Centuries

Alexander Yu. Petrov

Certain stages in the history of Russian-American relations, each of which had its ups and downs caused by different factors, require special studies. Espe- cially important is the analysis of the reasons for the improvement or deterioration of these relations in the American Northwest in the early nineteenth century. 1 Researchers study various aspects of Russian-American relations and Rus- sian Alaska when considering the issues raised in the diplomatic relations between Russia and the United States. The purpose of this article is to devote attention to the historical development of the financial and economic activities of the Russian America Company (RAC) in the North Pacific and to show the degree of Russia’s interest in business and diplomatic relations with foreigners, particularly with the representatives of the United States, as well as to understand what led to the prohibition of some of these relations in 1821 and to the conclusion of the 1824–1825 conventions on the delimitation of territories in the Northwest of America. It is not the task in this work to analyze the provisions of these agreements. This problem needs future research. During preparation of monographs on the financial and economic activity of the RAC and about one of its major shareholders, Natalia Shelikhova, the author obtained research materials that were later revisited and used in this article; they became the basis for the preparation of this special paper on the influence of financial and economic interactions of Russians and Americans and on the future Russian heritage in the North Pacific. 2

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 To understand the main trends in the development of Russian-American- British relations in the North Pacific, it is important to explain the main facts about the origins of Russian America that preceded these events. The history of Russian America probably begins in 1725, shortly before the death of Emperor Peter I, who ordered the outfitting of an expedition under the command of Captain Vitus Bering to find “terra incognita” and see “where it joins with America.” Bering did not find the strait separating the two continents on his first expedition, but he did provide cartographers with a more accurate picture of the northeastern extremity of the Eurasian mainland. It was only as a result of the second Bering-Chirikov expedition, from 1741 to 1743, that this Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 7 new “terra incognita” appeared on world maps. It would be known as “Russian America” for many years. In addition to important geographic discoveries, Bering’s expedition brought the skins of the “sea beaver” (sea otter) back to Russia. The sea otter trade soon became the main stimulus for outfitting commercial expeditions that were sent out into the vast reaches of the Pacific. The sea otter’s high- quality fur was a unique commodity that merchants showed only to their most highly valued customers. The price of one sea otter pelt in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was equal to the cost of 50 select sable pelts, 100 of the best red fox skins, or 5,000 squirrel pelts. The risk faced by the Russian sea hunters was very great. A voyage on the stormy ocean could be extremely dangerous. In the case of an unforeseen wintering, the hunters experienced starvation or scurvy and sudden attacks by Native Americans. Even if the hunt itself was successful, a great many unpleasant “surprises” faced the inexperienced sailors, such as ignorance of the channels leading into the port of Okhotsk, that could include the wrecking of their vessels. None of this diminished the hunters’ sense of enterprise, especially with their number growing with each passing year. Their main areas of their activity were the Aleutian Islands and coastal North America, as well as the Commander Islands, south of the Kamchatka peninsula. Among the Russian commercial organizations whose financial and economic operations in the Northwest grew steadily was the Golikov-Shelikhov Company, formed on August 17, 1781. The merchants who founded the company studied the region’s characteristics and based their association not on a single voyage, as had been the custom earlier, but for a period of ten years. During this period, they were to harvest pelts on islands already known and in territories yet to be explored, where they planned to establish hunting camps and perhaps permanent settlements. The company’s founders thus hoped to lower the risk involved in harvesting and marketing the pelts. They displayed a great sense of entrepreneurial initiative; tenacity in achieving the goals they had set for themselves; and an ability to divine the outlook, not just for their own company but for the entire Pacific fur trade, the development of which had a considerable influence on Russians’ attitude to the region. Grigory Shelikhov and his wife Natalia, together with a team of 192 fur

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 hunters and traders, hold the honor of constructing the first permanent Rus- sian settlements on the shores of America in 1784. In the second half of the eighteenth century, Russian pioneering fur hunters and traders (promyshlenniki) met representatives of other nations who were interested in receiving furs. Shelikhov soon obtained the support of the Russian government to send farmers and craftsmen to America; he then proposed a major initiative, which was immediately approved by the Imperial court. In 1794, the first Russian church mission, composed of monks from the Valaam monastery in Northwest Russia, was dispatched to America, where they laid the foundations for spreading the Orthodox faith by conversion of the native population. 3 8 Alexander Yu. Petrov Russia and the United States, in their desire to explore unknown lands, came to Alaska almost at the same time. Severe living conditions and a fight for survival promoted cooperation in their relations based on mutually advantageous trade. Captain James Cook, during his third voyage to the Pacific (1776), was instructed by the British Admiralty to discover whether a northern sea passage existed between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans. Cook sailed up the American coast, past the Alaska Peninsula, and into the Bering Sea. After that, the British, sailing from eastern Asia or from Great Britain itself, were dominant in the region between 1777 and the beginning of the nineteenth century, when this trade began to diminish partly because of the difficulties encountered in the North Pacific by the East India Company. One difficulty arose after the American Declaration of Independence, when representatives of the young nation undertook long voyages from New England around Cape Horn to Alaska. As with the Russian promyshlenniki , American fur hunters were also lured by the fur of the sea otter. The skins of sea otters had a unique value, especially when transported to the Chinese market. Since the Mandarins paid extraordinary sums of money for such pelts, Americans shipped the furs primarily to Chinese Canton, while the Russians preferred (or were forced) to trade on the land border with Russia, at Kiakhta. It was a perfect opportunity for the Americans, who established a triangular trade between New England to Alaska and China. To some extent, it was similar to the great triangle trade in the Atlantic between Africa, the Carib- bean, and British American colonies, with the major difference that there were no slaves involved in it. For a long period, and especially during in the first quarter of the nineteenth century and until the sea otters were much depleted, Alaska was at the forefront of Russian-American commerce. Some historians consider the labor of the Alaskan natives to have been a form of slavery, although there were fundamental differences between slavery in the American South and native labor in Alaska. The overwhelming majority of American ships that travelled to Alaska were from New England, which had a long-lasting tradition of free labor and the development of share-based companies. Those free-labor traditions, the morality of “protestant ethic” in business, were transferred to Alaska and introduced to Russians in Alaska, which influenced the traditions of Rus- sian fur hunting and trade, especially in terms toward the natives. Those com-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 panies acquired considerable experience in maintaining commercial relations in the new territories. The captains of ships who traveled to Alaska to acquire furs were usually skilled seamen, many of whom were from the British Empire. At that particular time, Alaska began to be associated in American minds with “the last frontier, its development becoming one of the fundamental features of American history.” 4 Americans tend to see their expansion westward as a process of free settlement. In contrast, Russians readily use the phrase “the conquest of Siberia” and have in their language no precise equivalent to the word “frontier” as used in American history, with its connotations of openness, freedom, and Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 9 opportunity. Nonetheless, both countries share an experience of continent- wide exploration, settlement, and development that was unrivaled elsewhere in the world. For both countries, much of their identity derives from their frontier experience. 5 The Russian America Company was formed in 1799 as the first Russian monopolistic joint-stock organization in Russia. Even the tsar’s family became shareholders. In the perception of the Russians, the border of their possessions extended far to the south in America, even to California. The directors of the RAC came to an understanding in the early nineteenth century that at least some of the land in California would be part of the Russian possessions. This was related to the activities of the outstanding statesman of that time—the court chamberlain and state councilor of Russia, Nikolai Rezanov. He inspired the first Russian around-the-world voyage between 1803 and 1806. Two Imperial Navy frigates, Nadezhda and Neva , participated in that historical voyage. Rezanov was the leader of the expedition, carrying special orders of Emperor Alexander I. His assistant, Ivan Kruzenshtern, commanded the ships and was responsible for the condition of both the ships and their crews. 6 During this expedition, Rezanov also sailed separately on the Juno (originally from Rhode Island) to the shores of California, where he established friendly relations with the California Spanish authorities in Monterey. The American expedition of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark (1803– 1806) crossed the continent to the Pacific at the same time. The aim of the US expedition was to explore that vast land, having been given the task by President Thomas Jefferson to explore the extent of what the United States had acquired from France by the Louisiana Purchase (1803). Rezanov concluded that the mouth of the Columbia River was unclaimed. He was not aware that an American expedition had spent the winter of 1805–1806 at Fort Clatsop, near present-day Astoria, Oregon, and by the then-prevailing right of first discovery had claimed all the explored territories for the United States. Indeed, already at the time when the Juno had started her voyage south, the American explorers were preparing for their return journey. 7 From that time, the Russian Empire played an important role in North Pacific international relations that were mainly related to aspects of Russian- American-British relations. The directors of the RAC were interested in trading with Americans or, as they called them, “Bostonians” (most North

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 American vessels arrived in the Russian colonies in Alaska from Boston or another American port, such as the Juno under John D’Wolf that came from Bristol, Rhode Island). This mutual commerce developed favorably for both sides from 1801 to 1809, when at least seventeen American ships arrived at Novo-Arkhangel’sk in Alaska. The total cost of the cargo that had been delivered by “Bostonians” from Alaska to China was estimated to be almost half a million dollars. The following furs had been sold: sea otter pelts valued at 189,204 rubles (50–80 rubles per pelt) and 112,647 pelts of seals in the amount of 226,690 rubles, with the average price being two rubles a piece, or one dollar (the ruble was valued at 10 Alexander Yu. Petrov fifty cents). Other types of fur pelts were: otters (241 pelts for eight rubles, 55 kopecks per pelt); red fox (1173 pelts for four rubles, 21 kopecks each); and grey foxes, or “ sivodushki” (456 pelts for seven rubles, 75 kopecks each). From 1797 to 1818, Americans received from the RAC 9,738 sea otter pelts, 15,626 beaver pelts, and 377,642 fur seal pelts—for a total of 3,647,002 rubles. Over- all, nearly 20 percent of all furs that were procured by the RAC were sold to foreigners, with the bulk of them to American shippers. 8 A diplomatic break between Russia and Great Britain by the Tilsit peace agreement (1807) with Napoleon disrupted the St. Petersburg connection with the colonies by sea. One result was that the 22-gun Diana , on an exploration voyage to the Pacific and under the command of Vasilii Golovnin, was stopped by British ships near the South African port of Simonstown. The Rus- sians, forced to spend thirteen months as detainees in May 1809 thanks to a dark night and a following wind from a storm, were able to maneuver through the British fleet into the open sea and continue their voyage to the Pacific. American captain Joseph O’Cain was a man of firsts. He sailed on eight different vessels that touched the Northwest Coast. He was the first non-Spanish citizen to land on the California coast, having been dropped off there by the British vessel Phoenix in 1795. He then sailed to Nootka Sound as second in command of the Spanish vessel Sutil in 1796. Later he became supercargo on the Betsy, the first American ship to enter San Diego Bay, in 1800 and was also supercargo on the vessel Enterprise, the first American ship to trade directly with the Russians, delivering a cargo of provisions to Baranov at Kodiak in 1801. His ship, the O’Cain, was the first ship to take a party of Aleut hunters to California from Alaska to hunt for sea otters in 1804. And on the Eclipse , he took a cargo of Russian furs, for Baranov to Canton, to sell and bring back to the Russian Far East and Alaska, and a cargo of provisions. O’Cain was a good friend of Baranov, who preferred to deal with people he liked and trusted. 9 On October 14, 1808, Baranov wrote to an assistant that he had to remain in Kodiak and was “waiting for Captain O’Cain to come from Sanak, because I am the only one who can resolve the important question of the company’s capital.” A cursory explanation of this letter suggests that Baranov felt that O’Cain owed something to the Company. On the other hand, from O’Cain’s standpoint, he delivered a major part of the Canton cargo to the Russian Far East with a ruble value of 207,000 (about $100,000), and a considerable

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 remainder of the cargo was rescued from the wreck of O’Cain’s Eclipse and transported to Kodiak. In the initial agreement between Baranov and O’Cain, at Sitka, O’Cain was to receive a 50 percent share of profits on the sale of furs and additional amounts per ton for freightage. 10 Until 1808, only private single ships arrived in Russian Alaska from New England. The situation changed when John Jacob Astor founded the Ameri- can Fur Company. Soon Astor decided to handle all commercial relations with Russians by himself so as to be the head of an American company that was analogous to the monopolistic Russian American Company. Astor had good reason to think so. He was already known as an excellent trader in the Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 11 United States and abroad. He had considerable experience in the fur trade and was one of the wealthiest entrepreneurs in America. Russian diplomats there were surely well aware of him. Things had reached the point that the Russian consul general in Philadelphia, Andrei Dashkov, supported Astor and believed that for the best development of commercial relations with the United States, there should be one permanent partner. According to Russian diplomats, the development of such relations could contribute to a mutually beneficial fur trade in Canton. Dashkov and Astor apparently spent a lot of time talking, discussing the prospects of this cooperation. At the very least, Astor specifically purchased for the Russian colonies those goods that had been recommended to him by Dashkov. The sailing vessel Enterprise was chosen with John Ebbets as captain, taking into account his experience in traveling to Russian Alaska. Astor gave detailed instructions to Ebbets. Those instructions clearly stated that the ship should sail to Russian America with Novo-Arkhangel’sk as its destination. All of its cargo was consigned to the Russian America Company. 11 Ebbets was not supposed to sell or exchange the goods on the way with Indians or engage in commercial relations with any nations except Russia. However, he had to bargain with Baranov because his price had not been established. Ebbets already had enough information about the character of Alexander Baranov and how to do business with him. He also knew about Baranov’s passion for good wine. For that purpose, two barrels of good Madeira were brought on the ship for Ebbets to present to Baranov as a gift. The key to this instruction is the following phrase, which largely explains illustrates the nature of the interactions between Russians and Americans in the North Pacific. Astor wrote, “that he (Baranov) will receive the goods not only regularly, but at lower prices, and this will finally scare away all those adventurers who sail from our State to Alaska with an intention to sell half of the cargo to the Russians and half to the natives.” In a his personal letter to Baranov, Astor proposed the same thought, as well as masking a threat that Russians had better deal with him or he could easily trade with the natives directly, which could harm Russian-native trade relations. Astor suggested sending two or three vessels with food and supplies to Novo-Arkhangel’sk and then trans- porting furs from there to Canton on the condition that he would act as the only trusted person on behalf of the Russian American Company. He was also

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ready to participate in other forms of cooperation as well as rent his ships to the Russian America Company. 12 It could be mutually profitable. Astor would have a stable, monopolistic partner and be sure of his profits, and his risks may well be diminished. On the other hand, Russians might achieve their long-awaited access in the Canton market. The Russian plenipotentiary to the United States, Dashkov, also sent a letter to Baranov. In this letter, he proclaimed himself the correspondent for both Astor and the Russian American Company. One can see the analogies with Rezanov (1764–1807), who served as the correspondent for the RAC. He also thought of advancing Russian-American commercial relations in 12 Alexander Yu. Petrov general by doing so. Dashkov explained in his letter how the situation could be developed. He thought that it would be much better to deal with one reliable partner rather than with many unreliable ones and that Russia and the United States might compete for jurisdiction over the territory at the mouth of Columbia River. 13 The Enterprise, under the command of John Ebbets, contained goods for the Russian colonies in Alaska and arrived at Novo-Arkhangel’sk in June 1810. After negotiations, Astor received about 27,000 piasters. The main cargo was exchanged for about 15,000 pelts. The Americans had an advantage that the Russians envied. The Chinese prohibited Russian trade through Can- ton because the Chinese wanted to confine that trade at the border post of Kiakhta, which was situated on the border between Russia and China. There- fore, it was advantageous for the Russians to try to use American ships to carry furs to the Chinese market by sea. The first Boston ship sailed from Alaska to Canton with a cargo worth 65,000 piasters. In Canton, furs were traded for tea, manufactured goods, silks, and cotton fabric. The total profit was almost 137,000 US dollars. The Enterprise returned to Boston via Cape Horn, having earned more than three times its original investment. 14 At about this time at the mouth of Columbia River, Astoria was founded. In May 1812, the American Fur Company and the Russian American Company signed a contract that was to set the boundaries of commercial operations to the North and South of 55° north latitude. Very soon, Alexander Baranov suggested that the profits from such a cooperative venture was not as large big as expected and that the Russian America Company could lose money by relying just on Astor. Baranov suggested that the RAC should diversify its cooperation with foreign partners and use the old, well-established route from Irkutsk to Kiakhta to trade with China. 15 Astor appeared disappointed with his trade with the Russians. He thought that Baranov wanted to sell the furs at higher prices and buy goods at lower ones than previously agreed. Also, Astor realized that sailing to Alaska from Boston was very costly and risky. This is why a permanent agreement between Baranov and Astor was postponed. Baranov provided his motives, noting that he had to have official papers from the headquarters of the company in St. Petersburg, which in turn should be approved by higher Russian authorities. He also suggested that he had limited knowledge of prices for certain goods in

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Boston and voiced concern about international relations in Europe and that Russian involvement in them might affect mutual commerce. The Russian government soon denied Astor’s requests to deal with a free hand and any exemption from paying duties on imports into Russia. 16 The Anglo-American War of 1812 damaged business contacts between the Russian American Company and the United States traders. In spite of the efforts of Dashkov and Astor, direct voyages of American vessels to Russian possessions practically ceased, and the conditions of the agreement of 1812 essentially remained unfulfilled. It is true that, in September 1813, Dashkov sent word from New York about the departure of the Enterprise , under the Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 13 Russian flag, with a cargo of goods for the Russian colonies in America, but it has not been possible to uncover any details of this expedition. At the same time, Astor’s company lost several ships (one was shipwrecked near the Sand- wich Islands, another destroyed by natives in the Bay of Nootka), and after the arrival of the British warship Raccoon in November 1813, the British took possession of Fort Astoria, renaming it Fort George. 17 There was still an opportunity for trade between Astor and the Russians in Kamchatka, where the Americans were interested in obtaining Russian sables. American captains offered Baranov various supplies and even traded their vessels for Russian goods. With one of these captains, W. Davis, Baranov concluded an agreement for a journey to the Philippines in 1814. It is interesting to note that the Philippines were considered a goal for Russian trade previously, and Natalia Shelikhova wrote about that possibility in 1798. The headquarters of the RAC in St. Petersburg hoped to solve the problem of supplying the colonies with various goods by sending round-the-world expeditions. The directors had good prospects for this because, in 1808, Baranov sent the expedition of Ivan Kuskov to erect a fortress and organize a trading base in a convenient place south of Oregon. Following this directive, he managed to erected Fort Ross and a settlement north of San Francisco Bay in 1812. It soon became a base for hunting sea otters and for raising foodstuffs. The fort became the most southern settlement of the Russian American Company. Eventually, Russian California also included Port Rumiantsev on Bodega Bay, several farms, and a hunting party outpost on the Farallon Islands near the Golden Gate. Finally, from 1815 to 1817, the Russians pushed as far south as the Hawaiian Islands, where several enterprises were established with half- hearted company support. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Figure 1.1 Fort Ross. Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division, HABS CAL, 49-FORO, 1–5. 14 Alexander Yu. Petrov Such expansion was reflected in Russian-America’s population, which became more numerous, more widespread, and more diverse. In 1819 in Rus- sian America, there were 391 Russians (378 males and 13 females), 244 Cre- oles (133 males and 111 females), and 8,385 natives (4,063 males and 4,322 females). Fort Ross, indirectly recognized by the Russian authorities in St. Petersburg as a Russian territory, was never recognized by Spanish authorities. It was accepted by the native Pomo, who actually sold its land to the Russians. The fort became quite profitable but, due to the lack of accurate reports by Petr Kostromitinov and especially Alexander Rotchev to the governors of Alaska and St. Petersburg in 1839, was officially considered unprofitable and in 1841 was sold to John Sutter. Relations with the American representatives, however, were quite contradictory. On one hand, they supplied the Russian colonies with all necessary goods, but on the other, they traded weapons with the natives who paid very good prices in furs for them. The American captain John D’Wolf informed George Langsdorff that there were so many weapons in the North Pacific that it was possible to buy the best English rifles cheaper there than in Britain itself. 18 The RAC was much displeased by the activity of Wilson Hunt, Astor’s attorney, who came up with “most cunning and base harassments” in the course of joint trading ventures with Baranov in 1812. After Fort Astoria passed to the English, Hunt arrived at Sitka on the ship Peddler in 1814 “with unknown intentions.” The purpose of his visit, in the opinion of the RAC, was to conduct “smuggling trade with the islanders.” “Like his fellow countrymen,” Hunt engaged in selling firearms to the natives, which led in 1816 to open conflict with Baranov. From the RAC headquarters’ viewpoint, “harmful competition” also took place as the result of Baranov’s payment in fur, especially sealskins, for American goods. Learning about this loss, the company instructed Baranov to limit “joint ventures” with foreigners and save the sealskins for sale to the Chinese in Kiakhta. Americans were buying furs from the natives, sometimes without the RAC’s involvement, which was not legitimate because the RAC had a monopoly on fur trading with those natives under Russian jurisdiction. Although to justify the deeds of the American citizens, it should be noted that the official border between Russia, Great Britain, and the United States was established only between 1824 and 1825. In order to stop such commerce, the directors of the RAC considered three variants. The first

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 one was simply to prevent the citizens from the United States from coming to Alaska; the second was to prevent the natives from selling furs to anyone but Russians; and the third was more complicated but seemed more effective than the other two: to construct relations in such a way that it would be more profitable to deal only with the RAC, which could buy everything on a wholesale basis, even ships. This decision was very complicated; even the chief manager of the Russian colonies, who knew the situation on the ground much better than anyone else, could hardly make up his mind. So the directors of the RAC decided to take steps on a diplomatic level. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs attempted to Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 15 find a solution to the situation by sending a special letter to the Department of State. The reply from Washington was polite but negative in its context. The idea was that the president of the United States could not stop his citizens from trading in Alaska with the natives. 19 In 1818, Alexander Baranov was replaced by a naval officer, Leontii Hage- meister (Ludwig Karl August von Hagemeister), who in turn was succeeded by Semen Ianovskii. The main position in the Russian-American colonies—the chief manager’s position—from then on was to be occupied by officers from the Russian Navy. They paid close attention to the relations with the United States. Ianovskii, for example, was very interested in American tobacco. Semen Murav’ev became the chief manager of the Russian colonies in 1821. He would serve in the colonies for five years according to the contract. Mate- rials from the colonial archive help us to understand the tasks that had to be undertaken by Murav’ev. One of his major goals, assigned to him by company directors, was to investigate the interior of Alaska and to establish better contacts with the natives. He was supposed to understand the scope of the territory he had to defend from foreign competition and reported that the number of vessels arriving from the United States were increasing. One of the directors of the RAC, at the main meeting of the shareholders, expressed his deep concern about American activity in the waters of the Russian colonies. Soon afterward, the directors sent a dispatch to Minister of Foreign Affairs Nesselrode, dated April 26, 1817. In this dispatch, the directors urged him to take all necessary steps possible to limit visits of foreign ships to the Russian-American territories. 20 Many Russians, especially naval officers, also expressed their concern about the British. For example, Captain Otto von Kotzebue of the brig Riurik wrote that the English had intentions on the lands and areas close to the Bering Strait and wanted to occupy them. The situation, as seen in St. Petersburg, sometimes differed from reality. The main reason was that it took months, sometimes even a year, for correspondence to arrive in St. Petersburg from the colonies. In reality, the chief manager of the RAC had only one chance a year to report what was happening in the North Pacific. The navigation season was short, and there was a shortage of ships. Usually, the correspondence was sent with the fur cargo from Novo-Arkhangel’sk to Okhotsk and then to St. Peters- burg by land. Sometimes the chief managers sent their letters and correspon-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 dence around the globe or with the American ship captains to be sent from the Atlantic to Europe. The delivery time in those cases was even longer. So, directors of the company were supposed to make a decision on the situation in the colonies that was a year old. Their reply would come during the next navigation season. For example, an 1817 decision was made based on 1815 information about a report of an American ship’s contact with the natives. Between 1817 and 1820, there were discussions between the Naval Ministry and the Ministry of Finance concerning both the positive and negative aspects of such trade with indigenous peoples. There was a somewhat belated decision, which is traced in the following. The first charter of the RAC expired 16 Alexander Yu. Petrov in 1820. Minister of Finance D. A. Guriev and Siberian Governor-General M.M. Speransky took part in examining its provisions. They discussed the issue of how to protect the Russian colonies from foreign interference and about the financial and economic damage that such trade with the natives cost the Russian America Company. 21 Guriev thought that something major should be done to stop foreigners from trading in the Russian colonies, for the benefit of the RAC. He proposed sending two military ships annually to the North Pacific to prevent them from trading weapons with the natives, but there still remained a question of how all the necessities—food and sundries—would get to the colonies. It had been proposed to send everything around the world by Russian ships. It would be important to increase trade with foreigners in Kamchatka but avoid doing so in the colonies. The chief manager was advised to do everything possible to increase trade relations with Asian countries, especially China. Guriev’s thinking was based on information provided by Natalia Shelikhova at the end of the eighteenth century. She considered it to be vital to establish regular support of the colonies by all means possible but to be cautious in dealing with foreigners. Since the RAC was formed as a private enterprise under the protection of his imperial majesty, its primarily motivation was trade and economic profit. The Russian Orthodox Church, through its missionaries, helped pacify hostile relations between the Russians and the natives. The Church had limited instructions concerning the relations with foreigners and citizens of the United States. After the dismissal of Baranov, the imperial faction dominated the company, and this sector was represented especially by Russian naval officers such as Vasilii Golovnin, who thought that the Russians should possess all of the territory in the North Pacific. Golovnin saw only the negative side of relations with the American ships and believed that up to 15 vessels per year visited Alaska. They traded powder and guns with the natives, who later used those weapons against Russians, and Golovnin wanted to establish military control in Alaska to prohibit Americans from trading in the North Pacific. Obviously, his was one of the most listened-to voices, and Russia decided to take all measures possible to limit the access of foreigners to the waters of the North Pacific. 22 Speransky also thought that trade with the United States was much less

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 profitable than with China and that increasing trade with the United States might lead to diminishing the trade with China. So the positions of Speran- sky, Guriev, and Golovnin, on the major terms, were similar and synonymous with those of the directors of the RAC. All these considerations formed the basis of a new document developed in the first half of 1821. On Sep- tember 4, 1821, Alexander I signed a decree that regulated shipping in the North Pacific. That decree prohibited any foreign ship anchoring at or even approaching the shores of the Russian colonies at any distance closer than 100 Italian miles (119 English miles). The document consisted of 63 articles included a detailed commentary about how the colonial authorities should act Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 17 in case of a violation of those rules. Those who violated such rules would pay a fine that fluctuated from five to 500 piasters, or up to 2,500 rubles ($1,300). 23 Alexander I also signed a new charter of the RAC on the 13 (25)th of Sep- tember 1821. It regulated the status of the company and approved the monopoly of the company on exploring and overseeing the territories in the North Pacific. The charter allowed the RAC to oversee the territories down to 51° north latitude. The Russian America Company was also freed from all taxes on imports and exports of goods on the provision that they be delivered on Russian round-the- world ships. All local authorities were to support the RAC. Relations with the natives were also regulated. As soon as those decrees were signed and publicized, authorities in Europe and the United States immediately contacted St. Peters- burg. They expressed concerns about the situation because neither the RAC nor the Russian government had informed them in advance about these measures. Two countries expressed the most concern: Great Britain and the United States. Britain defended the interests of the Hudson’s Bay Company and was interested in supporting its land boundaries, while the United States was concerned about its marine trade. The chief manager of the Russian America Company, Matvei Muraviev, reported to St. Petersburg that the prohibition of trade with foreigners, especially with the United States, had a negative effect on the colonial economy. American ships sailed to the mouth of the Colum- bia River and traded with the natives. Finally, between 1824 and 1825, special agreements were settled on boundaries between the United States, Great Britain, and Russia in the region, and the prohibition of trade with foreigners in the Russian colonies was nullified. Russian expansion in the Pacific was limited southward to 54°40 minutes. 24 Concluding and discussing the Russian-American-British agreement had taken much effort. On one hand, there was a profitable trade, but on the other hand, commercial relations of the American ships with the natives harmed those relations. The Russian America Company’s complaints became more frequent concerning the commercial activities of foreign competitors in the Russian possessions—especially of the Bostonians trading firearms with the local populations. The positions of the chief managers and of the headquarters of the RAC were different. Some of the captains preferred to deal with the RAC and others to avoid such dealings. Up to two dozen vessels from the United States, particularly from Boston, visited the Alaskan coast each

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 year from the beginning of the nineteenth century until 1818. Russia, Great Britain, and the United States benefitted from the arrangement. The profit gained by them was so huge that it could only be matched in proportion by gas and oil income in the twentieth century.

Notes 1. Alexander Iu. Petrov, Metropolitan Kliment, M. G. Malakhov, A. N. Ermolaev, I. V. Savel’ev, Istoriia i Nasledie Russkoi Ameriki ( The History and Legacy of Russian America ) , Vestnik Rossiiskoi Akademii Nauk (Herald of the Russian Academy of Sci- ences) 81, 7 (2011): 614–22. 18 Alexander Yu. Petrov 2. Alexander Iu. Petrov, Nataliia Shelikhova u istokov Russkoi Russkoi Ameriki (Natalia Shelikhova at the Origins of Russian America) (Moscow: Ves’ Mir, 2012), 164–80; Petrov, Rossiisko-amerikanskaia kompaniia na otechestvennom i zarubeshnom rynkakh (1799–1867) (Russian-American Company: Activity in the Home and Foreign Mar- kets (1799–1867) (Moscow: Institute of World History, Russian Academy of Sci- ences [RAN], 2006). 3. IRA Vol. 1, 109–153; Dawn Lea Black, Alexander Iu. Petrov, Natalia Shelikhova: Russian Oligarch of Alaska Commerce (Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 2010), 7–19. 4. W. Webb, The Frontier and the 400 Years Boom: The Turner Thesis Concerning the Role of the Frontier in American History (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1972), 131; Eric Foner, Give me Liberty!: An American History (New York: Hill and Wang, 2002). 5. http://frontiers.loc.gov/intldl/mtfhtml/mfovrvw.html 6. Istoriia Russkoi Ameriki (1732–1867) [hereafter IRA], (History of Russian America) , 3 vols., 2: 88–94. 7. Basil Dmytryshyn, Poseshchenie San-Franiscko russkim sudnom “Iunona” 28 Marta- 10 Maia (The Visit to San Francisco of the Russian Ship Juno, March 28–May 10, 1806), trans. A Iu Petrov, Amerikanskii Ezhegodnik 2006 (Moscow: Nauka, 2008), 154–78. 8. Isledovaniia russkikh na Tikhom okeane v XVIII-pervoi polovine XIX v.: Sbornik Doku- mentov [hereafter IRTO], 5 vols. (Moscow: Nauka, 1984–2010) 2: 312; A Trading List of the Russian American Company, January 1, 1808, Archive of the Foreign Policy of Russian Empire (AVPRI), fond. RAC, op. 888, d. 183, l. For methods of calculations and details, see: James Gibson, Otter Skins, Boston Ships, and China Goods. The Maritime Fur trade of the Northwest Coast, 1785–1841 (Seattle: Univer- sity of Washington Press, 1992). 9. Elton Engstrom, Joseph O’Cain: Adventurer on the Northwest Coast (Juneau: Alaska Litho Printers, 2003), 4–5. 10. Ibid., 5. 11. John Jacob Astor (1763–1848), fur trader, was born July 17, 1763, in Waldorf, near Heidelberg, Germany. He went to London at the age of 16 and engaged with an older brother in the manufacture and sale of musical instruments. In 1783, he immigrated to America and in the following year entered the fur business. Astor’s early operations were centered at Montreal then spread to the enormous area acquired through the American Louisiana Purchase. He prospered and quickly saw the advantage of extending his operations to the Pacific Coast. Astor urged acquisition by the United States of the entire coast from the Spanish. With government approval, although not active support, he went ahead with his own considerable means to establish posts on the Pacific Coast. The hub of his enterprise was to be at the mouth of the Columbia River. Annual vessels would bring supplies and export furs to China, where they would be exchanged for tea. For details, see Richard Pierce, Russian America: A Biographical Dictionary (Kingston, Ontario: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The Limestone Press, 1990), 12; Norman Saul, Distant Friends: The United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1991). 12. Letters from John Jacob Astor to Captain John Ebbets, The United States and Russia: The Beginning of Relations, 1765–1815 (Washington, DC: Department of State, 1980), 601–03 and Letter from John Jacob Astor to Aleksandr A. Baranov, The United States and Russia: The Beginning of Relations, 1765–1815 (Washington, DC: Department of State, 1980), 603–04. 13. For details on Dashkov’s mission to America, see N. N. Bolkhovitinov, The Begin- nings of Russian-American Relations (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1975), 197–203, 223–24. Russia, the United States, and Great Britain 19 14. IRA 2: 174–75. 15. Letter of Astor to Alexander Baranov, October 10, 1811, The United States and Russia , 793–94; Petrov, Rossiisko-amerikanskaia kompaniia, 75–91. 16. Letters of Astor to Thomas Jefferson, March 14, 1812, The United States and Rus- sia , 512–13. 17. The fort had been sold to the Canadian Northwest Company; Bolkhovitinov, 271–73. 18. IRTO 2: 343; K. T. Klebnikov, Zhizneopisanie Aleksandra Andreevicha Baranov (St. Petersburg, 1835), 153; James Gibson, Imperial Russia in Frontier America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1976), xxvi, 11–12; Alexander Iu. Petrov et al., “O prodazhe russkoi kolonii Fort Ross v Kalifornii,” Voprosi istorii (2013): 1, 13–17; G. H. von Lowenstern, Remarks and Observations on a Voyage around the World from 1803 to 1807, trans. Victoria Joan Moessner (Fairbanks: University of Alaska Press, 2003), 2–74. 19. Letters of John Astor to Alexander Baranov, 1811, United States and Russia, 793–94. 20. L. A. Hagemister to S. I. Yakovsky, June 17, 1818, IRTO 4: 40–41; Russian American Company to K. V. Nessel’rode, April 26, 1817, Russian State Historical Archive (RGIA), f. 994, op, 2, d. 831, l., 2ob-3. 21. Sudovoi zhurnal Briga Riurik , August 10, 1816, IRTO 4: 22; Bolkhovitinov, Russko- amerikanskie otnosheniia, 1815–1832 (Moscow: Nauka, 1975), 162–81; IRA 2: 303–38. 22. G. D. Gur’ev to I. I. Traverse, January 9, 1820, Russian State Navy Archives, Saint Petersburg (RGAVMF), f. 166, op. 1, d. 665, l 1ob-3; Memorial k prochnomy voss- tanovleniiu amerikanskoi kompanii, N. A. Shelikhovoi, April 9, 1820, AVPRI, f. RAK, op. 888, d. 127, l., 1–34. 23. P. A. Tikhmenev, Istoricheskoe obosprenie obrazivabuua Rosiisko-amerikanskoi kompanii i deistvii ee do nastoiashchego vremeni (St. Petersburg: 2 vols., 1861–63), 1, 27–40; “Kratkii balans kapitala Rossiisko-amerikanskoi kompanii, sostavlennyi v Glavnom pravlenii iz general’nogo balanc na 1 ianvaria 1838 g.,” RGIA, f. 994, op. 2, d. 862, l. 5–7. 24. Vneshniaia politika Rossii (Moscow: Nauka, 1974), 9: 378–87; IRA 2: 303–38, 397–441; Tikhmenev 1: 1–9; IRTO 3: 17–22. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 2 The Russian Federalist Papers Aleksei Evstaf’ev, the War of 1812, and Russian-American Relations

Susan Smith-Peter

The year 1812 was a momentous one for Russia and America. Russia beat back Napoleon’s invasion, and the United States went to war with Great Britain. These parallel military conflicts led both to closer and more difficult relations between Russia and America. The Federalist Party, which had its base of power in the more industrialized Northeast, had been against going to war with Britain, but the Republican Party, whose stronghold was in the agrarian South, had begun the war. The Federalists found that praising Russia’s victories over Napoleon was a relatively safe way to criticize the Republican administration’s aggression against Britain. Britain, after all, could only benefit from the defeat of Napoleon by their ally, Russia. This chapter seeks to use this moment as a window into the question of how American party politics influenced perceptions of Russia and how such politics have shaped Russians’ views of America. More specifically, it traces the connections between the Federalist Party and the life and ideas of Aleksei Evstaf’ev, a Russian consul to Boston and later New York during the first half of the nineteenth century. Heralded by Anthony Cross as the first Russian to publish widely in English, 1 Evstaf’ev was a conservative thinker whose ideas echoed those held by the Federalists. These ideas included a great love of Great Britain, a belief in the need for a strong central authority, a complex attitude toward republics, and a skeptical attitude toward equality and radical revolutions. And yet, even these similar ideas masked differences between the two; over time, Evstaf’ev became a harsh critic of America. This dynamic of initial closeness and subsequent disillusionment has unfolded more than once

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 in Russian-American relations. Historians have long dealt with the early diplomatic relations between Rus- sia and America. 2 Others have explored the cultural relations between the two. 3 A few works have focused solely on Evstaf’ev. 4 Others have discussed him in the context of the War of 1812. 5 It is worth noticing that most of these works characterize Russian-American relations as friendly. This case study deepens our understanding of this period, as it shows both friendly relations and sources of ideological tension. Sometimes, that friendliness itself could lead to later disillusionment. As of yet, however, no one has compared the ideas of Evstaf’ev and the Federalist Party. The use of Evstaf’ev’s unpublished The Russian Federalist Papers 21 manuscript from 1852, “The Great Republic Tested by the Touch of Truth,” in the New York Public Library helps to provide a much deeper understanding of his political beliefs over the course of his life. 6 Comparing this manuscript with The Federalist Papers helps us to understand both the similarities and the differences between monarchist and democratic principles of government. Consisting of nine chapters, “The Great Republic Tested by the Touch of Truth” provides a comparison of Russia, America, and Great Britain. Russia and America are shown as the extremes of autocracy and democracy, while Britain holds what for Evstaf’ev is the happy medium of constitutional monarchy. 7 A great believer in monarchy and aristocracy, Evstaf’ev felt that Britain’s government greatly benefited from the union of these forces of legitimacy, tradition, and innovation when needed. Implied within the work is a critique of Russian aristocracy for its lack of leadership in politics and the economy. Much of the work consists of a critique of the politics and society of the United States, focusing on such topics as the rule of the majority as a legalized mob, the fallibility of juries, and the political party system as a source of social tension. At first glance, it seems a wholesale rejection of the entire American project; however, a closer look suggests that it takes part in the long American tradition of political critique as an argument that present conditions fall short of the vision of the Founding Fathers. However, political discourse rarely admits that there were two profoundly different visions held by the Founding Fathers. Thomas Jefferson and others saw an agrarian America characterized by small, homogenous communities, whereas Alexander Hamilton and others felt a commercial society marked by diversity and thriving trade with the world community was the future of America. Hamilton, with James Madison and John Jay, was an author of The Federalist Papers, which are widely held to be the greatest American contribution to political thought. Often compared to Aristotle and Montesquieu, the papers emerged out of a debate in postrevolutionary America. While the first ten years after the conclusion of the American Revolution had been characterized by the “politics of liberty,” which saw the rise of new, less educated men to the state assemblies and their subsequent passing of laws to decrease the power of the elites and forgive debts, the Constitution of 1787 was a rejection of this state of affairs. In place of the loosely connected states of the Articles of Confederation, the Constitution established a strong executive in the form

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of the president and increased the power of the federal government over the state legislatures. Those who had benefited from the “politics of liberty,” particularly those in the state legislatures, attacked the Constitution virulently, and The Federalist Papers were addressed to the New York delegation and, implicitly, others who would have to ratify the Constitution. Comparing this summation of Federalist political belief with the work of Evstaf’ev helps to suggest the deeper connections and disconnections between the two. First we need to get a deeper sense of Evstaf’ev’s background and then turn to a history of the Federalist Party, which provided him with a temporary ideological home. 22 Susan Smith-Peter Evstaf’ev’s Life Born in 1783, Evstaf’ev’s ancestors were Don Cossacks, but he was a member of the clerical estate. 8 He studied at the Kharkov Ecclesiastical Seminar; in 1798, he was sent to London as a churchman (tserkovnik ) for services in the church for the Russian ambassador. The category of churchman included various clerical positions, usually filled by seminary students. 9 While in London, he sang in the choir and began a lifelong love of England and the English language. While in England, Evstaf’ev began to make a name for himself as a man of letters. He was part of a wider group within the Russian consulate in London that particularly admired the works of Lomonosov and Sumarokov; in 1807, Evstaf’ev published in The Literary Panorama , an English translation of an article about Lomonosov that excised a section on the dislike between those two authors. 10 In addition, he translated Karamzin’s essay on books and reading in Russia, also for the same journal. 11 Evstaf’ev’s writing never lost the aspiration toward the sublime, modeled on Sumarokov’s work, which strikes the modern reader as somewhat forced. Also in 1807, he published his first separate work, a pamphlet titled “Advantages of Russia in the Present Con- test with France,” but it was his A Key to the Recent Conduct of the Emperor of Russia, published in 1808, that explained Alexander’s treaty with Napo- leon at Tilsit in the most favorable light, which provided him entry into a diplomatic career. As Anthony Cross has noted, “Instances of ‘Russo-French’ authors are not uncommon in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, but Evstaf’ev is probably the first example of a ‘Russo-English’ author.” 12 In 1805, Evstaf’ev married Sarah, who we know to be an Englishwoman due to a letter Evstaf’ev wrote her from Paris, dated February 29, 1808. 13 We learn from the letter that he had unexpectedly been called to the Russian ambassador’s residence in Paris and was not sure where he would be posted next. He felt that it was possible that she would have to join him in Russia. He wrote:

A messenger is going now to St. Petersburg, and the Embassadeur writes once more concerning my destiny and my translation of Playfair, which, it seems, has also been buried in oblivion; and I shall remain at Paris no longer than the return of post from Russia, which will be in a month at furthest. This short month will decide my fate; and you shall see me in London in less than six weeks, or hear that I am gone to Russia. 14 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

He expected that Sarah would soon join him, writing “I shall embrace you with transport, for I can not live without you, indeed I can not. I have not felt, till now, how much your presence is connected with my happiness; and I have experienced, at length, that to fully appreciate our felicity we must part with it.” 15 He referred to their common acquaintances in England and hoped that they would all be together again. Instead, the rest of Evstaf’ev’s life was to be connected to the United States of America. Still a new country, America was not yet a major player on the The Russian Federalist Papers 23 world scene, and Russian-American relations in the nineteenth century have been well characterized by Norman Saul as those of distant friends. 16 Key to the acceptance of the first American consul to Russia in 1803 was the personal relationship between Alexander I and Thomas Jefferson, sparked by the tsar’s interest in constitutions early in his reign. 17 In 1808, Andrei Dashkov and Evstaf’ev received instructions to set off for America. 18 Evstaf’ev was the bearer of a letter, dated October 3, 1808, from the American ambassador to Russia at St. Petersburg, Levett Harris, to the American consul at London, suggesting he had indeed gone to Russia and then to London to prepare for his transfer to America. 19 Once installed in Boston, Evstaf’ev became an active member of that town’s vibrant social life. Although he complained repeatedly that his salary was not enough to allow him to support his family, he was able to stage his five-act tragedy, Mazepa, Hetman of the Ukraine, in March 1811, which only played for a few nights. 20 In 1812, he published Reflections, Notes, and Original Anecdotes, illustrating the Character of Peter the Great, to which is added a tragedy in five act entitled “Alexis, the Czarewitz.” The history and play presented Peter as an ideal monarch, similar to his earlier portrait of Alexan- der I, and showed Peter as having to rise above his selfish love of his son in order to serve the greater good. 21 In 1812, Evstaf’ev became especially active in Boston society. In particular, he was closely associated with the Federalist Party, whose power base was in New England and whose conservative views coincided with many of Evstaf’ev’s. The Federalists were unsupportive of the War of 1812, which pitted America against New England’s main trading partner, Great Britain. Thus, the Federalists were very pleased to receive reports of Russian victories over Napoleon, Britain’s enemy. In contrast, the Republican Party felt that Russia was aiding America’s enemy, Britain, and also denied that the Russians were indeed capable of defeating Napoleon. In 1812, Evstaf’ev published Resources of Russia in the Event of a War with France , in which he argued that Russia’s population (47 million) and resources, such as mines and weapon manufacto- ries, were sufficient to defeat Napoleon. 22

The Federalist Party The Federalists were extremely welcoming of the new Russian diplomats, con- 23

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ducting what amounted to a charm campaign. The Federalists emerged as a party soon after the creation of the American government in 1789. Although George Washington technically was not a member, he did sympathize with it. The main leader and driving force behind the Federalists was Alexander Ham- ilton, who pushed through an ambitious plan to have the federal government pay off the states’ Revolutionary War debts and create a national bank. Under Hamilton, the Federalists stood for a strong central government and leader and a willingness to keep order internally, by force if necessary, as was the case during the Whiskey Rebellion. In addition, they were for good relations with Britain and suspicious at best of France. 24 24 Susan Smith-Peter With Napoleon’s rise to power in France, Europe was torn by a series of wars involving French expansion and Napoleon’s attempt to conquer most of Europe. His main opponent throughout was Great Britain. The British entered into a series of alliances with various powers in order to combat Napoleon, whose ambitions threatened British dominance and the British Empire. The British also impressed American sailors into the British navy and took other acts that the Republicans in particular felt were hostile to American interests. As a result, on June 18, 1812, the United States declared war on Britain. The Federalists were dead set against the war from the start, given their pro-British orientation and distrust of France. This brought them even closer to the Rus- sian diplomats, who felt that the Republicans were hostile to Russia, since it was now allied with Britain. One of the most striking examples of the rapport between the Federalists and Evstaf’ev took place on March 25, 1813, when nearly all the prominent Federalists of Massachusetts gathered together to celebrate the Russian victories, rejoice in the fall of Napoleon, and criticize the policies of the Republi- can administration. 25 While the administration had been blinded or seduced by France into “virtually co-operating in her schemes of Universal Domina- tion,” Russia “was the only remaining nation on the continent of Europe, on whom the hopes of the friends of civil liberty could repose.” 26 Thus, France appeared as the false ally and Russia as the true friend of freedom and liberty. A speech by prominent Federalist Harrison Gray Otis was followed by a series of illuminated transparencies, beginning with an image of Alexander I in full uniform, with the inscription beneath: “Well, I will arm me, being thus forewarn’d/They shall have wars, and pay for their presumption.” This line from Shakespeare’s King Henry VI, Part III follows directly after the quote, also from Henry VI, “Ha! Durst the traitor breathe out so proud words?” This suggests that the administration, or, at the very least, Napoleon, was a traitor to the lawful monarch. Evstaf’ev’s own speech emphasized similar themes of the legitimacy of Rus- sian power and the illegitimacy of France’s. According to Evstaf’ev, Alexander I “dwells on the memory of your Washington” and like him, and like Peter the Great, “aspires only to be the father of his country.” While “conquests were made from time to time,” they were always “dictated by necessity” rather than self-aggrandizement. Thus, Alexander I was not a danger to other countries,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 unlike France, which Evstaf’ev compared to a dangerous torrent destroying all in its path. Russia, in contrast, was “an extensive plain” whose wide river was only dangerous during storms but otherwise “spreads happiness and abundance through the regions its passes.” 27 Overall, his message to the Federalists was simple: Russia defeated France but posed no danger to other states because Russian was not revolutionary and did not seek to overturn the order of things. Evstaf’ev also gave a toast after his speech: “The Capital of Massachusetts— The first to resist aggression, and the last to remember an injury. May it ever in politics and morals be the leading star of America.” 28 This was a not- too-hidden suggestion that the Federalist-dominated city of Boston should The Russian Federalist Papers 25 become the leading political light in America. While his speech as a whole had avoided criticism of the Madison administration, others certainly had not. The toast aligned Evstaf’ev with the Federalists in a way that President Madison found offensive. In a letter dated April (14) 26, 1813 to John Quincy Adams, the then American ambassador to Russia, Madison’s Secretary of State James Monroe, complained of Evstaf’ev’s conduct, particularly as it came at a moment when Alexander I had offered to mediate between the United States and Great Britain. Monroe decried:

[T]he very improper conduct of the Russian Consul there, who placed himself in connection with the avowed opponents of the government in the attitude of direct variance with it. By his toast, in which he applauded in strong terms the conduct of those persons, he censured in terms equally strong the conduct of this government. I need not suggest to you the glaring impropriety of such conduct in the agent of a foreign power, whose duty it is to show respect to the government receiving and protecting him.29

Evstaf’ev, in an earlier letter to Russian Ambassador Andrei Dashkov, which was then sent to Monroe, had stated that he meant the toast as a compliment to his hosts and that:

No offense, therefore, and no disrespect were or could have been intended towards the general government by my allusion to the politics and morals of Boston, when such politics and morals are only mentioned in connection with their past character, and qualified with a wish that they may always be correct, in other words, that they may be such as they formerly were . 30

Evstaf’ev thus restated his position rather than recanted. He refused to apolo- gize and indeed asserted that Boston, and thus the Federalist Party, was and had been correct. This could have been the end of his political career, but Nikolai Kozlov, in a letter to Minister of Foreign Affairs Nikolai Rumiantsev, dated (April 19) May 1, 1813, argued that the Republicans seized upon the pretext of the toast as an excuse because they had already been irritated by articles written by

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Evstaf’ev that tore apart the “ridiculous and insulting” claims made by Repub- lican newspapers. Because the articles were unsigned, “many others have been attributed to him without the least evidence.” These articles, Kozlov said, were the real reason for the party’s exasperation with Evstaf’ev, although they used the toast, in which “he indiscreetly wished for the success of the Federalist party,” as a pretext. Kozlov himself was clearly irritated with the Republicans and sympathized with the Federalist views of Evstaf’ev, writing that:

Mr. Evstaf’ev is considered a Federalist here; but just as it is impossible to show that he has taken part in American affairs, they are not subject to 26 Susan Smith-Peter the inquiry of the American Government, which does not have the least right to force either a foreign consul or one of its own citizens to change his mind. On the contrary, we have many reasons to complain about the insolence of the editors of American newspapers, which frequently are full of calumnies concerning Russia and her government. 31

Similarly, Russian ambassador to the United States, Andrei Dashkov, wrote to Rumiantsev from Washington DC on June 19/July 1, 1813, stating that while Evstaf’ev’s toast was “a little pretentious to be true,” the real reason the Repub- licans complained was that “they decided to revenge themselves upon our Consul for want of the means to revenge themselves upon the Federalists.” 32 Dashkov prevailed upon Monroe to not officially complain about Evstaf’ev by withdrawing a possible complaint of his own against Republican journalist William Duane. “I learned of it by chance,” Dashkov wrote of the threatened complaint, “and it was to appease me with regard to an indecent publication against Russia made by an adjutant-general of the United States who is also the editor of a gazette (Duane), that they desisted from this step.” 33 Duane’s Republican newspaper, the Philadelphia Aurora , had published many intensely anti-Russian articles, including one that argued Russia would soon be defeated “and will undergo partition .” 34 The newspaper that carried the news of the celebration of Russian victories, The Weekly Messenger, had publicly battled with Duane many times, arguing that the Russian Army was indeed capable of defeating Napoleon. 35 Thus, the toast was part of a larger partisan struggle that Evstaf’ev took part in by publishing unsigned articles against Republican criticisms of Russia. Evstaf’ev was never happier than in the midst of a stiff fight. However, it was his fate to outlive by decades the party with which he had so identified. In 1815, the Federalists gathered at the Hartford Convention. Although they did not actually vote to have New England secede from the Union, the slander stuck and the party self-destructed. 36 Having lost his audience, Evstaf’ev still continued to attempt to publish widely in Boston periodicals but was so mocked that he fell silent. 37 In 1828, he joined the consulate in New York, but in 1835, due to his unauthorized decision to become an American citizen, he was fired. 38 His decision to become an American citizen is surprising given his harsh criticism of the country in “The Great Republic” but perhaps can be explained by the fact

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 that his children became American and in time his son became a prominent citizen of Buffalo, New York. Evstaf’ev published a booklet on homeopathy in 1837 and a revised edition in 1846. 39 An account from the Homeopathic Medi- cal Society of the County of New York suggests that, after 1835, Evstaf’ev may have primarily occupied himself with homeopathy: “His official position, which was honorable, did not fully occupy his time, so he was a frequent attendant at the dispensary and took much interest in the cases treated.” 40 He died in 1857 and was buried in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. 41 However, in 1852 he wrote a manuscript, “The Great Republic Tested by the Touch of Truth,” that was never published. In it, he criticizes Alexis The Russian Federalist Papers 27 de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America and the concept of democracy more broadly, comparing it unfavorably with Britain’s constitutional monarchy, which he felt was the ideal governmental system, and with the autocracy of Russia, which he praised only sparingly. Despite his many harsh words for America, certain persistent similarities with the long-gone Federalist Party are present. Both the Federalists and Evstaf’ev had a great deal of love and admiration for Great Britain. Alexander Hamilton gave a six-hour speech to the Constitutional Convention of 1787 in which he argued that, “the British government was the best in the world.” He believed that the president and Senate ought to serve for life and that there was no need for elected state governments. Instead, governors would be appointed. 42 He also described the Senate as consciously based upon the House of Lords and felt that it would provide cool heads capable of sustained reflection, in contrast to the passions of the common man expressed by the House of Representatives. 43 Overall, the Federalists felt that too much of the British inheritance had been scrapped by the “politics of liberty” that had prevailed in the years after peace had been concluded with Britain. 44 In place of the raw, new men, often uneducated and of the debtor class, that filled the state legislatures, the Federalists wished to encourage a natural aristocracy. 45 This analogue to the English aristocracy would, however, be based on merit. Similarly, in Federalist No. 4, John Jay argued in favor of one unified federal government rather than several confederacies partly by referring to the weakness of Great Britain if it were divided:

What would the militia of Britain be if the English militia obeyed the government of England, if the Scotch militia obeyed the government of Scotland, and if the Welsh militia obeyed the government of Wales! Sup- pose an invasion: would those three governments (if they agreed at all) be able, with all their respective forces, to operate against the enemy so effectually as the single government of Great Britain would? 46

In fact, throughout The Federalist Papers , Britain was used as a positive example upon which to mold the future of America. For example, Madison wrote in Federalist No. 56 that the “experience of Great Britain . . . present to man-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 kind so many political lessons, both of the monitory and exemplary kind, and . . . has been frequently consulted in the course of these inquiries.” 47 Evstaf’ev takes a more extreme position by arguing that Britain was the source of America’s greatness and that the rest of the world would do better to go directly to the source rather than to what he saw as a less-successful imitation. At the outset of “The Great Republic,” he writes:

It has been long with me a maxim, that the three familiar elements of the glorious British Constitution, said to have been first revealed in the Lycurgus-Spartan Code present the integer of Governmental Power the 28 Susan Smith-Peter Despotic , limited and popular, as imaged forth in Russia , England, and the transatlantic new Republic of the United States. England, the happy medium between the two, is indisputably superior to both. 48

Similarly, he states that America:

[I]s decked out in a most attractive guise by the Utopian Tocquevilles of the day, whom the least semblance of their beau ideal cheats into false estimates, and sends to the Far West for pearls and gems, which, genuine withal, are at their elbow in old England. No wonder, they on their return, themselves deceived, pass on their countrymen the half-fledged rooster for a bird of paradise, or the sorry Jackdaw tricked in borrowed plumes, for a majestic Eagle! 49

However, like Tocqueville, Evstaf’ev criticized American government for the power of the majority, which Tocqueville warned could manifest as a tyranny of the majority. Evstaf’ev rejected “the prevailing notion that the federal American, like that of England, is a government of checks and balances; whereas it simply is Government of majority, making laws, passing by them, or unmaking them, just as it suits its interest or pleasure.” 50 Thus, without the cool and reflective voices of an aristocracy, America had fallen into the grasp of the hotheads against which the Federalists themselves had warned. Evstaf’ev stated that:

The constitution of the United States is confessedly on the English model, the President replacing the King, the Senate the House of Lords and the house of representatives the house of commons. At the first glance the one, with a mere change of names, appears a faithful copy of the other; yet upon a nearer view it will be found that “the rose” does not always “smell as sweet under another name,” and that the change of names in the present instance is a substantial change from obsolete fixtures to constantly advancing improvements, according to the ever-boasting Americans, and from positive good to positive evil , according to my own deduction. Both superstructures are apparently supported by the same number of columns and there again rest on the same foundation; but all identity is limited to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the popular branch of representatives and commons . All else is a deliberate, and, I must say, presumptuous deviation, worse and worse as it goes farther from those conservative elements which are so indispensable to the enduring strength of governments, and some of which, at least, are quite compatible with the required condition of republics. Commenc- ing at the summit, how striking is the contrast between this “picture and that”? The king, always a king, is crowned by right of birth, trained from the cradle to his high estate, and qualified for the fulfillment of his destiny by all the means that wealth and Power can command of Princely The Russian Federalist Papers 29 education. His throne is fixed aloft above the reach of competition, indi- visible, intangible, and permanent. 51

Here Evstaf’ev parts ways with the Federalists. Perhaps he once believed that the Federalists could transmute the British governmental system to something of value, but his experience, he says, has taught him otherwise:

In the early days of this famed Republic, the auspicious days of all republics, talent, honesty and education were, no doubt, essential requisites in the election of her Presidents, but of these days there soon will be left nothing but the memory, although, considering the age of nations in comparison with that of individuals she has not yet got to her teens. Some such event as the Mexican War may possibly present her with a Taylor or Scott, but it will only be a short reprieve from the eventual enthronement of the Dynasty, that breeds no gentlemen, considers the being so a disqualification in itself for any office, stigmatizes them as “the silk-stocking gentry,” and admits them to no favor, save upon the pledge that they will barter their old sterling plate for the base coin of the new democratic mint and ungentlemanize themselves so as to deem it a great honor to be feasted publicly by a fraternity of non-convicted thieves and half acquitted felons. 52

One of the most deeply held beliefs on both sides was the need for a strong central authority. Alexander Hamilton, at the Constitutional Convention in 1787, stated that:

As to the Executive, it seemed to be admitted that no good one could be established on Republican principles. Was not this giving up the merits of the question: for can there be a good government without a good Executive. The English model was the only one good one on this subject. The Hereditary interest of the King was so interwoven with that of the Nation, and his personal emoluments so great, that he was placed above the danger of being corrupted from abroad—and at the same time was both sufficiently independent and sufficiently controuled [sic], to answer the purpose of the institution at home. 53 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Similarly, in “The Great Republic,” Evstaf’ev noted:

By the simple but happy fiction that “the King can do no wrong” he is kept at an immeasurable distance from all party conflicts, and can only be the Ruler, never Partisan if even so inclined. Hence social order, peace and harmony are never marred by those discordant elements which are ever at work in all elective governments His person is sacred, inviolate. He is the splendid abstract of his nation, the Unit wherein her prosperity, 30 Susan Smith-Peter refinement, grandeur, dignity, and ornamental parts of character are all concentered, and all faithfully reflected. 54

There is a somewhat parallel movement in both texts from a doubtful stance toward republics to a reliance on confederated republics as the most stable form. In Federalist No. 9, Alexander Hamilton wrote:

It is impossible to read the history of the petty republics of Greece and Italy without feeling sensations of horror and disgust at the distractions with which they were continually agitated, and at the rapid succession of revolutions by which they were kept in a state of perpetual vibration between the extremes of tyranny and anarchy. 55

The Federalists were absolutely against radical republicanism, which overturned the power of the elites and attacked tradition. However, they felt that a confederated republic would temper the excesses of smaller societies and states by allowing for a more refined government at the federal level that could referee between the states and calm the excitability of factions. As Madison noted in Federalist No. 10, “A rage for paper money, for an abolition of debts, for an equal division of property, or for any other improper or wicked project, will be less apt to pervade the whole body of the Union than a particular member of it.” 56 At first, Evstaf’ev argued that republics could not be long lasting because they went against nature. He asked:

Now, who has ever heard of Nature building up Republics? Echo says Who? —and there the question rests. Who, on the contrary, has ever heard of one of her communities without a chief assigned to it and armed by her with corresponding powers? . . . Her animated kingdom of birds, insects, quadrupeds, and all gregarious creatures, man apart, is spread over the Earth; yet nowhere do we see a bevy of self-constituted sovereigns, each individual pretending to be one, endowed with the ability to rule themselves at their own will and pleasure, independent of some special chief-presiding Power. 57

This radical Republicanism was a danger to the continuation of the United

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 States, although in other places he seems to suggest that a republic with a properly constituted elite might be able to survive. He wrote, “a Republic, so expanded must needs fail , as it has always failed, because it dreams that man is made for government , not government for man, and rests itself on his perfect- ibility, not as he is , but as he ought to be, a fatal error!” 58 The key phrase here is “so expanded,” as it suggests that the danger came from sharing too much power with too many people. However, the Federalists themselves had held a similarly pessimistic view of human nature, with Madison famously writing that “What is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels no government would be necessary.” 59 The Russian Federalist Papers 31 Evstaf’ev drew upon Russian history, specifically Karamzin’s version, to claim that republics were doomed to failure, writing:

It is not fault of mine that they remember to forget that Russians, the supposed bayonet-driven slaves had a republic of their own, and were familiar with its gifts much earlier than any other people in the East and North of Europe. Their truly celebrated “great Novgorod” whose motto was “Against God and great Novgorod Who ”? was a giant republic, volun- tarily and by unanimous consent, relinquished and exchanged for monarchy, in consequence of its unwieldiness. 60

In “The Great Republic,” Evstaf’ev wrote of the United States:

Theirs is indeed a genuine republic, the true popular Self-Government, such as was always aimed at, but never before accomplished. It is the first deserving of the name, and for this very cause, the last that, should it fail, will have been tried. Such, it appears, were the impression of Gen- eral Washington himself, according to the testimony of two aids who were his favorites and intimates of his family. Both these distinguished officers (generals) had assured me that the “Father of his Country” had no faith in the stability of a republic, and rather thought that he would serve his country better by accepting than refusing the supreme Authority; but as, on one hand, his motives would be misunderstood, and placed to the account of personal ambition; and, on the other, the characteristics of Americans offered the best materials to build upon, he owed it to the world at large to aid in the experiment decisive of the merits and whole question with respect to governments republican in form and practice. 61

It is telling that Evstaf’ev makes George Washington his source of authority, as it suggests some of Evstaf’ev’s own conflicted feelings about the matter. Washington, although technically nonpartisan, was known as a Federalist. This section is the most hopeful in the manuscript about the chances of success for the United States and can be read as an expression of Evstaf’ev’s continuing sense of loyalty to the Federalists. Similarly, he wrote, “In the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 early days of this famed Republic, the auspicious days of all republics, talent, honesty and education were, no doubt, essential requisites in the election of her Presidents, but of these days there soon will be left nothing but the memory.” 62 However, Evstaf’ev did admit that the Constitution had created a confederated republic that had shown itself to be more stable than he had expected:

The framers of the Constitution of the States were certainly no ordinary men. Fully aware of its want of the intermediate support, they did their utmost to supply it. Aristocracy, in any shape and guise, which, aided by 32 Susan Smith-Peter slave-ownership might have been molded into something of the kind, being forbidden a priori , they bethought themselves of a continuous massive colonnade, which, as a pledge of lateral security, is certainly a novel feature in the various forms, devised as yet of social many-headed structure. Under the imposing name of confederation it forms a chain of States, and thus imparts to the Republic what has never yet been realized—the power and capacity of long duration and unlimited extension. Neverthe- less, it is inadequate, in serious cases, to fill up the void left by the absence of the heart. 63

Both the Federalists and Evstaf’ev questioned the need for complete equality and favored the elite. Alexander Hamilton was particularly in favor of an aristocracy formed not so much by birth but through a meritocracy. He felt that he himself was an excellent example of the possibilities for such an aristocracy, as he had risen from a comparatively lowly status to a high position in government. As one scholar of the Federalists has noted, Hamilton believed in the “need for a social hierarchy.” 64 In Federalist No. 35, Hamilton wrote:

The idea of an actual representation of all classes of the people by persons of each class is altogether visionary. . . . [T]he representative body . . . will be composed of landholders, merchants, and men of the learned professions. But where is the danger that the interests and feelings of the different classes of citizens will not be understood or attended to by these three descriptions of men? . . . [I]s the man whose situation leads to extensive inquiry and information less likely to be a competent judge of their nature, extent, and foundation than one whose observation does not travel beyond the circle of his neighbors and acquaintances? 65

Evstaf’ev went further than Hamilton, attacking the idea of equality head on, writing:

There never was a graver falsehood, more solemnly uttered, than what is contained in the words “Men are created equal!” Equal in what? Health, strength and beauty? Every face and form we meet proclaim the contrary. In intellect? Between the mind removed but one degree from idiocy, and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 that of a Newton, there is as much difference, if not more, as there is between man and monkey race collectively. In the condition and circumstances of life? The constant outcry of the poor against the rich is a sufficient negative. It will not do for Fourierism to argue that all this is owing to the bad and vitiated state of the existing Social System; for, if a colony of penniless adventurers be planted on a desert island, the land divided equally between them, and each furnished with the same facility of cultivation, in less than a year after, some of them will be found poor, some rich, and some one Master of the rest! 66 The Russian Federalist Papers 33 For Evstaf’ev, hierarchy was part of nature and therefore could not be avoided:

Nature and Nature’s God never intended to create “men equal” and by so serious a mistake, remove all necessity for mutual assistance and supply of wants, break the mysterious tie that binds and holds society together. Equality here contemplated, is at war with Socialism itself, which is at once its type and Phantom. There certainly is an equality quite practi- cable and most beneficial, but it has no connection with the birth of man. It is that law—equality in the administration of both criminal and civil justice, which is found in England, and there only, the United States having no more of it than any other nation they are in the habit of reproach- ing on that score. 67

Evstaf’ev feared that a lack of hierarchy would have an atomizing effect, resulting in the lack of ties between individuals and potentially leading to the destruction of society itself. In conclusion, comparing “The Great Republic Tested by the Touch of Truth” with The Federalist Papers suggests that while at first glance “The Great Republic” seems to be a complete rejection of America, a closer analysis suggests that it reflects a gradual and bitter disillusionment with the possibility of America evolving in a direction more like that of Great Britain. Evstaf’ev’s views on this most closely parallel those of Alexander Hamilton. Evstaf’ev was a man condemned to long outlive the party with which he had been identified and to see America turning away from the ideals he and the Federalists had shared. Those friendly relations so often noted in the literature turned to an angry rejection over time, although those earlier hopes were still visible.

Notes 1. A. G. Cross, “By the Banks of the Thames”: Russians in Eighteenth-Century Britain (Newtonville, MA, 1980), 56. See also Anthony Cross, “Russkoe posol’stvo v Lon- done i znakomstvo anglichan s russkoi literatury v nachale XIX v,” in Sravnitel’noe izuchenie literatur: Sbornik statei k 80-letiiu akademika M.P. Alekseeva (Leningrad, 1976), 99–107. 2. N. N. Bolkhovitinov, Stanovlenie russko-amerikanskikh otnoshenii, 1775–1815 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 (Moscow, 1966); F. A. Golder, “The Russian Offer of Mediation in the War of 1812,” Political Science Quarterly 31 (September 1916): 360–391; Norman E. Saul, Distant Friends: The United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1991); Daniel L. Schlafly, “The First Russian Diplomat in Amer- ica: Andrei Dashkov on the New Republic,” Historian 60 (Fall 1997): 39–57; N. Suchugova, Diplomaticheskaia missiia Dzhona Kuinsi Adamsa v Rossii v 1809–1814 godakh: Russko-amerikanskie politicheskie i kul’turnye sviazi nachala XIX veka (Mos- cow, 2007); William Benton Whisenhunt, “The Beginnings of Russian-American Diplomatic Relations,” in A Russian Paints America: The Travels of Pavel P. Svin’in, 1811–1813 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2008), 12–23. 34 Susan Smith-Peter 3. Pavel Svin’in, A Russian Paints America: The Travels of Pavel P. Svin’in, 1811– 1813, ed. Marina Swoboda and William Benton Whisenhunt (Montreal: McGill- Queen’s University Press, 2008); Norman Saul and Richard McKinzie, eds., Russian-American Dialogue on Cultural Relations, 1776–1914 (Columbia, MO: University of Missouri Press, 1997). 4. V. N. Ponomarev, “Polveka za okeanom: Rossiiskii diplomat i literator Aleksei Evstaf’ev” Amerikanskii ezhegodnik 1990 (Moscow, 1991): 191–205; Leo Wiener, “The First Russian Consul at Boston,” The Russian Review 1 (April 1916): 131–140. 5. Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, The Beginnings of Russian-American Relations, 1775– 1815 (Cambridge, MA, 1975), 334–348; William Nagengast, “Moscow, the Stal- ingrad of 1812: American Reaction toward Napoleon’s Retreat from Russia,” Russian Review 8, no. 4 (October 1949): 302–312; A. N. Nikoliukin, Literaturnye sviazi Rossii i SShA: stanovlemie literaturnykh kontaktov (Moscow, 1981), 118–134. 6. The manuscript has been briefly mentioned in: Walther Kirchner, Studies in Russian-American Commerce, 1820–1860 (Leiden: Brill, 1975), 27; Ponomarev, “Polveka za okeanom,” 195. 7. “The Great Republic Tested by the Touch of Truth,” A. G. Yevstafiev Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, The New York Public Library. 8. Ponomarev, “Polveka za okeanom,” 191. 9. Ibid., 191. 10. Cross, “Russkoe posol’stvo v Londone,” 99–107. 11. Ibid. 12. Cross, “By the Banks of the Thames ,” 56. 13. Ponomarev, “Polveka,” 195, fn 25; Letter from Aleksei Evstaf’ev to his wife Sarah, February 29, 1808, A.G. Yevstafiev Papers, Manuscripts and Archives Division, New York Public Library. 14. Ibid. 15. Ibid. 16. Saul, Distant Friends. 17. Whisenhunt, “The Beginnings,” 18. 18. Nina Bashkina et al., eds. The United States and Russia: The Beginnings of Relations, 1765–1815 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1980), 523–526. 19. Ibid., 542. 20. Ponomarev, “Polveka,” 194; Wiener, “The First Russian Consul at Boston,” 134. 21. Wiener, 134–135. 22. Alexis Eustaphieve, Resources of Russia in the Event of a War with France, with a Short Description of the Cozaks (Boston, 1812). There was also a second edition published in Boston in 1813 to which was added a sketch of the campaign in Rus- sia. A third edition was published in London in 1813. See Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, The Beginnings of Russian-American Relations, 1775–1815 (Cambridge, MA: Har- vard University Press, 1975), 461, fn. 28. 23. Bashkina, The United States . 24. James M. Banner, Jr., To the Hartford Convention: The Federalists and the Origins of Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Party Politics in Massachusetts, 1789–1815 (New York: Knopf, 1970). 25. Nagengast, “Moscow, the Stalingrad,” 304–306; Bolkhovitinov, The Beginnings , 343. 26. The Weekly Messenger , April 2, 1813, p. 1. 27. The Weekly Register (Baltimore), April 10, 1813, p. 91. 28. Bashkina, The United States , 954. 29. Ibid., 958. 30. Ibid., 953. 31. Ibid., 962. 32. Ibid., 980. 33. Ibid., 980. The Russian Federalist Papers 35 34. Bolkhovitinov, The Beginnings , 340. 35. Ibid., 340. 36. Banner, To the Hartford. 37. Wiener, “First Russian,” 138–139. 38. Ponomarev, “Polveka,” 195. 39. Wiener, “First Russian,” 140. 40. B. F. Joslin, “Inaugural Address,” The North American Journal of Homeopathy 23 (May 1875): 431. 41. I would like to thank my student Amanda Holbert from History 401, a seminar class that has worked on Evstaf’ev for several years now. Amanda discovered that Evstaf’ev’s grave was in Green-Wood Cemetery. 42. Quoted in Issac Kramnick, “Editor’s Introduction,” in James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay, The Federalist Papers (New York, 1987), 35. 43. Ibid., 50. 44. Ibid., 48. 45. Ibid., 62. 46. James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and John Jay, The Federalist Papers (New York, 1987), 99. 47. Madison, Federalist Papers , 342. 48. “The Great Republic,” 2. 49. Ibid., 10. 50. Ibid., 15. 51. Ibid., 39–40. 52. Ibid., 43–44. Evstaf’ev’s footnote: Van Buren, aristocrat to the very bone, was thus the willing guest at the notorious Empire Club, whose members most of them were of this character. It is an undeniable notorious fact that this foul nest of bipeds, for the sum of 40,000 dollars not only offered to get Clay elected, but, as demonstrated in the sequel would have actually done it had his friends been as unscrupulous and politic, as their opponents, in acceding to the bargain! Verily, there can be no purity in any elements controlled from such a source! 53. Alexander Hamilton, Writings , ed. Joanne B. Freeman (New York: Library of America, 2001), 157–8. 54. “The Great Republic,” 15. 55. Madison, The Federalist Papers , 118. 56. Ibid., 128. 57. “The Great Republic,” 69. 58. Ibid., 77. 59. Quoted in Kramnick, “Editor’s Introduction,” 53. 60. “The Great Republic,” 113. 61. Ibid., 17. 62. Ibid., 43. 63. Ibid., 68. 64. Michael P. Federici, The Political Philosophy of Alexander Hamilton (Baltimore: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Johns Hopkins University Press, 2012), 54. 65. Madison, The Federalist Papers , 234–235. 66. “The Great Republic,” 58. 67. “The Great Republic,” 58–59. 3 The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad Enterprise in Russia

Vladimir V. Noskov

Prelude This epic story began in the early 1840s with the Russian railroad mission to the United States headed by military engineers Pavel Mel’nikov and Nikolai Kraft. After their report to Emperor Nicholas I, a decision was made in Febru- ary 1842 to build a railroad to connect St. Petersburg and Moscow. On Mel- nikov’s recommendation, a prominent American railroad surveyor, George Washington Whistler, was invited to act as consulting engineer on the building of this great railway, which was to connect the imperial city on the Baltic with the ancient capital of the tsars. 1 In turn, Whistler asked Ross Winans of Baltimore, a famous American inventor and builder of railroad machinery, to take charge of a mechanical works in Russia. Shortly before, Winans had invented a new model locomotive with a “friction-wheel” that reached St. Petersburg, was approved by Russian experts, and made his name known in Russia. 2 But instead of going himself, Winans sent to St. Petersburg his two sons, Thomas DeKay (b. 1820) and William Louis Winans (b. 1823), who arrived in Russia in 1843. Mel’nikov also recommended that Joseph Harrison, of Eastwick & Har- rison of Philadelphia, should undertake the construction of the rolling stock. In competitive bidding with a Belgian firm, Joseph Harrison, in association with his Philadelphian partner, Andrew M. Eastwick, and Thomas D. Winans secured a contract with the Russian government to supply the new railroad with locomotives and cars for three million dollars. 3 William L. Winans began his Russian career as an employee in the company of which his elder brother Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 was a partner. At first he was a “joiner” and was called simply Vas’ka (a short form of the Russian name Vasilii for William). 4 The American company had at their disposal the state-owned plant at Alexandrovskoe , a few miles up the Neva from St. Petersburg. 5 The firm of Harrison, Winans, and Eastwick, once established at St. Petersburg, commenced “their business in the straightforward manner they had pursued at home.” 6 “Every thing here was on the grand- est scale, and the work was conducted under the most perfect system.” 7 Other orders, reaching nearly two million dollars, were added later to the original amount. This included the completion of the large cast-iron bridge The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 37 over the Neva, “the largest and most costly structure of the kind in the world.” For this another year was added to the term of the contract. 8 It was the first continuous bridge across the Neva, finished in 1850. The railroad opened for business on November 13, 1851 (Western calendar). After the death of Nich- olas I in 1855, both the road and bridge were named in his honor. Upon the completion of the railroad, brothers Winans and Joseph Harrison bought out Andrew Eastwick, formed a new partnership, and—on September 6, 1850— concluded a lucrative contract for maintaining in running order and future construction of the rolling stock for the St. Petersburg-Moscow Railroad. 9 That same year, Thomas Winans returned to Baltimore with his French- Russian bride, and Joseph Harrison went back to Philadelphia two years later. From 1852, William L. Winans was chief manager of the firm’s Russian operations and the main figure in all dealings with the Imperial Government. A British lawyer said of him: “Mr. Winans was a person of considerable ability and of singular tenacity of purpose, self-centered, and strangely uncommuni- cative. He was not interested in many things, but whatever he did he did, as his son says, thoroughly. He became completely absorbed in a scheme when he took it up.” In short, William L. Winans was a type of person “who kept himself to himself and had little or no intercourse with his fellow men.” 10 In 1851, he married a Guernsey girl, Maria Anne de la Rue, the daughter of a British gentleman also employed by the Russian government. They had two sons, Walter W. Winans (b. 1852), who won a gold medal for shooting in the 1908 Olympics, and Louis W. Winans (b. 1857). In 1854, the Winans brothers’ younger sister Julia DeKay (b. 1825) married George William Whistler, George Washington Whistler’s oldest son (half-brother of the well-known artist William McNeil Whistler), who had joined the father in the Russian project and stayed to work at Alexanrdrovskoe after his death. 11 George Wil- liam Whistler became the main assistant of his brother-in-law in their Russian business. During the Crimean War, Winans, Harrison, & Winans enlarged their operations considerably. 12 In the war years (1854–56), William L. Winans acted also as a U.S. vice-consul at St. Petersburg. At the same time, some financial troubles began to darken relations with Russian authorities. The conditions of the 1850 contract were formulated in such a manner as to provide the Amer- ican firm with large additional profits. Interpreting the conditions in their

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 favor, Winans, Harrison, & Winans made in March 1852 their first demand for additional charges. By March 1854, their demands amounted to 2,176,311 rubles; in August 1855, the account reached the sum of 3,494,027 rubles. 13 The contract was concluded for six years, up to July 1 (13), 1856, with the possibility to extending it for another six years. Despite the financial troubles in 1856, the Russian government had little choice but to go along with the contract if rail service between St. Petersburg and Moscow was to be maintained. It was the accession year of Alexander II, and coronation celebrations were being traditionally held in both of the Rus- sian capitals. In the summer of 1856, Winans, Harrison, & Winans secured a 38 Vladimir V. Noskov second contract for the remount and construction of the rolling stock for the Nikolaevskaya Railroad. Referring to their success in Russia, an American newspaperman wrote in 1858: “These gentlemen have accumulated, in a few years, almost fabulous fortunes, and their contract holds good for several years to come. The terms are immensely in their favor, and it is said that the Gov- ernment has offered them a very large sum to cancel it, but the proposition has been refused.” At the same time, brothers Winans made an unsuccessful effort to force Harrison to sell his share and push him out of the business. 14 William L. Winans also tried to use the assistance of the U.S. minister at St. Petersburg, Thomas H. Seymour, to assert their charges against the Russian government but without success. In the autumn of 1859, an official answer was given, stating that there were no legal grounds to comply with the request. The next year, Winans renewed his charges through U.S. Minister Francis Pickens with the same result. 15 By that time, his health had been so weakened by the Russian climate that, in the fall of 1859, it broke down. There were symptoms of consumption, and Winans was warned by his doctor that another winter in Russia would probably be fatal. He was advised to winter at Brigh- ton in southern England, for the first time that year, he went to Brighton to restore his health. From that time, Winans spent the winters at Brighton and about eight months of the year in Russia. As a British attorney wrote, “His first object was his health. He nursed and tended it with wonderful devotion. He took his temperature several times a day. He had regular times for taking his temperature, and regular times for taking his various waters and medicines.” 16 Despite judicial failures and health problems, William L. Winans added to the luxurious furnishings of his Alexandrovskoe residence and, at the end of 1860, reported to his brother that their business in St. Petersburg was still doing quite well. At the eve of the Civil War, Winans, Harrison, & Winans was the largest American business venture in Russia. In 1861, however, a new round of financial clashes with the Russian government began. Because the contract terms were greatly to the advantage of the American company, the government attempted to alter them and thus cut its mounting expenses. The Winans’ appeals through U.S. Minister John Appleton were in vain. The American businessman thought that a primary cause of the government’s coolness was its consideration of the idea of selling the Nikolaevskaya Railroad to private interests, and he was clearly dismayed by the thought of 17

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 losing the business. One of Winans’ machines played a crucial part in the great St. Petersburg fire of May 1862. When the fire became extremely dangerous, it was a steam- fired machine from the Alexandrovsky plant that helped reverse the situation and save many buildings in the center of the Russian capital from destruction. 18 The fire machine was ordered by the chief manager of the Russian Ways of Communication, General Konstantin V. Chevkin, who since 1855 had led the struggle against the Winans’ “notorious contract.” 19 Russian engineer Valerian A. Panaev reported to him that payments to the Winans firm for repair of cars were 17 times more than in any other country of Europe. He The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 39 accounted that extra payments in Winans’ favor reached 30 million rubles for the previous 12 years. But Winans was a “mighty money force supported by influential people” in Russia, so the struggle against him was very difficult. 20 Only the expiration of the contract term in 1862 presented an opportunity to drive Winans out of Russia. He had planned then to obtain a fifteen-year lease on the Nikolae- vskaya Railroad. But his contract was recognized as extremely unprofitable for the Russian government; besides, Winans locomotives were modeled on American ones of the 1840s and were technically out of date by the 1860s. 21 So, in spite of continued support from Mel’nikov, who replaced Chevkin as a chief railway administrator in Russia, not only did Winans fail to win this lease, but he lost a new contract for maintaining the rolling stock of the Niko- laevskaya Railroad to a lower bid tendered by a consortium of French capitalists. 22 The contract with Caille & C° of Paris was operative for four years, starting on July 13, 1862. 23 William L. Winans always was on good terms with U.S. diplomats at St. Petersburg, whose assistance he tried to use in his dealings with the Russian government. One of his friends was an eccentric and extravagant Kentuckian, Cassius M. Clay, the U.S. minister in 1861–1862 and 1863–1869. 24 But just at that crucial moment Clay’s first term was over, and Winans turned his attention to the new minister, Lincoln’s former secretary of war, Simon Cameron, and his secretary of legation, the famous globe-trotter and writer Bayard Taylor. 25 Winans appealed several times to both American diplomats, asking their assistance in settling his pretenses to the Russian government, but was unsuccessful. 26 At the end of 1862, William L. Winans left St. Petersburg for England. The company’s unsettled charges at that moment amounted to the sum of 4,991,445 rubles and 47 3/8 kopecks. 27 Despite this, the Russian project made both Winans brothers millionaires and their firm one of the wealthiest in the world. 28 “Since the expiration of the contract of Messrs. Winans Harrison and Winans, for the running of the Nicholai Rail Road, there remains but little American capital in St. Petersburg,” the U.S. consul at St. Petersburg reported. “The American mechanics formerly in the employ of Messrs. Winans Harrison and Winans have nearly all left St. Petersburg, and, as constituted the majority of the United States citizens here, of course the present number is very small.”29

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Interlude Ross Winans was noted for the design of pioneering cigar-hulled ships, the first of which was launched in Baltimore in 1858. The Russian Naval journal regarded the event important enough to report on it to its readers. 30 The erup- tion of the American Civil War forced the antifederalist Ross Winans to move his nautical experiments to Russia, where they were placed under supervision of his younger son, William L. Winans, who gained experience in naval construction during the Crimean War when he helped to equip some gunboats for the defense of St. Petersburg. 31 The Alexandrovsky plant had all the necessary 40 Vladimir V. Noskov equipment for ship construction. What is more, before the Winans arrival in Russia, some experiments with a “secret boat” modeled “like a spindle” were made there. 32 In a memorandum, “War Vessels on the Spindle Principle,” dated July 1861, Winans presented to the Russian government a detailed proposal for three gunboats of a new type. His idea was supported by the chief of the Russian Navy, Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich. 33 In September a test model was ready. Unlike the 1858 model, it was moved by a screw instead of wheels. 34 On November 1 and 2, the Winans’ “cigar boat” ran tests on the Neva to the amazement of the St. Petersburg public. 35 On November 7, the “cigar boat” sailed to Kronstadt and the next day was subjected to trials by a special Gov- ernmental Commission in the Gulf of Finland, the results being rather negative. 36 In 1861, the Naval Scientific Committee examined and approved the Winans invention in the field of naval ordnance. 37 In December in a somewhat rambling letter to Cassius M. Clay, Winans proposed to construct a fleet of gunboats on the “spindle principle” to counter what he saw as the threat of imminent war between the United States and England. 38 The plan to build large, fast, and powerful warships with heavy armor plating and large breech-loaded guns impressed Clay, who kept the State Department informed of Winans’ proposals. The minister was advised that the Kronstadt experiments were conducted especially with the prospect of Union naval requirements in mind. 39 But the final verdict of the Russian Shipbuilding Technical Committee was not in favor of the Winans invention, due to what was observed during the trials. 40 Despite the conclusion of experts, Winans declared he was absolutely certain of final success and would continue his experiments. After expiration of his railroad contract, Winans went to England, where constructing spindle-shaped vessels was his main occupation. The Winans’ invention was remembered in Russia during the Polish Crisis of 1863, which threatened a new war against an Anglo-French coalition. In the midst of this alarm, the Winans’ experimental “cigar boat” was loaded on the English steamboat Nautilus that left Kronstadt on May 20, 1863. 41 Winans continued his naval experiments simultaneously in England and France. A third “cigar boat” was launched in 1865 in Havre. In autumn of the same year, Winans began construction in London of another boat intended as a 42

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 private yacht for himself. On February 19, 1866, this new “cigar-ship,” Ross Winans, was launched on the Thames, flying American, British, and Russian flags. In addition, a pennant of the Imperial St. Petersburg Yacht Club was hoisted because Winans wanted to register his boat there. 43 By that time, he had a new railroad contract in Russia and had connected his future life plans with its capital. The same year, “Vasilii Roosovich Winans ” obtained a membership to the St. Petersburg River Yacht Club, joined later by his elder brother, “Foma Rossovich.” 44 The Ross Winans was the fourth and largest of the “cigar boats” but, like its predecessors, ultimately proved a failure and could not reach its destination. The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 41 Final The French company had no experience in management of American-style rolling stock and no trained personnel in the field. Besides, the spare parts for repairs left by the Americans were mostly of low quality because the Winans’ stocks were defective. The situation was worsened by the unusually cold winter of 1864–65. 45 Mel’nikov, now the first Russian minister of ways of communication, used the opportunity for returning his old friend to Rus- sia in spite of the opinion of the special investigating commission created to study the case. Referring to the relationship between Mel’nikov and William L. Winans, a Russian engineer and railroad administrator noted that “both of them are terrible cynics.” Thomas D. Winans also arrived in St. Petersburg to help William organize a new company, incorporated as the “Winans Broth- ers,” which bought out the French firm for the remaining year of their contract from July 13, 1865, to July 13, 1866. Under Mel’nikov’s pressure, the Russian government agreed to another and even more unprofitable contract with the American firm than the previous ones. The new Winans contract for repairing rolling stock of the Nikolaevskaya Raiload was made on July 31, 1865; a year later, an additional contract for constructing new rolling stock was concluded, this time to extend over eight years. These agreements were prepared by William L. Winans with the assistance of corrupted Russian bureaucrats and opened opportunities for “rooking the Treasury.” 46 Thus, after a three-year interruption, the Winans’ railroad equipment industry in Russia was back in business at an even more lucrative level. 47 Actually, the Winans brothers’ enterprise had turned into a source of corruption and an instrument of draining the Imperial Treasury. In 1866, the closest Russian-American rapprochement culminated in the triumphant reception of the U.S. special mission headed by Gustavus V. Fox. “Mr. Winans, of Baltimore, the well-known contractor,” took part in St. Petersburg festivities by inviting on August 20 honorary American visitors to a dinner at his residence. 48 The Winans brothers had at their disposal a government-owned villa located on the bank of the Neva on the other side of the Nevsky Picket. 49 On Christmas Eve, William Winans met other noted Americans, Nathaniel Appleton, Jr. and Charles A. Longfellow, at the home of George William Whistler. Two American generals, Minister Cassius Clay and Consul George Pomútz, were also present. 50 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Meanwhile, the financial crisis of 1865–66 forced the Russian Finance Minister Mikhail Reutern to initiate a special Railroad Fund to improve the economic situation. The key measure in his plan was the privatization of the Nikolaevskaya Railroad because the Winans contract was highly unprofitable for the Russian government. The preliminary decision relating to the railroad was made on October 11, 1866, with the consent of Alexander II. 51 On February 15, 1867, Reutern argued in his report to the emperor that this measure was more profitable than any foreign loan. 52 Mel’nikov actively resisted the scheme, but Reutern responded that the net profit of the railroad 42 Vladimir V. Noskov was decreasing due to incurring more expenses than European railroads and Russian private ones. On March 22, 1867, the emperor made the final decision to sell the Nikolaevskaya Railroad. 53 This was almost concurrent with the decision to sell Russian America to the United States. 54 And it was not a mere coincidence; both measures were main points of Reutern’s plan to promote the funding of railroads to stimulate the whole Russian economy. By that time, as academician Alexander Nikitenko noted, the Nikolaevs- kaya Railroad was in a terrible state, and the danger of interrupting the movement on it existed because it was actually in the hands of “one American.” 55 In June 1867, a Presbyterian minister from New York, Samuel Prime, traveled between St. Petersburg and Moscow and noted in his diary: “It is said in its praise that this great road was constructed by Americans, and it jolts us so naturally that we felt at home as we started. It is no credit to our country that its road is the roughest in Europe.” 56 Officers of the U.S. Squadron commanded by Admiral David G. Farragut, which visited Russia in August 1867, did not mention any jolting but praised the hospitality of their compatriots. The historian of the cruise remembered “a very kind invitation from Major Whistler, of the well-known firm of Winans & Co.” Accepting “this generous offer,” American sailors “set out for Moscow, in a special car provided by Major Whistler, and furnished with many little «creature comforts» which he wisely foresaw would contribute to the wants of all, and relieve the tedium of the twenty hours required for the journey.” 57 On May 3, 1867, the Finance Ministry commenced confidential negotiations with the Council of Managers of the Main Society of Russian Railroads. The society, headed by Count Grigory Stroganov (husband of the emperor’s sister Grand Duchess Maria Nicolaevna), was close to the court and had Euro- pean business connections. Despite its former failures, Reutern regarded the society as the best partner for the government. The obligatory condition of the projected agreement presented by the council was the elimination of the Winans’ contract because its continuance made an increase of profits impossible. 58 At the end of 1867, two Russian companies offered conditions for buying the railroad, insisting on cancellation of the Winans’ contract as sine qua non of any scheme of privatization. 59 William L. Winans presented his own project in an aggressive manner, demanding the approval of his propositions immediately and threatening to renew all former claims of Winans, Harri-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 son, & Winans on the Russian government. Winans also stated that he would regard the Main Society as a party to his contract instead of the government so that the latter would be obligated to enter into a special agreement with him and pay for the elimination of the contract. 60 On January 4, 1868, Reutern recommended to the Council of Ministers in favor of the Main Society. Meln’nikov, who was kept uninformed of the secret negotiations between the Finance Ministry and the Main Society, strongly objected, using arguments very similar to those of Winans. After considerable discussion, the emperor ordered the creation of a special committee under chairmanship of Stroganov to formulate general conditions of privatization. 61 The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 43 On February 4, 1868, Winans renounced his original proposition. Two weeks later, Reutern sent Whistler a proposal with a stipulation for the transfer of governmental obligations under any contracts related to the railroad, especially under the Winans’ contract, to its future proprietor. In answer, Winans declared that the government had no right to change the contract conditions without consent of his firm. On March 12, he sent a proposal to sell the Nikolaevskaya Railroad to a company specially created by him, actually presenting the Rus- sian government with an ultimatum and demanding a decision in a month. 62 In another letter of the same date, Winans wrote in the name of his company that

in case the Government should concede the Nikolai Railway to the Com- pany to be formed by Mr. W. L. Winans . . . we are willing to give up the Contract for the Remount etc., dated July 19, 1865, for its unexpired term . . . by delivering it to the Company at the price and on conditions . . . proposed this day by our Mr. W. L. Winans.

But “if the Nikolai Railway is conceded by the Government to any other Company than the one which may be formed by our Mr. W. L. Winans, the Government to be responsible for payments to us of the amount, at the terms and as stated in the A.W.L. Winans proposition.” 63 On March 26, Reutern offered to answer within a week if Winans agreed with the governmental conditions, but the obstinate American evaded the question and continued to insist on his conditions. 64 In its turn, the Main Society proposed an alteration to the governmental project related to the conditions of negotiation of and payment for the elimination of the Winans’ contract. The society insisted on government assistance in resolving this problem. 65 The special committee headed by Grand Duke Konstantin Nikolaevich unanimously supported Reutern’s proposal to reject the Winans’ project because of its violation of Russian corporate law and governmental conditions for privatization of the Nikolaevskaya Railroad. The Finance Minister stressed also that previous Winans’ activities as a contractor made him an unreliable person with whom to deal. 66 On June 9, the Committee of Ministers decided in favor of a company of Moscow capitalists who presented the most profitable plan of privatization for the government,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 but on June 20, 1868, the emperor finally decided the matter in favor of the Main Society. 67 As an attentive American observed, the railroad was sold “to the Court clique, headed by Count Strogonoff.” 68 Russian national capital lost this great battle to a mighty financial force connected with European speculative markets and backed by the Imperial Finance Ministry. 69 When the Russian government rejected Winans’ bid to purchase the Niko- laevskaya Railroad, it was the “most serious setback to American business in Russia.” The U.S. consul at Moscow, Eugene Schuyler, thought the defeat was connected with Russian discontent over the delay in payment for Russian America. He reported that “one great obstacle to Mr. Winans’ success was the 44 Vladimir V. Noskov fact that he was an American. There was a great prejudice against allowing such an important road and so much money to go into the hands of a foreigner.” 70 At this crucial moment, Winans appealed to Cassius Clay, but the U.S. minister’s position at the Russian Court was weak because of a series of scandals and blunders. Besides, Clay was compromised by his own telegraphic and other speculations and could not help his old friend. A few days after the Emperor’s decision, Winans wrote to Reutern in the name of his company: “Having learned that it has been decided to cede the Nicolai Railway to the Grand Society of Russian Railways, and that the delivery of the Road and appurtenances to the Society is to commence July 1st and end August 31st of the present year, and as it, for very important reasons becomes necessary that we should know by the 23d of the present month definitely whether our proposal concerning the cancelling of our Contract is accepted, we most respectfully request Your Excellency to inform us by that time upon this point.” By the terms of that proposal, “the indemnity for giving up our Contract for its unexpired term from September 1st next, will be 7,180,500 Rbls. and payments for materials, duplicate parts etc., about 600.000 Rubles, besides the advances already received, payable in equal instal- ments monthly during seven years.” But in case “the Government desires to pay us at once in cash . . . we are willing to reduce the amount of indemnity to 6,000000, that is six million rubles, payable in cash on the 1st of September next, or we will agree to take that amount in guaranteed obligations of the Nicolai Railway at the same price as those already issued, have been issued to the public.” We “are also willing to make a corresponding reduction from the price of materials and duplicate parts etc., in consideration of payment being made for them in cash September 15th next.” 71 In another letter to Reutern, Winans stressed that the conditions presented by the Winans brothers on March 12 “were proposed by us for the acceptance of the Government, and not for negotiation between the Grand Society and ourselves, and that, as these propositions were not accepted by the time named in our letter of the 15th of June last, we now withdraw them.” He wrote that until the cancelling of their Contract, “we must consider ourselves to have the rights, and as being bound, to execute our contract, as heretofore, strictly, and to demand exactly such an execution on the part of the Government itself, and not by a third party or a Company.” But “wishing, on our part, as

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 far as possible, consistent with our own interests, to assist the Government in carrying out its views,” we have “the honor to express our willingness to present to Your Excellency the conditions, under which we would agree with the Government, that the execution of the obligations of the Government, under the Contract of July 19th, 1865, should be transferred to the Grand Society, if Your Excellency should demand of us the presentation of such conditions.” 72 Winans declared also that his company was “able to furnish all the movable machinery, which is required for the Nicolai Railway,” and if it should not be ordered of the Winans brothers, they “shall demand an additional pay for Remount of 50% under the Contract of July 19th, 1865.” 73 In reply to The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 45 the proposal to negotiate directly with the society’s council, Winans wrote that “it would not be in accordance to the obligations existing between the Government and ourselves, on the subject of furnishing movable machinery for the Nicolai Railway, for us to enter into negotiations with the Grand Soci- ety on that subject.” 74 Due to the Winans’ decision to refuse to deal with the Main Society, the Department of Railways was obliged to make new orders for remount and construction of the rolling stocks. Answering another of Reutern’s communications, Winans reminded him that “the payment to us, by the Government of 50% additional price for the Remount of the movable machinery is made imperative for the Government” by the 1865 contract. “In case it is desired that the Grand Society should enter into arrangements with us, for furnishing the machinery for the Nicolai Railway, with the view to stopping the additional payment to us of 50%, it is necessary that a supple- mentary agreement should be concluded between the Government and ourselves for having the execution of the obligations of the Government under the Contract of July 19th, 1865, transferred to the Grand Society.” 75 On August 5 (17), the Department of Railways officially informed the Winans brothers that:

The Senate Directing has made a general advertisement by the Ukase published on the 24th of June of the present year 1868 . . . that the Nicolai Rail- way is given over, by the Supreme order of His Majesty the Emperor, to the Grand Society of Russian Railways. . . . By virtue of this, all the Contracts concluded by the Ministry of Ways of Communication, the terms of which have not yet expired, and among the number, the Contract concluded with you on the 19th July 1865, for the Remount of the Movable machinery of the Nicolai Railway, remain in full force, and are transferred for further fulfillment to the Council of Management of the Grand Society, which therefore enters into all the rights and obligations of the Government. 76

Winans appealed to Mel’nikov, stating: “Any stoppage whatever, by the Government, in fulfilling its obligations to us . . . will be a serious violation of the Contract by the Government, and we protest against such violation of the Contract, in the most decided manner.” And “if the Government desired the transfer of the fulfillment of its obligations to us, under the Contract to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the Grand Society, we demand that before any stoppage by the Government itself in fulfilling any of its obligations to us under the Contract, an agreement shall be concluded with us, as above explained.” 77 Due to the Winans’ active resistance, the situation did not change after the Nikolaevskaya Railroad was transferred to the Main Society. What is more, Winans used the opportunity to make the transfer profitable for himself. Con- sul Schuyler reported in September 1868:

The Grand Company entered into possession of the Nicolai railway . . . on September 1–13, their shares having greatly gone up in consequence 46 Vladimir V. Noskov of their accession. The contract with Mr. Winans has been retained, and he (Mr. Winans) has bought very largely in the shares of the road, so that he is now one of the largest stockholders of the company. Paragraphs, founded on the supposition that he is dealing very strictly and sharply with the company, appear from time to time in the newspapers, but are usually denied. 78

In the early autumn of 1868, the governmental representative in the management of the Main Society prepared a special report on Winans’ manipulations. Seeking “the fastest cessation of paying to Winans extra-costs for remount,” it noted that Winans purposively extended the time to gain extra income. In another part, “About measures for liquidation the difference between Winans’ and the Railroad management’s accounts,” the Russian expert stated that the difference amounted to four million rubles over 22 months. Contrary to the Russian railway regulations, Winans demanded full payment for children’s tickets and used similar means to increase his profits. 79 On October 13, 1868, Winans presented to Mel’nikov a proposal for a sup- plementary agreement. 80 He wrote to Reutern that the conditions:

[A]re different from, and less extensive than, those which have been previously proposed by us and are designed to secure only the continuance of our rights. . . . Our obligations under the Contract are being performed by us since September 1st without the cooperation of the Government administrations (except in a few instances) . . . [and] we take this opportunity of presenting a new exposition of our views on the subject to Your Excellency as well as to the Minister of Ways of Communication, praying for a just consideration and protection of our rights in this business . . . and hoping thus to arrive speedily at an equitable and mutually satisfactory arrangement of this business between the Government and ourselves. 81

The negotiations relating to a final agreement with the Winans brothers lasted one more year. The year 1868 ended with considerable profit for the Main Society, but it could not distribute the surplus money because of the necessity to settle with the Winans brothers. The elimination of the scandalous contract became an urgent 82

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 task for the society’s council. As a consequence of the whole Nikolaevskaya Railroad affair, Mel’nikov was discharged in April 1869 and the acting minister of ways of communication, Vladimir Bobrinskii, actively pushed the negotiations with Winans. With the emperor’s consent, it was decided to pay “the rob- ber of the Russian Treasury” a great forfeit to cancel the contract that ended on July 1, 1872, ahead of schedule. An agreement was reached on October 13, 1869, at a cost of five million rubles. One and a half million more was to be paid for the Winans brothers’ property and materials, most unfit for further use. 83 Privatization of the Nikolaevskaya Railroad provided the means for the foundation of Reutern’s Railway Fund. The same year, the fund gained The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 47 nine million rubles from the payment for Russian America. 84 Receiving this amount from the U.S. Treasury, Russia paid at the same time six and a half million rubles (more than half of the sale price for Russian America) to an American citizen. In the 1880s, more than two million rubles were also paid by the Main Society as indemnity to its European founding stockholders, who were kept outside the privatization arrangement. 85 It was a great lesson of business for the Russian government, influencing to a degree its future attitude toward American businessmen. Memory of the Winans’ case made Emperor Alexander III refuse an American project to construct a set of grain elevators in Russia in 1884. 86 William L. Winans was a legendary figure in early Russian railroad history. He inculcated in the reformed Russia the same business ethics as his contemporaries did in the Gilded Age of America. In 1870, Winans retired to England with the fortune he had made, remaining there until his death in 1897. Del’vig estimated his total profit while in Russia to be 25 million rubles. 87 This sum was equivalent to about 18 or 19 million American dollars in those days. Winans spent five million rubles to purchase Main Society shares and became one of its most influential stockholders. 88 Every year from 1871 to 1883, he resided for about two months in Russia. 89 Winans usually went to St. Petersburg at the end of May, when a general meeting of stockholders usually assembled, and did his best to influence the election of the society’s council. His confidential agent in the council was the prominent Russian engineer Stanislav Kerbedz, who was a Winans company partner from the time of the Nikolaevsky Bridge construction. 90 In the end, privatization of the Nikolaevskaya Railroad proved a good deal for the Russian government. The foundation of the Railway Fund provided Reutern with the means to reorganize the whole system of financing of railroad construction. Realization of two issues of the Nikolaevskaya Railroad bonds yielded a profit of 105,866,934 paper rubles. 91 In a few years, the settling with the Winans brothers on the exploitive expenses of the Railroad decreased by more than twice the costs of operation. 92 The whole railroad and its rolling stock were modernized and reconstructed, and the line between St. Petersburg and Moscow entered into a new epoch of history.

Notes Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 1. George L. Vose, A Sketch of the Life and Works of George W. Whistler (Boston: Lee and Shephard, 1887), 29. 2. Kratkii istoricheskii ocherk razvitiia i deiatel’nosti vedomstva putei soobsheneniia (St. Petersburg, 1898), 96–97; Alexander Tarsaidze, “American Pioneers in Russian Railroad Building,” Russian Review 9, 4 (October 1950): 289. 3. Istoricheskii ocherk raznykh otraslei zheleznodoroshnogo dela i razvitiia finansovo- ekonomicheskoi storony zheleznykh dorog v Rossii po 1897 g. (St. Petersburg: M-va put. Soobshch, 1901), 29–30. 4. A. I. Del’vig, Moi vospominaniia, 4 vols (Moscow, 1912–13), 4, 30–31. 5. Obshchii obzor Aleksandrovskogo Glavnogo Mekhanicheskogo Zavoda S. Peterburgo- Moskovskoi zheliznoi dorogi (St. Petersburg: n.p., 1847), 2–3. 48 Vladimir V. Noskov 6. Joseph Harrison, Jr., The Iron Worker and King Solomon (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1869), 33. 7. Vose, 35. 8. Harrison, 34. See also P. B. Krivskaia, “Neizvestnye vospominaniia amerikanskikh predprinimatelei o stroitel’stve Sankt-Peterburgsko-Moskovskoi zheleznoi dorogi,” Peterburgskie chteniia, 97 (1997): 546. 9. Istoricheskii ocherk , 40. 10. Winans v. Attorney-General [House of Lords Journal , May 10, 1904], http://www. uniset.ca/other/cs5/1904AC287.html 11. Norman E. Saul, Distant Friends: the United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Law- rence: University Press of Kansas, 1991), 142. 12. Ibid., 225–26. 13. S. A. Urodkov, Peterburgo-Moskovskaiai zheleznaia doroga (Leningrad: Leningrad State University Press, 1951), 154–55. The exchange rate in the 1860s was about 1.33 rubles to $1.00. 14. Saul, 245. 15. Proshenie i Prilosheniia predstavlennye Ego Imperatorskomu Velichestvu Gosudariu Imperatoru Aleksandru II, Amerikanskiimi grazhdanami Uainans, Garrison i Uainans otnositel’no ikh iska na Rossiiskoe Pravitel’stvo (London, 1863), xii–xiii. 16. Winans v. Attorney-General, http://www.uniset.ca/other/cs5/1904AC287.html 17. Saul, 244–45. 18. A. S. Kharlamov, “Otrivki iz vospominanii,” Istoricheskii Vestnik, no. 1 (1889): 98–99; Del’vig, 3, 165. 19. “Konstantin Vladimirovich Chevkin,” Zheleznodoroshnoe Delo, 39/40 (1893): 392–93. 20. Panaev, Chetyre ministra putei soobshcheniia (St. Petersburg, 1889), 26–30. 21. “Obshchie chislitel’nye resul’taty po eksploatatsii Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi v prodolzhenii pervykh desiati let ee sushchestvovaniia,” Zhurnal Glavnogo Upravle- niia Putei Soobsheniia i Publichnykh Zdanii 1 (1862), smes’: 2; Del’vig, 3, 62, 323–24. 22. Saul, 357. 23. “Remont podvizhnogo sostava Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi,” Zhurnal Glavnogo Upravleniia Putei Soobshcheniia i Publichnykh Zdanii, no. 6 (1862), smes’: 49–58. 24. The Life of Cassius Marcellus Clay (Cincinnati, OH: J. Fletcher Brennan, 1886), 416–17, 449. 25. Taylor to Annie Carey, August 26, 1862, Huntington Library Quarterly, 9, 4 (August 1946): 413; Marie Hansen-Taylor, On Two Continents: Memories of Half a Century (New York: Doubleday, Page, 1905), 122. 26. Proshenie i Prilozheniia, xiv-xv, 536–37, 580–83. 27. Ibid., xvi. 28. Tarsaidze, “ American Pioneers ,” 294. 29. W. E. Phelps to W. H. Seward, December 31, 1863, National Archives Micro- film Publications, Microcopy 81, Despatches from United States Consuls in St. Petersburg, 1803–1906 (Roll 7); Commercial Relations of the United States with Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Foreign Nations (1864), 423–24. 30. M. Crisafulli, “The Winans Cigar Ships,” http://www.vernianera.com/CigarBoats. html; “Parakhod Vainansa, napodobie sigary,” Morskoi Sbornik 1 (1859), smes’: 31–35. [In Morskoi Sbornik , pagination was done by sections] 31. Saul, 225–26. 32. Proletartsy: Istoriia leningradskogo ob”edeneniia “Proletarskii zavod” (Leningrad, 1977), 40, 45–47. 33. Crisafulli, “The Gunboat Proposals, 1860s,” http://vernianera.com/Winans/ Gunboats.html; 1857–1861: Perepiska Imperatora Aleksandra II s Velikim Kniazem Konstantinom Nikolaevichem: Dnevnik Velikogo Kniazia Kanstantina Nikolaevicha (Moscow: Terra, 1994), 331. The End of the Winans Brothers’ Railroad 49 34. “S. Peterburg, 28 Sentiabria,” Morskoi Sbornik 10 (1861), Sovr. Obozr.: 222. 35. “S. Peterburg, 26 Oktiabria,” Morskoi Sbornik 11 (1861), Sovr. Obozr.: 69. 36. “Kronshtadt, 15 Noiabria,” Morskoi Sbornik 12 (1861), Sovr. Obozr.: 167. 37. “Kronshtadt, 15 Noiabria,” Morskoi Sbornik 12 (1861), Sovr. Obozr.: 167; “Otchet predsedatelia Morskogo Uchenogo Komiteta kontr-admirala Zelenogo za 1861 god,” Morskoi Sbornik 4 (1862), Ofits. Otd.: 155. 38. Crisafulli, “The Gunboat Proposals, 1860s.” 39. Saul, 357. 40. “Otchet o deistviiakh korablestroitel’nogo tekhnicheskogo komiteta v 1862,” Morskoi Sbornik, 8 (1863), Ofits. Otd.: 246. 41. F. M. Novosel’skii to S. A. Greig, May 15, 1863, RGAVMF (Russian State Archives of the Navy), f. 410, op. 2, no 2628, l. 2. 42. “Zagranichnaia morskaia khronika,” Morskoi Sbornik 9 (1865): 19–21. 43. “Sudno-sigara,” Morskoi Sbornik 3 (1866), Zagr. Mor. Khroniki: 22–26. 44. Dviadtsatipiatiletie S.-Peterburgskogo rechnogo Iakht-Kluba (St. Petersburg, 1885), 120. 45. Del’vig, 3, 325–31. See also “Dokald Komissii naznachennoi dlia osvidetel’stvovaniia puti i podvizhnogo sostava Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi, April 20, 1865” (St. Peters- burg, 1866). 46. Del’vig, 3, 332–37. Another Russian eyewitness gave an anecdotal example of corruption used by Winans in dealings with the Russian railroad administration: K. A. Skal’kovskii, Vospominaniia molodosti (St. Petersburg, 1906), 259. 47. Saul, 357–58. 48. G.V. Fox to G. Welles, September 30, 1866, Papers Relating to the Foreign Relations of the United States, 1866 (Washington, D.C.: Department of State), 425; Joseph F. Loubat, Narrative of the Mission to Russia, in 1866, of the Hon. Gustavus Vasa Fox (New York: D. Appleton, 1873), 197. 49. Vseobshaia adresnaia kniga S.-Peterburga, 1867–68, 3, 89; 4, 96. 50. Nathan Appleton, Russian Life and Society as Seen in 1866–67 by Appleton and Longfellow . . . and a Journey to Russia with General Banks in 1869 . . . (Boston: Murray and Emery, 1904), 98. 51. A. N. Kulomzin and V. G. Reitern-Nol’ken, M. Kh. Reitern (St. Petersburg: 1910), 24, 102. 52. Istoricheskii ocherk razvitiia zheleznykh dorog v Rossii. vol. 1 (St. Petersburg: I. N. Kushnerev, 1898), 151. 53. [N. A. Kislinskii], Nasha zheleznodorozhnaia politika, vol. 1 (St. Petersburg, 1902), 236, 240. 54. Saul, Concord and Conflict: The United States and Russia, 1867–1914 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas), 40. 55. A. V. Nikitenko, Zapiski i dnevnik, 3 vols. (Moscow: Zakharov, 2005) 3: 162. 56. Norman Saul, Concord and Conflict, 41; see also, Samuel I. Prime, The Alhambra and the Kremlin: The North and South of Europe (New York: Anson D. F. Randolph, 1873), 322. 57. James E. Montgomery, Our Admiral’s Flag Abroad: The Cruise of Admiral D. G. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Farragut . . . (New York: G. P. Putnam, 1869), 72, 76. 58. Vysochaishe utverzhdennoe 8 Iiunia 1868 g. uslovie peredachi Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi Glavnomu Obshchestvu Rossiiskikh zheleznykh dorog (St. Petersburg, 1887), 4–5. 59. Istoricheskii ocherk rasvitiia , 154–55. 60. Sravnenie kombinatsii Glavnogo Obshchestva Rossiiskikh zheleznykh dorog i predlozhenie Uainansa po prodazhe kaznoiu Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi (St. Petersburg: A. Kraevskii, 1867), 16–17. 61. Istoricheskii ocherk razvitiia , 157–59; Kislinskii, 303–05. 62. W. L. Winans to Minister of Finance, February 25 and 29, 1868 [old style], in Predlozhenie grazdanina Severo-Amerikanskikh Shtatov V. L. Uainansa po 50 Vladimir V. Noskov uchrezhdeniiu AKompanii Nikolaevskoi zheleznoi dorogi” (St. Petersburg, A. F. Kraevskii, 1868), 1–2, 4–5. 63. RGIA (Russian State Historical Archive), f. 268, op. 1, ch. 2, no. 1698, l. 7–8ob. 64. W. L. Winans to Minister of Finance, March 21, 1868, Soglashenie predlozheniia V. L. Uainansa ot 29-go fevralia 1868 goda po obrazovaniiu Kompanii Nikolaevs- koi zheleznoi dorogi s izmennymi obshchimi usloviiami Pravitel’stva (St. Peters- burg, 1868), 1–2. 65. Vysochaishe utverzhdennoe 8 Iiunia 1868 g., uslovie, 23–26. 66. Kislinskii, 308–10. 67. Istoricheskii ocherk razvitia, 160–65. 68. Appleton, 167–77. 69. V. A. Kokorev, Ekonomicheskie provaly po vospominaniiam s 1837 goda (Moscow, 2005), 151–55. 70. Saul, Concord and Conflict , 40. 71. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finance; June 15, 1868, RGIA, f. 268, op. 1, ch. 2, no. 1698, l 20–20ob. 72. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finance, July 2, 1868, RGIA, f. 268, op. l., 20–21ob. 73. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finance, RGIA, f. 268, op. l. 23–23ob, 38. 74. Winans Brothers to the Council of Management of the Grand Society of Russian Railways, July 19, 1868 (copy), RGIA, f. 268, op. l., 41–42. 75. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finance; July 30, 1868, RGIA, f. 268, op. l, 38–39. 76. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finance; July 30, 1868, RGIA, f. 268, op. l., 59–59ob. 77. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Ways of Communication; August 22, 1868 (copy), RGIA, f. 268, op. 1., 60ob-62. 78. Commercial Relations of the United States with Foreign Nations (1868), 589. 79. RGIA, f. 268, op. 1, ch. 2, no. 1698, l 75–77ob. 80. Ibid, l. 105–115ob. 81. Winans Brothers to the Minister of Finances; October 14, 1868, RGIA, f. 268, op. l., 81–82. 82. Otchet Soveta Upravleniia Glavnogo Obshchesva rossiiskikh zheleznykh dorog za 1868 (St. Petersburg, 1869), iii. 83. Ocherk desiatiletnego upravleniia Nikolaevskoiu zheleznoiu dorogoiu Glavnym obshchestvom rossiiskikh zheleznikh dorog (St. Petersburg, 1878), 10–13; Del’vig, 3, 334; 4, 144–45. 84. Kislinskii, 182, 242. 85. A. F. Koni, Na zhiznennom puti , 5 vols. (Moscow: I. D. Syitin, 1914), 1, 462–66. 86. A. A. Polovtsov, Dnevnik gosudarstvennogo sekretaria, 2 vols. (Moscow: Zentropoli- graf, 2005) 1, 212. 87. Del’vig, 3, 337. 88. Ibid., 4, 145. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 89. Winans v. Attorney-General, http://www.uniset.ca/other/cs5/1904AC287.html 90. Del’vig, 3, 337; 4, 145–46. 91. Kulomzin, 30–31. 92. Ocherk desiateletnego upravleniia , 36. 4 In Service to the Tsar American Surgeons in the Crimean War, 1853–1856

William Benton Whisenhunt

The Crimean War began in 1853 and pitted Russia against Great Britain, France, the Ottoman Empire, and others. While most European powers chose sides in this conflict, the United States maintained official neutrality. Russia and the United States had enjoyed fairly tranquil relations since their mutual official recognition in the first part of the nineteenth century. The Russians, especially, had had a long-serving group of diplomats in the United States in the first half of the century. The United States and Russia, though, did not have a full diplomatic corps in either country when the war broke out. The United States under President Franklin Pierce had become more aggressive in territorial expansion, especially with gains made in the previous decade from wars with Mexico. However, Pierce took the more cautious stance of neutrality in this conflict that could bring the United States into direct conflict with European powers. 1 For Russia, the Eastern Question (as it was known) went back several centuries. As the Ottoman Empire slowly collapsed, issues of religion, trade, and military operations emerged. Many non-Muslim areas of the Ottoman Empire were seeking independence by the early nineteenth century. Russia, under Nicholas I, took a special interest in the Orthodox Christian areas and clearly believed that these lands should be under Russian control. With loosening Ottoman control in the Black Sea, the issue of trade (mainly of grain) in and out was also open to new players. Lastly, Russia had had a strong interest in gaining a warm-water port for its navy since the time of Peter the Great. Nicholas I viewed this region as one that would be more appropriately part of 2

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the Russian Empire for all of the reasons above. Despite American neutrality, many Americans were sympathetic with the Russian cause. However, this was not a uniform American position. Many, especially in New England, supported Great Britain in this conflict, mainly as a protest to the repressive nature of the Russian government. Those Ameri- cans who did support Russia did so because of a “traditional hostility toward Britain, disgust with Turkish suppression of Christianity, an aversion to the new ‘autocratic’ government of France, and friendly relations with Russia.” 3 A small community of Americans resided in Russia in the 1850s. Most of them were in St. Petersburg, but some were also spread throughout the empire. 52 William Benton Whisenhunt Colonel Samuel Colt, inventor of the revolver by the same name, worked for several months in Russia trying to improve arms design and manufacturing. Russian officials held Colt in high regard for his critical work that aided their war effort, and Colt was so impressed with Russia that he added a traditional Russian “onion dome” to one of his gun factories in Connecticut. Other Americans included the crew that delivered the S. S. America for Russian service, a submarine and wrecking company from Boston that was hired to raise part of the sunken Russian fleet in the Black Sea, and mechanics and engineers who were trying to help expand the railroad in Moscow. One of the most famous American visitors was Captain George B. McClellan (later Union commander in the U.S. Civil War) and his military commission who were in the country to observe the Russian army during the Crimean War. McClellan’s commission published a study of the Russian military system that was quite comprehensive for its time. 4 On October 20, 1855, Charles Ross Parke wrote, “Twas here on this ground I heard the first peal of Artillery, which made me feel as though I would soon be in the midst of the Butchering and the Butchered .” 5 Parke, one of three dozen American surgeons who served on the Russian side in the Crimean War, had just crossed into Crimea, where he would experience war for the first time. The war was more than a year old, and it took Parke nearly two months to reach his assignment; several other American surgeons had been working at the front for some time. Even though other Americans were active in Russia during the middle of the 1850s, the American surgeons had perhaps the greatest direct impact. There were thirty-six American surgeons, among a larger contingent of foreign doctors, on the Russian side during the Crimean War. Aside from all being surgeons, these Americans had little else in common. They were from such various parts of the United States as Alabama, Mississippi, Virginia, Illinois, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, California, and New York. None of them were over thirty-five years old. Few knew each other before arriving in Crimea. Yet, several had attended medical school at the University of Pennsylvania, and some were pursuing further medical education in Paris and Vienna when the war broke out. All of the surgeons worked through the American consul in Odessa, John Ralli, to gain admission to the Russian front. Ralli was of Greek origin and served as the American consul in Odessa for

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 several decades. It was he who worked with the American surgeons on their travel arrangements, payments, letters in and out, funeral details, and returning personal items. All of the American surgeons applauded Ralli’s work. There are four prevailing theories about why these American surgeons volunteered for duty in a country so far from home and in a culture so unfamiliar to most Americans. 6 First, many of the young surgeons craved adventure. Rus- sia’s Crimean War seemed to offer this. Some, like Parke, had already been on adventures to California in the Gold Rush of the late 1840s. Others were younger and sought an exotic adventure. Second, the Russian government was offering high salaries that were more than five times a normal Russian In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 53 surgeon’s salary and double a normal American surgeon’s salary. As a result, over one hundred foreign surgeons took part in this special offer from the Russian government. Third, many Americans held strong anti-British feelings related to earlier conflicts and more recent trade tensions. Russians shared this feeling with the Americans, mainly concerning British trade policies and conduct on the high seas. This common foe helped bring the surgeons from these two distant countries together. Lastly, nearly all of the surgeons sought real surgical experience. While they all had some experience with surgery, a common thought at that time was that the only way to obtain true experience was to perform field surgery during a war. Only one of the three dozen Ameri- can surgeons had any wartime surgical experience. So, it was not uncommon for surgeons to take commissions in foreign militaries. 7 For Charles Ross Parke of Illinois, his motivation for serving in Russia was related to all four of these reasons. Parke was born and raised in Parkesburg, Pennsylvania, to a family that had prominent connections to the American Revolutionary War era. He attended a Quaker boarding school, but by twenty he studied medicine in the office of Dr. Wilmer Worthington before attending medical school at the University of Pennsylvania. After spending a year in Pennsylvania as a doctor, he moved to Illinois in 1848 near his half-brothers in Peoria. Not long after settling in Illinois, he moved further north to the tiny village of Como on the Rock River. In early 1849, he helped form the Como Pioneer Company to seek his fortune in the Gold Rush of 1849. Parke, serving as the company’s doctor, reached California, but he did not find his great fortune there. Parke kept a diary of his adventure that concluded with his rather unusual return route to Illinois by sea and land through Nicaragua. Many Gold Rushers returned through Central America but usually further south through Panama where the crossing was easier. After his return to Illinois in 1852, he moved to Bloomington to establish a medical practice. However, within three years, Parke took up the offer from the Russian government to serve in Crimea. He left his new home in September of 1855. 8 Parke’s two-month journey took him by sea and by land to reach Crimea. Along the way, he noted in his diary many of the daily events that occurred while traveling. These reflections were not terribly remarkable. However, once he reached Russia in October of 1855, his comments about Russians became much more precise and pointed. One of his first encounters with Rus-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 sians was near Brest, where he stayed the night in a local home. His hosts were surprised to see an American in a Russian uniform, but once they knew his purpose, they greeted him with great hospitality and tea. Parke recorded that the “beautiful madam” stated that “Americk loves Russ, Russ loves Americk,” which Parke concluded “almost carved away the fortifications which encircled my heart.” His first view of Russians was rather positive, primarily because he was in the company of upper-class people who treated him with the respect that he thought he deserved. He viewed himself as someone doing the Rus- sians a favor and should be treated accordingly. As he moved closer to the front and out of cities, though, his views changed quite sharply. 9 54 William Benton Whisenhunt As Parke traveled deeper into Russia, he saw more of the countryside. This revealed the intense poverty of peasant life in Russia. His shock was clearly understandable, but he seemed preoccupied with the general filth of the people and the animals that he encountered. He was particularly appalled by the fact that peasants lived in homes with their animals, washed in mud puddles, and beat their clothes and other garments on rocks rather than wash them properly. He also seemed shocked by Russian peasants who burned manure for fuel and by the general lack of stoves. He understood the difference between a peasant and a serf, but it did not occupy much of this writing. In this phase of his travels, he observed a three-foot crucifix that he described in good detail before he launched into a rant about the peasants’ blind devotion to their traditions. He asserted “the poor, ignorant, deluded people bow and cross themselves every time they pass by—this they do three times.” He further debated with himself about his responsibility to shake these people from their slumber. He entertained, yet rejected, the idea that God had punished these people by this condition for some previous sin. He speculated about their limited “capacity” to understand properly the world around them. The beginning of this section of Parke’s diary looked like a criticism of religion, but as it progressed, it became clear that Parke was offended by the peasants’ general condition that included a significant degree of ignorance in his view. 10 He concluded this evaluation of Russian peasants with the thought that they lacked a “properly regulated mind.” In particular, they lacked ambition and love of virtue, which resulted in their stagnation. Clearly, Parke noted, America was just such a place where “minds in action” and talent produced an ever-progressing society. 11 Parke seemed to mark a clear distinction between a sober Protestant religious viewpoint and the Orthodox one that he thought to be a bit superstitious. Parke, though, was not the only surgeon to leave a record of the difficult, complicated, and revealing journey to Crimea. Isaac Draper, Jr. was from South Attleboro, Massachusetts, son of an attorney, and by all accounts quite bright. He attended Brown University in the early 1840s and then the Medical College at Harvard University between 1844 and 1845, but he had to leave because of poor health. He finished his medical studies in Philadelphia in 1848. After a few years of practice in Phila- delphia, he went to Paris to improve his surgical skills in 1853. It was there

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 that he learned of the opportunity to serve in the Russian army in the newly declared war. One of his obituaries declared that his “object in so doing was to avail himself of practice of field surgery, not available save on the field of action.” 12 Draper’s account, like Parke’s, took the reader through his stages of involvement step-by-step. However, Draper’s account was different because it ended abruptly when he fell ill and died not long after. 13 After reaching Europe, Draper spent some time in Paris working on his surgical skills, but the conflict in Crimea held the attention of many in the French capital. Draper traveled to Brussels to meet with Russian officials and accepted his commission in the Russian army. After leaving Brussels, he had a In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 55 brief stop in Cologne to marvel at the city’s magnificent cathedral. He wrote favorably about his journey across German territories from Frankfort to Leipzig to Dresden. In many ways, this part of his diary was filled with reflections of a tourist with glowing reports of service on the journey; the food that he ate; and the sites that he saw, such as castles, cathedrals, and more. 14 Once he reached Vienna in July of 1854, he was still in awe of the history and culture of the region through which he was traveling, but he also took action to help him move further into more contested territory. The Russian officials in Vienna accepted his letters without hesitation and treated him with great care. Draper was favorably impressed with the Russian diplomatic corps in Vienna. He noted “you may rest assured that Nicholas has no diplomatic agents who are not in all respects qualified for their business. He (Nich- olas) sends no diplomat who cannot speak the language of the country where he goes. (Not so with our government.)” 15 Before he left Vienna, Draper noted a moment of pause concerning his decision to undertake this mission. Reassuring himself that he will not be killed or wounded, Draper quickly dismissed his second thoughts. He doubted that he would even see the battlefield, concluding that “if we do go on the field at all, you may believe that I shall do my best always to get on the safe side (if possible) of some large tree.” 16 As he moved further south and east, the conditions worsened. He rode in simple carriages on rough roads that made him ache. He saw much poverty, many dirty villages, and numerous Jews (which he and the other American surgeons would regularly note). By the time he reached Jassy, he grew concerned about how there had been little information about the progress of the war noting that “in the principal city of Moldavia (Yassy) something like accurate information could not be obtained was, as it seemed to us, very strange indeed.” 17 The lack of communication in the Russian Empire, though, was not surprising for this era. American Samuel F. B. Morse had invented the telegraph in 1844, but the Russians did not have a nationwide telegraph system at the time of the Crimean War. There were projects underway with American involvement for expanding telegraph and railroad connections from Moscow to Crimea, but they did not prove instrumental in the war. Other participants in the war, notably the British and French, were quickly developing and using telegraph systems that gave them a great advantage in the war despite being 18

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 far from home. As each surgeon arrived in the war zone, some experienced remarkable receptions. For example, Parke and William Riddick Whitehead of Virginia never served together, but their initial experiences have an eerie similarity. Whitehead, who served in Sevastopol and arrived in February of 1855 after being told there would be two American surgeons to greet him, recounted the following scene:

These two surgeons were Dr. Draper of New York, and Dr. Turnipseed of South Carolina. Their habitation was discovered, but it shocked me very 56 William Benton Whisenhunt much to find one of them, Dr. Draper, dead, and his body in the same room with Dr. Turnipseed who was extremely ill with typhus fever. 19

Curiously, when Parke arrived at Simferopol in October of 1855, he recorded the following scene:

With heart overflowing with joy I leaped the fence and was welcomed by my colleagues to their quarters, but my joy was doomed to be somewhat blasted in a moment thereafter for as I entered the door I beheld a sight which made me feel anything but pleasant. Two American surgeons lay in coffins surrounded by their friends who had assembled to pay their tribute of respect. 20

These two doctors had suffered for only a few days before they died from cholera. Both Whitehead and Parke applauded the treatment of their fallen comrades by the Russians. Whitehead noted that:

[A] clergyman of the Greek church habited in his clerical robes, who performed the solemn and impressive burial rights of his church over the body of this young surgeon who had died in the service of Russia, and was my late fellow-countryman; whom it was now my sad privilege to see in death, but whom I had never known or seen during his lifetime. 21

Once in service, each surgeon had a different experience. Some served with other American surgeons, but some only served with Russians. They all entered and left the country at different times as well. Whitehead served for about six months in the spring and summer of 1855 before asking to be released from Russian service; he returned to Europe before heading back to the United States. Interestingly, because of death and illness, he never served with any other American surgeons. Parke, though, served in a more secure area in Simferopol with a group of American surgeons that numbered between three and seven at a time. Some came and went because illness continued to sweep through these surgeons as it did with the troops. Even Parke himself fell ill, but he recovered while other surgeons continued to die.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Whitehead served directly under Dr. Nikolai Pirogov, who supervised all foreign surgeons in Russian service in the Crimean War. Because of the circumstances of the war, some American surgeons never even met Pirogov; others, like Whitehead, worked with him directly. Pirogov was known as the father of modern military medicine. He had contributed significantly to military medical training and treatments, especially concerning anesthetic and amputation. His reputation far exceeded the Russian borders. Pirogov, in part, desired foreign surgeons because he was concerned about having enough quality Russian surgeons. Draper encountered one such Russian surgeon who “did a bungling operation (amputation of the thigh) in which he managed to saw In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 57 my finger, while I was working hard to save the flesh of the patient from his instrument.” 22 Both Whitehead and Parke expressed a certain amount of pleasure with having the opportunity to experience real surgery. Parke recalled that he “visited the hospital with Dr. Johnson, saw all kinds of wounds, one man shot through the lung and doing well. I am well pleased with the prospect of entering such a school for practical surgery.” 23 Whitehead was quite impressed with Pirogov’s innovative surgical techniques, especially his method of amputation for which he was well known. Whitehead also marveled at the use of chloroform as an anesthetic. He recorded that this dangerous drug did not result in any deaths. He credited the Russian surgeons for their care, but he also noted that the surgeons would also give the wounded man a little vodka just before the chloroform “to avert its dangers which practice appeared an excellent one, and during our civil war was followed by me with good results.” 24 Concerning specific medical procedures, Parke’s life was less dramatic because he was further from the front. He noted it rather casually, usually as simple maintenance rather than surgery. For instance, his entry from Novem- ber 6, 1855, read curiously this way:

Took charge of Johnson’s ward today. Opened several large Absesses and dressed sloughing stumps with what they call “Aromatic Spirits”—Also serviced contusions and burns from Bombs. Weather warm as June in Chester County, Pa. America. 25

A few weeks later, he noted the mundane nature of his work by stating “Cloudy but pleasant, more quiet than usual for a Sunday, nothing new in hospital—cut, cut, cut.” 26 After many months of travel, Draper arrived at his first combat post in Kishinev with two other American surgeons, William Joseph Holt of South Carolina and Courtney King of New York. However, there was no action there, which disappointed Draper and his colleagues. When the opportunity arose to be assigned to Odessa and closer to the action, all three surgeons seized it in order to see the war firsthand and to apply their surgical skills closer to the front. After a brief stop in Odessa, Draper and several other American surgeons were then assigned to Simferopol (right in the action), reaching their destination on

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 December 6, 1854. It had taken Draper five months to reach the war zone. Simferopol was a very busy hospital of more than seven thousand Russian soldiers at a time. Sevastopol had been under siege for a couple of months about forty miles away, and many of the wounded were taken to this somewhat safer city. However, within days of his new assignment, Draper and Turnipseed were sent on to Sevastopol while the other American surgeons—Henry, Holt, and King—remained in Simferopol. Draper was repeatedly concerned about Turnipseed’s ailing health as they entered the war zone. Turnipseed was initially suffering from diarrhea, but then he seemed to become weaker, not often able to walk much through the winter of 1854–55. 58 William Benton Whisenhunt In Sevastopol in December of 1854, Draper reported that there were not many wounded Russian soldiers. He believed that there was a possible assault coming from the Allies, but many of the Russian military personnel did not believe it would be in the depths of winter. Yet, the Russians continued to for- tify the city. Draper made his regular rounds for a few dozen wounded soldiers. Most of their wounds had been “cured” by amputation, so much of the work for Draper and his American colleagues was to change dressings and watch out for infections and other diseases. Disease was such a concern that there was a system of quarantine. In the previous month, as he reached Crimea, Draper had to sit in quarantine for ten days before proceeding. While in quarantine, he attended to wounded soldiers, who were mostly amputees. Draper seemed to take the isolation in stride, but by some extraordinary event, the Grand Duke Mikhail visited the quarantined soldiers, distributed money, and spoke with the visiting American surgeon in broken English, apologizing for his fad- ing language ability as he had not spoken it much since he had an English nurse some time ago. Even with these precautions, two of the greatest killers in this conflict were typhus fever and cholera. 27 By January 20, 1855, though, the war had intensified. Overnight, the number of wounded jumped to two hundred soldiers. Draper worked in earnest on the wounded soldiers; the number exploded to three thousand not long after. Difficult weather, a large snowfall, and a thaw that produced mud made it very difficult to move wounded or sick soldiers any distance. Draper’s hospital was located north of the city across the Harbor of Sevastopol. He believed it would be necessary to establish a hospital in the heart of the city, despite the fact that it was under siege. His regard for human suffering comes through in his diary, even when many passages seem rather neutral. As the war grew more intense, he noted:

[A] touching scene presented itself at the Hall of Operations to-day, when two little children of three and five years old were brought in a hammock used for the transportation of the wounded. Their faces were badly burnt with powder and one of them had the hand and arm severely burnt and bruised. A bomb had fallen into the house where they lived, wounding the mother, killing one child and wounding the two above mentioned. 28

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The American surgeons were only a small contingent of the medical forces at the Russian front. There were many Russian medical personnel as well as other foreign surgeons contributing to the Russian cause. On January 26, 1855, Draper wrote about the Sisters of Charity arriving in Sevastopol from St. Petersburg to care for the sick and wounded. A large group had arrived some time ago in Simferopol, but three among them had already died from disease; Draper described them as having “fallen victims to disease and finished their works of love in behalf of human suffering humanity. Their reward is in Heaven.” 29 In the fall of 1854, Grand Duchess Elena Pavlovna called for women to volunteer to be nurses in the war. The volunteers were from varied In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 59 social backgrounds and as groups were organized then sent to Crimea. There was concern over having nurses in the war zone, but Pirogov defended the idea of nurses being at the front. Even though this episode in the war is less known than the more famous British nurse, Florence Nightingale, the Russian nurses provided essential care and suffered terribly themselves from disease. 30 In addition to the accounts of surgical activity, many of the American surgeons’ writings also reflected on Russia’s history and culture. Even though there were three dozen American surgeons, records of their time in Crimea only remain for about half a dozen of them. These are mostly through diaries, letters, and memoirs. There were news stories in major American newspapers like the New York Times and local papers like the Provi- dence Daily Journal that reprinted part of Draper’s diary in 1855. The Nashville Gazette published a lengthy description of the battles by the American surgeon John R. Morton of Tennessee. The most revealing records of the time in Crimea, though, were found in their firsthand accounts. They tell the story of their lives, not just the journey and medical work but also what they thought about Russia and Russians. These sections add much to the understanding of Russian-American relations at this time. 31 Throughout his diary, Draper provided many observations of several aspects of his service while in Crimea. While he was traveling and once in Crimea, he noted that several people asked him about American culture. Some asked more specifically about the book Uncle Tom’s Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe, just published in 1852. 32 A prince he had met on his journey and an officer in Crimea asked if the images depicted in the book accurately represented the American condition of slavery. Draper did not record what his answer was, but he did recount an episode with a musical group that revealed his thoughts on race in America at this time. On several of his stops during his journey, he was entertained by military singing groups. He seemed to like the musical entertainment during his difficult journey. He noted that he:

[W]as forced to remark, on witnessing this diversion, that some of our real American plantation Sambos had been here giving lessons to the Russian soldiers, or that our corn-brake darkies had first learned their feetological art of the Russian soldier. The music had the genuine humdrum of Uncle Ned’s Virginny breakdown, and the dancing of the same toe and heel

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 sort with an endless variety of bodily contortions not excepting absolute somersaults. 33

Draper was from Massachusetts, but his view of African-Americans was fairly common for this time. Even though Draper did not comment directly in his diary about his views of slavery as depicted in Uncle Tom’s Cabin , many notable Russians did. For example, Alexander Herzen criticized the British sympathy for the American slaves while there were many millions of serfs in Russia. Nikolai Chernyshevsky openly attacked American racial theories that tried to assert the inferiority of African-Americans. 34 Perhaps the most notable 60 William Benton Whisenhunt Russian commentator on Stowe’s work was Ivan Turgenev. His Huntsman’s Sketches was also published in 1852 and depicted the life of the Russian serf. Both books illustrated their respective systems of bondage, and both received some credit for helping abolish those systems in the following decade. 35 In the course of Draper’s service, he made other interesting observations. First, he observed deserters. There were several occasions where there were English and French deserters to the Russian side. Draper consistently described them as being bedraggled. They were cold, hungry, overwrought with the war, and poorly supplied. The French who deserted, he noted, were not ethnically French. They were all foreigners in service to the French. He also noted that the British were very poorly supplied. In mid-January of 1855, the British troops did not have proper boots or coats for the bitter winter. 36 Yet, Parke had less sympathy for the British when he concluded “‘let them rip’ America and Russia can flog the world.” 37 Draper further commented on some of the hardships of being in Russia. One of them was the Russian language. He had noted earlier that he had worked on learning some Russian during his journey. He did not seem to find it very easy to learn. He spoke French, which helped him move across southeastern Europe; he was always favorably impressed with the government officials and military officers he encountered who could speak French. He asserted that an American without French would be much more lost than one without Rus- sian. He remarked that Russian was “no small obstacle to the stranger, and if one is to have occasion to use it for only one year, he will find that his time and labor in studying it (if he makes a study of it) will have only enabled him to make a beginning in the language, when he will have no more use for it whatever.” 38 It must be noted that Parke’s diary provided a much more complete and spontaneous view of his service. At times, his comments are raw, irritable, glowing, and intolerant. For instance, throughout the diary, he mentioned his distrust of and disregard for Jews, yet he offered a rather lengthy observation of Islam in the region. He commented on customs, diet, dress, and mosques in a fairly neutral tone. He also criticized some of his fellow surgeons for being hypocritical Christians who condemned the Muslims for their practices while holding themselves in high moral regard despite their own moral failings. 39 It was this kind of spontaneous insight that was not found in Whitehead’s

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 memoir. His account was written about fifty years after his work in Crimea and was intended to establish his legacy as a surgeon of some influence at the end of the nineteenth century. While the memoir provided interesting details of his own service, the work was quite polished, often drifting into the retelling of Russian history from ancient times through his own lifetime. It was clear in his memoir that his own legacy, not only in his Russian adventures, was his primary objective. Ironically, this memoir was unknown for nearly a century. One of the pressing questions for most of the American surgeons was their time in service. Interestingly, Draper reflects on his time in service just before he fell ill and died. In late January of 1855, just before his diary stopped, Draper In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 61 began to calculate his term of service in the Russian army. He had entered Rus- sian service the previous July, but he did not seem to know exactly when his one year of service would end. It took him so long to arrive in the war zone that it was a bit unclear to him. He did seem to find solace in the idea, though, that Nicholas I had issued a decree that one month of service in Sevastopol would equal one year of service. He added that to his six actual months of service and figured that he had a year-and-a-half of service in the country and thought that he could ask for his release. He concluded “but if God will, we shall content ourselves to remain until July next unless the establishment of peace before that time should render our services much less essential than at present.”40 By early 1856, it was clear that this conflict was coming to an end. Several of the American surgeons had already died, several others had left, and the remaining were arranging to leave. Parke fell ill with typhus early in the year, suffered for several weeks, but recovered just before he left the war zone. As the war ended in March of 1856, Parke and several of his fellow surgeons took their generous payments from the Russian government and spent some leisure time in Europe before returning to the United States. Despite the hardships and deaths, Parke and several of his comrades left Russia reluctantly. 41 In conclusion, the American surgeons in Russia during the Crimean War were a small contingent, but it reveals much about Russian-American relations. The 1850s in both countries was a tumultuous time. Both countries were wrestling with the issue of bonded people. Both countries were experi- encing territorial expansion and overseas tensions. None of these American surgeons had any special interest in Russia or background with Russia before venturing there. Russia itself was a secondary motivation for their being in the country. The existing records from the American surgeons do not reveal any definable political agenda. As noted before, most sought adventure, money, experience, or all of the above when they agreed to service in Crimea. As their firsthand accounts reveal, many of them received what they were looking for. Like many in this war, the American surgeons suffered terrible losses because of disease. At least ten of the thirty-six surgeons died in Crimea. Yet for those who survived, especially Parke and Whitehead who both served in the U.S. Civil War as surgeons (on opposite sides) and lived into the twentieth century, this experience shaped their future careers. Without question, the most fascinating aspects of this connection were not

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 necessarily the military and medical sides of their writings but the other reflections this group of Americans had about Russia in the mid-nineteenth century. Remembering that these surgeons were fairly ignorant of Russian history and culture, their views of Russia were at times insightful, erroneous, ignorant, and even bigoted. They addressed issues of religion, poverty, serfdom, diplomacy, literature, culture, and much more. However, despite the hardships, these surgeons seemed to do the job they were asked to do and grew to love the people and culture they encountered. Even a small episode like this confirms the idea laid out in Norman Saul’s critical work in this area that Russians and Ameri- cans in this era were truly “distant friends.” 62 William Benton Whisenhunt Notes 1. Eufrosina Dvoichenko-Markov, “Americans in the Crimean War,” Russian Review 13, no. 2 (April 1954): 137–154; Norman E. Saul, Distant Friends: The United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 1991), 198–99, 218–36; and Trevor Royle, Crimea: The Great Crimean War, 1854–1856 (New York: Palgrave, 2000), ix–xi, 1–11. 2. Saul, Distant Friends , 196–97. 3. Ibid., 199–200. 4. Ibid., 222–235.; Dvoichenko-Markov, “Americans in the Crimean War,” 140–45; Albert Parry, “American Doctors in the Crimean War,” South Atlantic Quarterly 54, no. 4 (October 1955): 478–90; Joseph Bradley, Guns for the Tsar: American Technology and the Small Arms Industry in Nineteenth-Century Russia (DeKalb, IL: Northern Illinois University Press, 1990), 43–61; and Matthew Moten, The Delafield Commission and the American Military Profession (College Station, TX: Texas A&M University Press, 2000), 108–166. 5. Charles Ross Parke, “Our European Tour: Diary of Charles Ross Parke, M.D., during his Trip to Russia and His Medical Service in the Russian Army,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress (October 20, 1855), 30. 6. Parry, “American Doctors in the Crimean War,” 480–85. 7. Ibid., 480–90; Dvoichenko-Markov, “Americans in the Crimean War,” 140–45; and Saul, Distant Friends , 222–25. 8. Charles Ross Parke, Dreams to Dust: A Diary of the California Gold Rush, 1849– 1850 , ed. James E. Davis (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1989), xvi–xxv; and John Robinson, The Biographical Record of McLean County, Illinois (Chicago: S. J. Clarke Publishing, 1899), 65–72. Parke kept an extensive diary of his travels to California during the Gold Rush. This diary is simultaneously mundane, descriptive, and insightful about the terrain, weather, local conditions, and much more. He was well aware of the significance of such a journey. He provided interesting observations on Native Americans, women they encountered, and outbreaks of cholera. His diary concluded with more insights into the internal political realities in Nicaragua in 1850. The above edition of his diary is actually combined with other observations from one of his travel companions, David Carnes. 9. Parke, “Our European Tour,” 22. 10. Ibid., 24. 11. Ibid., 28. 12. “The Late Dr. Isaac Draper” New York Herald, n.d., included in “Notes of Travel from the Diary of the late Isaac Draper, Jr. M.D. Surgeon in the Service of His Majesty The Emperor of Russia at the Siege of Sebastopol by his brother Seth Draper,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 13. Dvoichenko-Markov, “Americans in the Crimean War,” 137–45; Parry, “Ameri- can Doctors in the Crimean War,” 478–90; Edward A. Raymond, “American Doc- Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 tors in the Crimean War,” Connecticut Medicine 38, no. 7 (1974): 373–76; and N. N. Bolkovitinov and V. N. Ponomarev, “Amerikanskie vrachi v Krymskoi voine,” SShA: Ekonomika. Politika. Ideologiia. 6 (June 1980): 63–69. 14. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 1–33. 15. Ibid., 44. For more on the diplomacy of the Crimean War, see Ivan Kurilla, Zaokeanskie Partnery: Amerika i Rossiia v 1830–1850-e gody (Volgograd, 2005), 113–117. 16. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 45. 17. Ibid., 69. 18. Saul, Distant Friends, 210–214. 19. William Riddick Whitehead, The Adventures of an American Surgeon (Bethesda, MD: Whitehead Books, 2002), 272. In Service to the Tsar: American Surgeons 63 20. Parke, “Our European Tour,” 33. 21. Whitehead, Adventures , p. 273. 22. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 118; “Pirogov (Niko- lai Ivanovich),” Entsiklopedicheskii Slovar’ 13 (St. Petersburg, 1898), 651; Nikolai Pirogov, Sevastopolskie pis’ma i vospominaniia (Moscow, 1950); S.E. Hadda, “Niko- lai Ivanovich Pirogov,” Journal of the International College of Surgeons 36, no. 1 (July 1961): 118–132. 23. Parke, “Our European Tour,” 34. 24. Whitehead, Adventures , p. 282. Chloroform was developed in the 1830s and 1840s by American and Scottish doctors who were trying to find a method of sedation for surgery. Chloroform began to be used in surgery in the late 1840s, even though the dosage was difficult to measure because this drug was inhaled to produce an unconscious state. Many died from the use of chloroform. 25. Parke, “Our European Tour,” 35. 26. Ibid., 37. 27. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 101, 115–119; and John Shelton Curtiss, Russia’s Crimean War (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1979), 459–468. 28. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 124–125. 29. Ibid., 126. 30. J. S. Curtiss, “Russian Sisters of Mercy in the Crimea, 1854–55,” Slavic Review 25, no. 1 (1966): 84–95; and Alan Palmer, The Banner of Battle: The Story of the Crimean War (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1987), 135–48. 31. “Sevastopol, Dec. 26, 1854,” Providence Daily Journal (March 1, 1855); and “America,” The Times (London) , (October 8, 1855): 7. 32. John MacKay, True Songs of Freedom: Uncle Tom’s Cabin in Russian Culture and Society (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2013), 13. Stowe’s work was not published in a Russian translation until 1857, but it had already appeared in more than a dozen other languages by 1855. 33. Ibid., 85. 34. Max M. Laserson, The American Impact on Russia, 1784–1917 (New York: Collier Books, 1962), 261, 305. 35. David Korn, “Turgenev in the Nineteenth Century America,” Russian Review 27, no. 4 (October, 1968): 461–65. 36. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 120–22, 126. 37. Parke, “Our European Tour,” 46. 38. Ibid, 129. 39. Ibid., 88–102. 40. “Notes of Travel,” Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, 128. 41. Parry, “American Doctors,” 478–85. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 5 Abolition of Serfdom in Russia and American Newspaper and Journal Opinion

Ivan Kurilla

The view of Russian-American relations from a constructivist perspective 1 explains the construction of the Other’s image in public opinion using several key factors, including a cultural set of references and the political and social agenda of their own society that serves as a filter for the information provided by the Other society. At the same time, a given society defines itself by comparing and juxtaposing to the Other, which is chosen as a “Constitutive Other”; it “uses” the Other to draw its own limits, solve its own problems, and raise its own self-esteem. 2 The image of the Other is relatively stable because a cultural set of references changes very slowly, and it usually takes decades for the core agenda issues to change to alter the habitual use of the Other. How- ever, in a revolutionary situation when the identity of the society is shaken, and home agendas are smashed and replaced by different problems and on a much greater scale, the opportunity appears to change the Other’s image and the mode of its use. During much of the nineteenth century, Russia played the role of one of the “Others” for the Americans; the use of the Russian example was less frequent than that of English or French, but when Americans needed to demonstrate or underline their core social values, such as democracy and republicanism, the Russian autocracy and empire immediately came to mind. Moreover, by the 1850s, there were also social institutions that made the two societies closer in the eyes both of critics and defenders: slavery in the United States and serfdom in Russia provided many instances for comparison. Both institutions disappeared within a short period of time, which was also marked by

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 huge social and political upheaval combined with a national identity crisis. In this chapter, the problem of the American reaction to the news of Russia’s emancipation of serfs will be addressed. There are at least three reasons why the analysis of the attitudes of American society to the abolition of serfdom is important. First, the situation helps us to understand better the evolution of “mainstream” Northern opinion during the Civil War that moved from suppressing abolitionist propaganda to embracing emancipation of the slaves in the South. The information about the serfs’ emancipation could not be ignored as easily as the abolitionist propaganda was called “radical” and neglected. Abolition of Serfdom in Russia 65 Second, this was the moment when Russia radically changed itself and eliminated the institution widely used in America for its own identity construction. Such a turn of events required subsequent changes not only in the American image of Russia, but it facilitated changes of the American Self; Russian reform helped the American one. And third, it was a rare situation in American-Russian interaction when Russia was perceived as going ahead of the United States in reforming its society; more often, America served as a model for Russian reforms. The opinion was that, throughout the history of her relations with the United States, Rus- sia was the pupil and borrowed advanced technological and social innovations from America. There are many examples to prove this view: indeed, Russia invited American engineers to build her railways in the nineteenth century and tractor plants in the twentieth, and her difficult road from autocracy to democratic rule was at least partially inspired by the example of the United States. Even upon the receipt of first news about the planned emancipation of serfs, American observers viewed it “as a natural component of the modernization and liberation that Russia was pursuing with American support and assistance.” 3 However, history proved not to be so linear, and the Russians were ahead of Americans in abolishing its institution of personal dependence and unfree labor. How American society dealt with this lagging behind is an interesting research question. Public opinion in this chapter is analyzed mostly based on newspaper and magazine articles; thanks to several programs of digitalizing nineteenth-century periodicals, they are available now for a researcher far from the major deposi- tories. In antebellum America, as well as in Russia on the eve of emancipation of serfs, the existence of social institutes of forced labor and personal bondage, slavery and serfdom, brought the two countries even closer to each other. Not- withstanding all the socioeconomic differences between the two institutions, both their defenders and critics used examples of the other country to support their positions. To be historically precise, we should distinguish between the two: serfs in Russia were not private property of nobility in the sense that slaves were in the South of the United States. Russian serfs possessed some property themselves that could include a house, cattle, and agricultural tools, and they had societal institutions of their own (peasant community) but were attached to the soil that belonged to the noble. Slaves were themselves property of a

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 slaveholder and had neither property nor organizations of their own. And probably the most important difference was that the racist-minded Southerners in the mid-nineteenth-century serfs were white, while slaves were black. How- ever, there were many common features as well. 4 Russians and Americans approached these similarities according to their respective political positions, emphasizing either the evil of both serfdom and slavery or singling out one of them as relatively beneficial. As early as 1830, one of the leading American statesmen of the first half of the nineteenth century, Henry Clay, advised a young traveler departing for Russia that a “subject which might usefully engage your attention is that of the condition of the 66 Ivan Kurilla Serfs of the North, with the view of reasoning upon it in relation to that of our African slaves.” 5 Another traveler, Henry Wikoff, who visited Russia in the late 1830s lamented: “A great outcry was made over our enslaved blacks; but here were millions of the Caucasian race in bondage since centuries, and nobody in Europe even mentioned it. What a funny world!” 6 Though in the 1830s such mutual interest was rather incidental, it was steadily increasing, along with intensification of political debates and public awareness about the problem of the two “special institutions.” Finding common features thus became a popular procedure among critics as well as defenders of the systems of forced labor. Thus, antebellum Southern intellectual George Fitzhugh called Russia along with the American South “the only conservative section of civilized Christendom.” 7 For many critics of slavery, Russian serfdom was a point of comparison, but it was better than American bondage: “however curtailed of his natural rights the Russian serf may be, his condition is still far more preferable to that of a Negro slave in our own country,” wrote the author of an article in North American Review in April 1856. 8 The political agitation reached its high in the second half of the 1850s during the “antebellum period” in the United States and on the eve of great reforms in the Russian Empire. In the fall of 1857, young intellectual Andrew Dickson White returned from his post of attaché to the U.S. legation in St. Petersburg and lectured to his compatriots on the evils of serfdom. White recollected in his Autobiography that he sketched:

[I]n broad strokes, the effects of the serf system, effects not merely upon the serfs, but upon the serf owners, and upon the whole condition of the empire. I made it black indeed, as it deserved, and though not a word was said regarding things in America, every thoughtful man present must have felt that it was the strongest indictment against our own system of slavery which my powers enabled me to make. It would have been easy to attack slavery and thus at once shut the minds and hearts of a large majority of the audience. But I felt then, as I have generally felt since, that the first and best thing to do is to set people at thinking, and to let them discover, or think that they discover, the truth for themselves. 9

The Southern press continued to use the existence of serfdom as an argu-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ment for the continuation of slavery until very eve of the Emancipation. Thus, in January of 1861, southern newspapers hastened to reprint an opinion of some French defender of slavery: “Mr. Cassagnac asks why in particular M. Jourdan should reproach the United States for countenancing slavery, when, at the same time, as from ages immemorial, slavery exists in Africa, Asia, and even Europe the serfdom of Russia as a prominent instance.” 10 However, the preparation of the Emancipation Decree in Russia did not escape the attention of the Southern ideologues. In this context, they preferred to separate serfdom and slavery in order to minimize the possible effect of Russian Emancipation on the American opinion. Thus, an affluent South Abolition of Serfdom in Russia 67 Carolinian planter and influential politician Francis Pickens, who arrived in St. Petersburg as U.S. minister in 1858, reflected in his dispatches about the preparation for the abolition of serfdom in Russia. In the summer of 1859, he wrote to Secretary of State Lewis Cass that the Russian government:

[F]ound itself in a position that it [was] extremely difficult to stand still, and still more difficult to move forward on that subject [abolition of serfdom]. The truth is if the Government progresses on that question, it will be placed where the Emperor of the French now stands, at the head of a powerful principle exciting the great masses, and may be regarded in the light Napoleon is, as being at the head of a democratic despotism. Under such circumstances no combination of power can permanently suppress the uprising of the unprivileged classes all over Europe.

Pickens went on to predict the time when “the Feudal system shall be finally overthrown throughout Europe.” 11 Linking serfdom to feudalism, Pick- ens thereby distinguished it from American slavery; he made no analogies that American slavery was not at all a feudal phenomenon. On February 19, 1861, Russian Emperor Alexander II abolished serfdom. This coincided with when the arguments about the fate of slavery in the United States reached its peak and the Southern states began to secede, making the Civil War inevitable. The news of the abolition of serfdom also arrived at the time of Abraham Lincoln’s inauguration. In fact, American newspapers published the text of Alexander II’s emancipation decree on the day of the attack on Fort Sumter, April 12, 1861. 12 Obviously, events of the Civil War overshadowed the effect of the information from the distant empire. During the first period of his presidency, Lincoln tried to avoid the theme of slavery and even promised to keep it intact in order to keep or later reestablish the Union. However, no immediate comment about the Russian serf emancipation can be found in the official publications of President Lincoln or his Cabinet. During that period, the disposition of the European powers toward sides of the American Civil War appeared much more important for the federal press than considerations on the abolition themselves. In September 1861, the New York Tribune commented on the Alexander Gorchakov message calling for peace on the American continent, juxtaposing the policy of serf emancipation

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 in Russia and a presumed attempt at defending American slaveholders:

While the Emperor of Russia is engaged in the emancipation of the serfs of his own empire he advises us badly if he could mean to counsel us to submit to an ignoble peace with rebels who have taken up arms as the holders of slaves for the purpose of securing supreme power in their own hands, and subjecting freemen to their will. 13

Not surprisingly, Southern newspapers warned against the calamities that the abolition of serfdom would entail. “Its effect is to reduce at once to beggary 68 Ivan Kurilla nearly the whole of the Russian nobility, hitherto the ruling power in the State,” wrote an author in the Richmond (Va.) Dispatch. “The emancipation, therefore, destroys, at a single blow, so much capital and so much credit. This can not be done in any part of the world, without producing a shock which must be felt throughout the whole range of civilized society.” The author predicted “commercial revulsions,” concluding, “There never was such an experiment before upon the prosperity of a nation.” The article proceeds with the claim that a Negro or Russian “will not work, when released from bondage,” and concluded with an apocalyptic vision of Russia of Alexander II, with “his revenues falling off, agriculture neglected, manufactures brought to a dead halt, and his whole empire threatened with ruin.” 14 The tone of the Southern press quickly changed: Russia was no longer an argument for the preservation of slavery, and her example was not relevant to the American problem. The major argument in inapplicability of the Russian reform to the American problem was racial: “There is no inherent distinction between the master and his serf,” quoted the Living Age from the Satur- day Review in April 1861. “There is no barrier like that which race builds up between the white men and the negro.” 15 The Atlantic Monthly in July 1861 wrote ironically that “Alexander has not been so bad as the Abolitionists have drawn him. Like another illustrious personage, he is not half so black as he is painted. Nay, he is not black at all. He worships the white theory, and might run for the Montgomery Congress in South Carolina without any danger of being numbered among the victims of Lynch-law.” The author concluded that it is “a sore subject with our pro-slavery people, this faithlessness of Russia to the cause of human oppression.” 16 As fervent opponents of the Southern views, the abolitionist press praised the decision of a Russian tsar. A weekly publication of the Ohio American Anti-Slavery Society, the Anti-Slavery Bugle, asked its readers:

Where are we now? Russia has shaken off serfdom. . . . Can we much longer call our country the model of the world? But let us once be rid of this drag of slavery let us show the world what a free people can really do in the way of self-legislation when freed from clogs and hindrances, and we may again have reason to be proud. 17

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The doubt in the ability of the United States to serve as the model for the rest of the mankind was a serious challenge to American identity and demanded action. Another newspaper that took emancipation of Russian serfs as an argument was the Christian Examiner, widely read and reprinted by local papers as a liberal Christian newspaper close to the transcendental- ists. Criticizing those Americans who found slavery “consistent with Chris- tianity and civilization,” the author wondered, “If American slavery is a good, just and Christian institution, there are no words in our language strong enough to express the excellences of that which Russia is blindly throwing away.” 18 Abolition of Serfdom in Russia 69 Another abolitionist publication, Douglass Monthly, collected and reprinted any news pertaining to the goal of putting an end to slavery. Thus, it published an extract from a speech by Hon. Gerrit Smith on April 27, 1861. At a meeting held in Peterboro, Smith linked the Russian example to the American future: “Russia has declared the liberty of her twenty millions of slaves; and Amer- ica must now give up her four millions.”19 The comparison gained popularity among radical speakers in the North. Senator Charles Sumner called for the emancipation of slaves by the government in order to avoid a bloody uprising: “This very year 20,000,000 of Russian serfs have peacefully passed out of the house of bondage. Cheered by this great example, let us not forget that it began from above.” 20 That was certainly a call for President Lincoln to act. Despite the continuous silence of the authorities, the similarity of the problems of serfdom and slavery and the radical decision made by the Russian monarch raised much interest in the United States. As we saw, the Southern press predicted economic collapse and even revolution in Russia as a result of the emancipation, while the abolitionists’ press cheered the news and called Amer- ica to follow the Russian example. The news of the peasant uprisings in the aftermath of the czar’s ukase also reached American shores and caused questions. During the first winter of the Civil War, the New York Tribune published a detailed article in order “to reconcile conflicting opinions as to the success” of the emancipation. “The serfs, especially those more remote from the capital, buried in the recesses of the Empire, received the news of the decree much as the negroes of Tennessee heard of the election of Lincoln,” started the author of the article, citing some “anonymous gentleman” who recently returned to America after spending some time in Russia. “Delay, postponement, transition periods, were a juggle of the owner. The Czar had decreed liberty to his children. The inferior despot who tyrannized over them was thwarting the will of his Imperial master, and cheating the subject of his newly-granted rights.” The author immediately applied the lesson to the American soil: “Dissatisfaction on the part of the nobles had been anticipated. Why the serfs should also have rebelled has been ill understood. In dealing with our own problem, it concerns us to consider alike the encouragement and the warning, of such an example.”21 During the first year after Alexander II’s ukase, the Russian example became one of the major tools of the abolitionist propaganda in America. On February 22, 1862, the Christian Recorder published another article calling for the aboli-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 tion of slavery. However, the title of the text dealt with the same comparison, “Russia and America”:

It would be difficult to mention two countries, which in all their internal relations appear to present a greater contrast to each other than Russia and America. The contrast is so glaring, that it seems a much more difficult task to point out the affinities and analogies existing between them. But the very time in which we live offers to those two countries a true and strong inducement for mutual sympathy. It is the crisis through which both countries are now going, and which, in spite of all the eminent diversities 70 Ivan Kurilla between them, turns upon one and the same great and difficult question, slavery in America, serfdom in Russia. It is a most remarkable fact that our government, constructed on the most liberal basis, is involved in a terrible struggle about slavery—a thing in so many respects similar to that peculiar institution of despotic Russia—serfdom. . . . Like Russia, we are now engaged with the final settlement of this most perplexing of all our internal difficulties. 22

In 1864, the Loyal Publication Society of New York published an account by an English missionary, Rev. J. Lang, who visited Russia in 1863. He observed that the first reason for the deep interest that the serf emancipation had caused was the fact that “[t]he anti-slavery cause receives powerful encouragement from it.” 23 In September 1862, Lincoln set his mind on abolition, issuing a Preliminary Emancipation Declaration. That same month, the Christian Recorder published a detailed article about the emancipation of serfs in Russia. The article described all the preliminary measures taken by the Russian State in the reigns of Alexander I, Nicholas I, and especially in the first years of Alexander II. The article concluded with another comparison:

There are probably no two men in all the world whose position is more trying than that of Alexander II, Emperor of all the Russias, and Abra- ham Lincoln, President of the United States. Their positions are even very much alike; for although civil war has not yet actually commenced in Russia , no one can assure us that it may not on any day burst forth. In both cases slavery lies at the bottom of the trouble; in Russia that of 23,000,000 or 25,000,000, less or more, of white people; in the United States that of 4,000,000, or thereabouts, of black or colored people. 24

Soon after, Andrew Dickson White developed his lecture of 1856 into an article, published in Atlantic Monthly in November 1862, containing the story of the serf emancipation: “whatever the after-process, THE SERFS ARE FREE. The career before Russia is hopeful indeed; emancipation of her serfs has set her fully in that career,” he observed. 25 After Lincoln finally signed the Emancipation Declaration that took effect

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 on January 1, 1863, the Russian example was used with increased frequency. “The Czar of Russia set the noble example, and Abraham Lincoln has followed in his wake,” exclaimed a writer in the White Cloud Kansas Chief on January 1, 1863. 26 At that point, however, journalists highlighted not the emancipation itself but the beneficial results of the decision made by the Russian tsar. The Christian Recorder informed its readers in August 1863 that:

The emancipation of the serfs in Russia has produced a wonderful effect in regard to education. In one district, which formerly had ten village schools and 256 pupils, there are now 1,123 schools and 16,387 pupils, Abolition of Serfdom in Russia 71 in another the schools have increased from 20 to 277, and the pupils from 375 to 4,192; and in a third, the schools have advanced from 308 to 1,238, and the pupils from 14,596 to 30,000. 27

With the Civil War logic pushing Lincoln’s government to political radicalization, the story of the successful and peaceful reform in Russia was even more tempting as an argument for the abolition of slavery. After the decision was made, Abraham Lincoln made a special effort to use the Russian example as a propaganda tool. When chargé d’affaires of the U.S. mission in St. Petersburg, writer and traveler Bayard Taylor, returned to America, he lectured about the Russians who put an end to the institute of involuntary labor by peaceful means. In December 1863, Taylor delivered three lectures in Washington on Russia, her people, and her place in history. President Abraham Lincoln attended Taylor’s public appearance on December 17 and immediately realized the propagandistic potential of the lectures. The lecture was devoted to the abolition of Russian serfdom, and Lincoln was delighted by the argument. He urged Taylor to continue: “I think a good lecture or two on ‘Serfs, Serfdom, and Emancipation in Russia’ would be both interesting and valuable. Could not you get up such a thing?”—wrote Lincoln to Taylor on December 25, 1863. The writer replied that he fully understood “the interest of the subject you propose, and desire to present it, in some way, to the public. [T]he complete success of the scheme of emancipation in Russia has much significance for this nation at the present time.” 28 By the time Lincoln attended Taylor’s presentation, the latter had already delivered many lectures throughout the country. One of those was attended by the officers of a Russian fleet that arrived in New York Harbor in 1863. Thus, the Russian Empire was recognized as a model for the solution of the most profound American problem. By 1864, the abolition of Slavery was already an accomplished mission. The story of the emancipation of Russian serfs could not be used anymore for the purpose of abolitionist propaganda, though the power of the comparison was still felt. We may see how the comparison of emancipation and abolition was by that time used to achieve very different goals. On September 24, 1864, the Christian Recorder discussed serfdom and slavery: “Of all the events which will make the present lustrum memorable in all coming history, the two greatest, as affecting the human race and the prom-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ulgation of the pure principles of Christianity, are the abolition of serfdom in Russia, and the emancipation of the slaves in America.” The comparison it offered was not in America’s favor: “in Russia, it was the work of long years of legislation; in America, it was produced by war commenced to continue, extend and perpetuate the system of slavery.” In the wake of the 1864 presidential elections, the author of the article attacked President Lincoln personally, insisting that the Russian tsar behaved wiser:

The present era has shown the wisdom of the Autocrat, and the prescience as well as the folly of the President. Russia, by peaceful legislation, without 72 Ivan Kurilla war or bloodshed has abolished serfdom, and is now enjoying the blessings of that act which insures the safety of the government and the stability of the empire: America was deaf to the calls of humanity, hastened not at the voice of justice, and delayed emancipation until rebellion rent the land, and, amid the horrors of war, she is now reaping the fruit of her sin.29

The comparison was still favorable to Russia but critical to the president. For a scholar of the Russian-American relations, more interesting would be the return of the traditional image of Russia in the publications of 1864. The North American Review in its January 1864 issue published a review of the book by Goldwin Smith, Does the Bible Sanction American Slavery? The point of the author was the juxtaposition of a “semibarbarous” Russia that abolished serfdom and “civilized” America that needed a Civil War to emancipate slaves: “Even Russia, semi-barbarous as yet, has recently abolished serfdom, a very different thing from African slavery, because the serf had rights, and the relations between him and his master was the relation of man to man, not of man to merchandise.” 30 Even when making a point of Russia being ahead of the United States in the particular decision, the author used juxtaposition and called it “semibarbarous” as opposed to “civilized” United States. Such a usage reinforced the image of Russia as a society and nation inferior and opposite to America. During the next period of history, when serfdom and slavery were no more, that juxtaposition remained and shaped the relations between the two countries. Several years later, in 1867, the same magazine published a special article about Russian emancipation. It started with the doubtful statement: “ALMOST unnoticed amid the excitement of our threatening calamities came the report in March 1861 that Russia had proclaimed emancipation to the serfs within her borders.” Even more striking was, however, the assertion that when the news about the end of Serfdom arrived, “no one thought of connecting it with our own experience.” The author again underlined the difference, not similarity: “It is interesting, from higher motives than that of curiosity, to look across the waters and watch the working out of a problem similar to ours under a government so diametrically opposite.” 31 The two stories of abolition and emancipation in the 1860s intervened and reinforced each other. We now see how American newspaper opinion used them for domestic political goals and how the stories began to be retold just years after they became history. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Notes 1. There are several scholars who use constructivist methodology in the study of the history of Amerian-Russian relations; among them are David Foglesong, Ted Hopf, Victoria Zhuravleva, and David Engerman. They address mostly the late nineteenth century and the twentieth century. 2. See, for example, Iver B. Neumann, Uses of the Other: “The East” in European Identity Formation (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 1999). 3. Norman E. Saul, Distant Friends: The United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Law- rence: University Press of Kansas, 1991), 314–15. Abolition of Serfdom in Russia 73 4. See Peter Kolchin, Unfree Labor: American Slavery and Russian Serfdom (Cam- bridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University, 1987). 5. Clay to J.B. Harrison, January 3, 1830, in The Papers of Henry Clay, edited by James H. Hopkins, 11 vols. (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1959–91), 8, 167. 6. Wikoff, The Reminiscences of an Idler (New York: Fords, Howard & Hulbert, 1880), 207. 7. Fitzhugh, “Southern Thought,” De Bow’s Review 23, 4 (October 1857): 343. By contrast, Fitzhugh called the Pope “a radical reformer” and Louis Napoleon and [Queen] Victoria “half-way socialists.” 8. “Slavery in Russia,” The North American Review 421 (April, 1856): 318. 9. Autobiography of Andrew Dickson White, 2 vols. (New York: n.p., 1905), 1, 80–81. In an interesting historical parallel, in 1857 Russian professor Dmitri Kache- novskii lectured at Kharkov University about the vices of Negro slavery in order to condemn Russian serfdom. The strategy of political criticism independently chosen by the two educators were similar despite the fact that the Russian professor tried to bypass official censorship, while the American aimed at breaking through mainstream public rejection of abolitionist propaganda. 10. “The Institution of Slavery in French Point of View,” Memphis Daily Appeal , Janu- ary 27, 1861, citing the New York Herald (also in Nashville Union and American ), January 29, 1861. 11. Francis Pickens to Lewis Cass, July 5, 1859, Diplomatic Despatches, Russia, National Archives, vol. 18. 12. See, for example, “Emancipation of Serfs in Russia,” Boston Daily Advertiser, April 12, 1861; “The Emancipation of the Serfs—Imperial Decree,” The Christian Recorder, April 13, 1861. 13. “Russia and the United States,” New York Tribune, September 9, 1861. 14. “A Virginian Howl of Indignation against the Emancipation of Serfdom in Rus- sia,” Cincinnati Daily Press, April 25, 1861. 15. “The Emancipation of Serfs in Russia,” The Living Age 69, 879 (April 6, 1861): 59. 16. “Emancipation in Russia,” Atlantic Monthly 8, 45 (July 1861): 44. 17. “A Woman’s View of It,” Anti-Slavery Bugle , March 2, 1861. 18. “Serfdom in Russia (from Christian Examiner), Marshall County Republican, April 4, 1861. 19. “Gerrit Smith on the Rebellion,” Douglass’ Monthly , June 1861. 20. “Speech of Hon. Charles Sumner on the Emancipation of the Slaves,” Douglass’ Monthly , November 1861. 21. “Emancipation in Russia,” New York Tribune , January 1862. 22. “Russia and America,” The Christian Recorder , February 22, 1862. 23. J. Lang, “Results of the Serf Emancipation in Russia” (New York: Loyal Publica- tion Society, 1864), 47, 4. 24. “Emancipation in Russia,” The Christian Recorder , September 6, 1862. 25. White, “Development and Overthrow of the Russian Serf-System,” Atlantic Monthly , November 1862, 551. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 26. “The Year of Jubilee,” White Cloud Kansas Chief , January 1, 1863. 27. The Christian Recorder , August 8, 1863. 28. Abraham Lincoln to Taylor, December 25, 1863; Taylor to Lincoln, December 28, 1863, http://quod.lib.umich.edu/l/lincoln/lincoln7/1:167?rgn’div1;view’fulltext 29. “Cosmopolit: Serfdom and Slavery,” The Christian Recorder , September 24, 1864. 30. Goldwin Smith, Does the Bible Sanction American Slavery? (Cambridge, MA: Sever and Francis, 1863), Art. 2; The North American Review 98: 202 (January 1864): 48. 31. “Serfdom and Emancipation Laws in Russia,” The North American Review 105, 216 (July 1867): 41. 6 Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy A Reexamination of the Perkins Claim

Lee A. Farrow

In 1858, merchant mariner Captain Benjamin Perkins attempted to sue the Russian government for over $385,000 for arms and powder contracts alleg- edly made and then broken by Russian agents during the Crimean War. The episode bankrupted Perkins; in desperation, he accepted a meager $200 as a settlement from one of the agents. Though the claim temporarily vanished, particularly with the death of Perkins, it reappeared in 1867, when the United States agreed to purchase Alaska and Perkins’s widow appealed to Congress for help. The resurrection of this claim was so problematic for Russian-American relations that it threatened to derail the Alaska deal and later contributed to the recall of a Russian ambassador. It went beyond the scope of one man’s family to eventually include other businessmen, journalists, politicians, and diplomats. The Perkins affair involved legal maneuvering, political scandal, and international diplomacy and reached its peak during a critical point in Russian-American relations. Many historians have dismissed the claim as a fraud, though there is much evidence to the contrary. Space does not permit a complete assessment of the case’s validity, but a lawsuit of some twenty-five years that touched on so many aspects of Russian-American relations does deserve a reexamination. 1  The Perkins affair is a complicated tale. It began in June 1855 when Benja- min Perkins was in New York City and met Charles Rackelwicz, a man who claimed to be an agent and courier of the Russian government. According to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Perkins’s deposition, Rackelwicz told him that Russia was in need of arma- ments and powder and that it was his mission to procure the desired items. Presenting various documents that seemed to indicate that he was telling the truth, he suggested that Perkins could supply the goods. Perkins replied that if the deal could be arranged and approved by Baron von Stoeckl, the Russian minister in the United States, and if it was “sufficiently remunerative,” then he would be interested. 2 Several days later, Rackelwicz invited Perkins and his associate, Dr. Walter Kidder, to the Metropolitan Hotel in New York to meet Stoeckl, who seemed fully informed of all that had already transpired. Assuring Perkins that the deal Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 75 would be profitable, Stoeckl asked Perkins to draft several proposals based on information provided by Rackelwicz, including the desired quantity of arms and powder. The following day, Perkins offered Stoeckl two proposals, each with a different arrangement as to who would provide the capital investment and how much Perkins would be paid. Stoeckl asked for the proposals in writing, with costs itemized, since he was headed back to Washington, D.C. and wanted to get them on the next steamer; he assured Perkins that the Rus- sian government would accept one of his proposals within 60 days. He urged Perkins to begin production immediately because powder of “government strength” in such a large quantity would have to be specially manufactured. Perkins agreed and delivered the written proposals as requested. 3 Perkins then began to fill the order for powder, using Kidder as his agent. Kidder met with G. G. Newhall and Company to contract 150 tons powder, at 17 cents a pound, to be ready to ship within 60 days. Kidder then went to Low- ell, Massachusetts, to contract with Talbot and Company for the necessary amount of “ground logwood” for the packing of the powder. In August 1855, Perkins went to Washington to meet Stoeckl. The minister still did not have an answer from his government, but he indicated his belief that one of the proposals would be accepted. With this assurance, Perkins returned to New York and continued his preparations, purchasing a small ship called the Sea Breeze. Meanwhile, Newhall reported that the powder was packed according to Stoeckl’s specifications and waiting in Boston Harbor. Stoeckl assured Per- kins that once he had cleared U.S. ports “as if laden with cotton, rice and logwood,” he would sail to Danzig, Memel, or Stetten, where Stoeckl would have made arrangements for him “to pass the custom-house at either of those ports with the same invoice as you clear from the American ports, without any prying curiosity on the part of the revenue officers at those places.” 4 It was at this time that Stoeckl withdrew himself from the negotiations, referring Perkins to Rackelwicz and Captain Otto Lilienfeldt, an “ordnance officer” just arrived from St. Petersburg. All of this made Perkins a bit ner- vous, but he had received so many assurances that he decided to meet with Lilienfeldt. When Lilienfeldt began to change the terms of the earlier agreement, however, Perkins attempted to see Stoeckl again. The Russian minister seemed determined to avoid Perkins, however, and left New York without leaving him a message. Now Perkins felt that Stoeckl had defrauded him and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 violated their contract. Faced with these circumstances, Perkins proceeded to Boston and began to try and sort the situation out as best he could; however, the deals he had made were far beyond his means. Eventually, Perkins met with Stoeckl several times, but all the minister would give were “guarded, evasive remarks.” Realizing that he would get no help from Stoeckl, Perkins began to make plans to travel to St. Petersburg. 5 The powder contract was not the only violated deal, however. When Per- kins had first met with Lilienfeldt, the latter had indicated that while he could not purchase powder, he was authorized to buy arms and discussed a possible contract with Perkins. The men had no further contact until after 76 Lee A. Farrow the violation of the powder contract, when Perkins was preparing to go to Russia. At this meeting, Perkins suggested that he might bring with him to St. Petersburg a sample of the arms he could provide. Over the next month and a half, the two men met several times to discuss the specific needs of the Rus- sian government. Perkins altered the guns accordingly, and the two men met again in Hartford, Connecticut, on January 12, 1856. At that time, Lilienfeldt approved of the modified muskets, and the men negotiated for Perkins to alter 35,000 guns within five months, though the payment was less than Perkins had hoped, Lilienfeldt sweetened the deal by promising that he “would furnish inspectors here, and have the said arms inspected before they were packed for sailing; and that each arm upon which they put their mark would be accepted without further inspection after their arrival in Russia, ‘no matter if it was a stick of wood, provided it had the inspector’s brand upon it.’” After some consideration, Perkins agreed, and a written memo of the arrangement was signed in duplicate, each man taking a copy. Both men agreed that the deal should remain open for a week to give Perkins the time to make sure he could carry out his end of the bargain. 6 The signing of this contract ended Perkins’s plans to go to Russia, and he devoted all his attention to fulfilling this new deal. On January 19, Perkins telegraphed Lilienfeldt, “Contract accepted”; that same day, however, Lilien- feldt sent Perkins a letter warning him not to proceed, as he thought he might soon be replaced by another agent. Soon after, however, Lilienfeldt did renew contact with Perkins and met him to examine a large stash of modified arms. Apparently satisfied with the weapons, Lilienfeldt agreed to meet again to draw up a formal contract. Then, over the next few weeks, Lilienfeldt evaded Perkins. What ensued was no less than the proverbial wild goose chase, as Perkins looked for Lilienfeldt in Worcester, New York, and Hartford, and the Russian agent stayed one step ahead. 7 Eventually, Perkins discovered that Lilienfeldt was leaving the country soon and was advised that his only recourse was to initiate a lawsuit. On June 7, 1856, Perkins filed a complaint in the Supreme Court of New York. In subsequent weeks, Lilienfeldt gave his deposition yet refused an offer for third-party mediation. Meanwhile, Perkins’s inability to pay the cost bond of $500 demanded by the Supreme Court of New York, combined with his other debts and obligations, led to his total financial ruin. In desperation,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Perkins reluctantly accepted a $200 judgment offered by Lilienfeldt’s counsel on March 21, 1857. This was not the end of the case, however. Perkins and his counsel claimed that he was both embarrassed and financially destroyed by the incident and, therefore, expected remuneration from the Russian government. The settlement with Lilienfeldt, they argued, was just that—a settlement with one man. It did not absolve Russia of its liability in the matter. Specifically, Perkins demanded the amount that he would have made had the contracts been fulfilled: for the arms, $301,000.00; for the powder, $72,613.20; interest on the capital invested, $11,618.11; for a grand total of $385,231.31. 8 Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 77 Over the next few years, all of the relevant parties in the case were deposed. Not surprisingly, those who knew Perkins or stood to benefit from his success gave testimony that backed his claim. It should also be said, however, that Perkins’s supporters had the letters, telegrams, and contracts to back their depositions. Moreover, a number of witnesses gave testimony, men like Wal- ter Kidder and others, who were often present during Perkins’s negotiations with the Russian agents. Other men, such as the agents and owners of the various firms with which Perkins had made contracts, also testified that Per- kins had indeed purchased arms, a ship, logwood, and the others items for which he demanded reimbursement. Perkins also presented his claim to the United States attorney general, a necessary step because the incident occurred in the United States and would be subject to American law. The attorney general stated unequivocally that an oral contract had the same validity as a written contract. As these depositions were being taken, Perkins’s attorneys kept Stoeckl informed of the case and offered him all the relevant papers for consideration and discussion. The Russian minister denied the validity of the claim and refused to engage in an exchange of documents. He stated that he had no authority to refer the matter to arbitration and that Perkins would have to approach the Russian government directly through the American minister in St. Petersburg. 9 In the meantime, Perkins and his counsel also appealed to higher powers. On April 27, 1858, Perkins wrote the president of the United States, asking for the help of the American government in presenting his case to Alexander II. Less than two months later, a resolution appeared in the Senate requesting that the president report on any other cases of American citizens defrauded by Russian agents. The resolution was unanimously approved and referred to the Committee on Foreign Relations. 10 The next significant activity in the case occurred in September 1860, when the American minister to Russia, John Appleton, submitted the Per- kins claim with all relevant documents to the Russian government for consideration. Three months later, the adjunct minister of foreign affairs, Ivan Tolstoy, gave a response that, in the words of Perkins’s attorney William Evarts, was “so wholly evasive of the true merits of the case, as to make it apparent either that the Foreign Office did not take pains to read the record, or else sought to ignore the plainest principles upon which contracts are

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 maintained by the laws of the United States.” Tolstoy’s rejection focused on three assumptions: 1) that the claim for arms was settled by the judgment in New York; 2) that there was no written contract for powder; and 3) that Stoeckl would not have treated such a serious matter so lightly. Evarts refuted all of these arguments, denying that Perkins had forfeited his right to sue the Russian government when he accepted the $200 settlement and repeating the judgment of the attorney general on the validity of verbal contracts. Evarts declared that Perkins had been met by “evasion—by concealment, and official silence—by oppressive exactions and attempts to smother inquiry” and the violation of these contracts led to “the ruin of the 78 Lee A. Farrow unsuspecting mariner and weather worn sailor, who confided in their good honor and faith.” 11 Perkins’s attorneys persisted. In 1861, the House of Representatives received a presentation of the Perkins claim with a new timeline that included international events that were pertinent to the case. The timeline proposed that Stoeckl’s inconsistent actions regarding the powder contract coincided precisely with the changing circumstances of the war in the summer of 1855. Specifically, the powder contract occurred in June 1855, during a period when Russia had renewed its war efforts after a failed peace conference in April. That same month, however, the allied powers blockaded all of the Russian seaboard; allowing for the time that it would take for that news to reach Washington, this was about the time that Stoeckl began to waffle on the deal. Still, he did not yet cancel the contract, as shown by an August 4 letter from the Russian agent in Berlin to Perkins. But on August 7, the allies destroyed the most important Russian fortress on the Baltic Sea and took control of the coast. Stoeckl would have received this news about September 1, the exact time when he breached the contract. Perkins’s attorneys presented a similar argument for the arms contract. Though Russian ports were blockaded in the summer of 1855, Prussia began to allow the passage of war contraband, prompting Lilienfeldt to secure the second contract in January 1856. But that month there was also talk of peace; Russia accepted new negotiations and sent representatives to the congress being held in Paris. Thus when it became apparent that Russia would not need arms, the contract was breached. Per- kins’s attorneys added that on October 16, 1861, Seward wrote to Cassius Clay, U.S. minister to Russia, expressing the Department of State’s opinion that the claim was just and ought to be paid; these efforts had failed, so they now requested help from Congress. 12 Over the next few years, activity on the Perkins claim came to a virtual standstill as the Civil War took precedence over virtually all other matters. When Benjamin Perkins died in 1862, his claim was taken up by his wife, Anna Perkins. There was one attempt to settle the claim for $130,000 that year, but it failed. 13 This period of relative inactivity was but the calm before the storm, however, for in 1867 the claim was resurrected; over the next few years, it would grow to include many politicians and diplomats in Washing- ton and would ultimately lead to an international scandal that threatened

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the future of Russian-American relations. In 1867, Anna Perkins once again appealed to Congress for help. This time, however, she had a hook—aware that the United States was in negotiations for the purchase of Alaska, she asked that Congress withhold the amount of $385,231.31 plus interest from the payment to Russia, at least until her claim was evaluated once more. 14 A number of politicians embraced Perkins’s cause. Over the next year or so, as the House of Representatives debated whether to approve the appropriation of funds to pay for Alaska, advocates of the claim in Congress raised it again and again—twice in July 1867, once in December 1867, and at least once in every month in the spring of 1868. The case was also referred to several Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 79 committees as well—the Committee on Appropriations and the Committee on Claims. In the fall of 1867, E. Peshine Smith, an examiner of claims in the Bureau of Claims, concluded that Perkins had been, and his estate now was, entitled to payment from Russia for the losses he sustained “by the fault of her agent in presenting the execution of a valid contract.” He did not believe that Perkins had the right to insist that the American government get involved, however. Smith thus concluded that to tamper with the treaty for Alaska would be “inconsistent with our national honor” and “to postpone payment for the further consideration of such a claim, would . . . be to renounce for the future any right to the just confidence in our plighted faith which has been exhibited in this instance.” 15 Stoeckl was alarmed by the growing momentum of this claim and the attempts to link it to the Alaska purchase. Late in the summer of 1867, he wrote Seward about his concern that rumors about these efforts might reach the Russian capital and “produce some uneasiness there.” 16 In late January 1868, he wrote Gorchakov that he hoped that there were still enough noble men in the House who would come out against the case. He believed that the backers of the claim were well organized and had some kind of agreement to split the settlement with Mrs. Perkins. 17 When debate over the appropriation bill began in the full body of the House in late June, Benjamin Butler, a great opponent of the Alaska purchase, submitted an amendment asking that $500,000 be withheld until the Russian government agreed to an impartial tribunal to consider claims by American citizens considered valid by the Department of State. Butler’s proposal went nowhere. As a compromise, Nathaniel Banks of Massachusetts, who supported the Perkins claim but did not believe it should be linked to the Alaska bill, negotiated a promise to the supporters of the claim “in public session, with the consent of the Secretary of State, and the Russian Minister” that the subject would be considered once the bill passed. Banks later wrote to the new Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, “I do not state that he [Stoeckl] promised the recognition of the claim in any way, but he said it should be considered and settled upon the facts of the Case—We did not debate the merits of the claim.” Meanwhile, Seward insisted that the Department of State had no knowledge of any agent of citizen of the United States that had “any lien upon the purchase money for Alaska.” Ultimately, on July 14, the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 entire House passed the Alaska appropriation bill; several days later, the Sen- ate quickly and harmoniously passed the bill as well. On July 28, Seward sent a requisition for $7.2 million to the Secretary of the Treasury; four days later, Stoeckl received a treasury draft in that amount. Stoeckl subsequently left Washington in October 1868 and retired in January 1869.  Discussion of the Perkins claim did not occur until the next session of Con- gress. In mid-January 1869, the House of Representatives resolved that “the President be requested to use the good offices of this government for the 80 Lee A. Farrow purpose of obtaining from the Russian government a prompt and just consideration and settlement of the claims of Benjamin W. Perkins and others,” originating in contracts made during the Crimean War. Subsequently, in May and June 1869, Banks wrote two letters to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish explaining the particular circumstances of the House resolution and its intent to satisfy that promise of the previous year. 18 In January 1869, however, Stoeckl had retired and was replaced by a new minister, Constantine Catacazy, and the Perkins claim took an entirely new direction. Catacazy arrived in the United States in late summer 1869 and presented himself to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish and President Ulysses S. Grant in September. Within a few months, however, he had become a thorn in Fish’s side, and by the fall of 1870, the secretary wrote in his diary, “It is a pity that one can never trust Catacazy or believe a word he says.” 19 The Rus- sian government had instructed Catacazy to investigate the Perkins claim, and he did so with relish. Catacazy wrote Fish that the claim was not deemed cred- ible by the Russian government because of its “essentially fraudulent character” and “entire worthlessness.” He called the evidence “absolutely fictitious” and denied that any of the Russians involved in the matter had the authority to negotiate such contracts. Moreover, he added, “Unless completely insane, a man in the position of Mr. Stoeckl, does not engage in such an enterprise without a good and sufficient object or motive.” According to Catacazy, Rack- elwicz did not even work for the Russian government. Catacazy then introduced the testimony of a number of individuals who indicated that Perkins was a man of intemperate habits who intentionally entrapped the Russian agents in an effort to extort money. Furthermore, they insisted the Perkins was a bad businessman and a bad mariner who either by “design or incompetency” had lost several vessels. 20 The attorneys for Mrs. Perkins, of course, responded to these strong accusations with equal passion. They were particularly troubled by the accusation of entrapment and the attacks on Perkins’s character, which they labeled “a deliberate piece of perjury and slander upon the character of a man who has been for more than eight years in his grave.” 21 Perkins’s attorney pointed out that in 1869, they requested the opportunity to cross-examine Catacazy’s witnesses and offered him the chance to cross-examine theirs, but this request/ offer was not accepted. Finally, Perkins’s attorneys cited the evidence already

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 presented that Stoeckl and the other Russians clearly had the authority to establish contracts. 22 Fish believed that the claim had some merit but that it also had been “fraudulently swollen, in amount, & been prosecuted in a way to offend the Russian Gov. & to discredit those interested in it.” He added that “when it was found necessary to employ a new agent or Attorney, the amount of the claim increased, by the amount necessary to give him.” 23 Meanwhile, the Perkins claim had taken on a life of its own in the con- tentious relationship developing between Catacazy and members of the U.S. administration. While Stoeckl had dealt with the claim through denial, disagreement, and avoidance, Catacazy took an aggressive and offensive Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 81 approach, one that brought him into direct conflict with Hamilton Fish and President Grant. The Perkins claim was now removed from the private corre- spondences of diplomats and their governments and made a very public affair, as Catacazy was accused of writing newspaper articles and publishing letters that had been intended for his eyes only. The first public attacks regarding the Perkins claim began in early March 1870, when the Washington Morning Chronicle published a letter purported to be written by Catacazy to Cassius Clay referring to the “fictitious pretensions of the widow Perkins” and alluding to evidence that Perkins had entrapped the Russian agents. The author declared that if Russia paid such fabricated claims, it would be inundated by dishonest opportunists and reminded Clay that there were many claims by Russian citizens against the U.S. government, but that his government had abstained from getting involved in these. 24 Meanwhile, Fish had also received a copy of another document purported to be written by Catacazy, an unsigned dispatch to the tsar that rejected the validity of the claim and used harsh language about those involved in it. In this letter, the author claimed that he had attempted to investigate the Per- kins claim fairly, but finding himself “surrounded on every side by robbers, schemers, and traitors,” he had been forced to act more aggressively:

I found the most disreputable men in America, outlaws from society engaged in bolstering the iniquitous fraud, and resorting to bribes of the most daring character in order to command the influence of demoralized member of Congress . . . they had recourse to newspaper slanders, villify- ing the Government and the character of my most gracious sovereign. 25

Finally, the author described Fish as “a very weak and vacillating man,” declaring that the secretary initially had doubted the validity of the claim but later changed his mind and dared “to propose arbitration in regard to a matter which a few weeks before he had himself pronounced unworthy of serious consideration.” 26 Though Fish disliked Catacazy, he initially doubted that he had written these documents, commenting, “The whole thing is improbable. . . . Catacazy never could have written the letter attributed to him for the records of his archives, & of his Gov.” Catacazy, of course, denied authorship of the inflam- 27

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 matory documents or that he had anything to do with their publication. In early April, he telegrammed the New York Herald that the papers were forged and created by someone to injure his relationship with Fish. In response, Mrs. Perkins’s counsel, J. B. Stewart, wrote Fish, insisting that Catacazy was the author of these documents. He presented a side-by-side comparison of the documents in question and other documents known to be authored by Cata- cazy and argued that the similarities proved they could only have been written by one hand. 28 Over the next year, the dispute reached the boiling point. In November 1870, a scathing article appeared in the New York World entitled “Russia & 82 Lee A. Farrow America” that discussed the cooling relationship between the two countries and Grant’s “violation of the Monroe Doctrine” by his alleged sympathy with England in its conflict with Russia over the Eastern Question. Fish believed that it was written by Catacazy. 29 Then, in late February 1871, someone told Fish that Catacazy had confessed to writing a letter in the Cincinnati Enquirer entitled, “Reported Trouble between President Grant & the Russian Minis- ter,” which, among other things, declared that Grant’s primary problem with Catacazy was the latter’s “energy and zeal . . . in settling up, or rather squelch- ing, the demands of . . . the great Perkins claim.” 30 Meanwhile, Catacazy continued to assert his innocence in all these suspicious events and even claimed to be the victim of a conspiracy orchestrated by Mrs. Perkins’s attorneys, among others. In April 1871, Catacazy told Fish that he had recently been approached by some newspaperman asking questions about the Perkins claim, undoubtedly someone employed by the attorneys of Mrs. Perkins. Fish, however, did not believe Catacazy’s story and commented, “This looks to me like a very shallow cover of another of Catacazy’s movements.” 31 Despite these complications, there were legitimate attempts to resolve the seemingly unending conflict. In 1870, the U.S. government proposed mediation by mutually agreed-upon impartial persons and, though Russia declined the offer, selected E. Peshine Smith, now legal advisor to the Department of State, to arbitrate the claim. Catacazy met with Smith and agreed to supply him with all relevant documents, although, in Fish’s estimation, the Russian minister’s agenda was “to convince this Govt. that Russia has good reasons for refusing to admit the claim.” When Fish confronted Catacazy about this, he declared that Russia would fully consider the case but emphasized that “Rus- sia will not regard it as having any binding or judicial control over her own action.” 32 Smith delivered his second, and more detailed, assessment of the Perkins claim on May 9, 1871. He concluded that Stoeckl’s request for proposals for the production and delivery of powder did not constitute a contract but simply “the expression of a confident opinion as to the action of his Government, and of recommendation to Captain Perkins to put himself in condition to complete a profitable enterprise.” 33 That Perkins and Kidder believed otherwise was unfortunate but irrelevant. Smith believed that while Perkins had been misled “by facts and appearances which might well mislead prudent men

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of business,” any obligation to Perkins relied solely on the conscience of the Russian government. Smith did, however, underscore the complete trustwor- thiness of Perkins’s witnesses and believed that Rackelwicz was an agent of the Russian government. How else, Smith asked, could Rackelwicz have access to information “to which secrecy was obviously of the utmost importance to the Russian Government,” unless he got it from Stoeckl or another Russian official? Moreover, Stoeckl met with Rackelwicz in the presence of Perkins and others, and there was evidence of correspondence as well. 34 On the other hand, Smith believed the arms contract to be a valid one and supported Per- kins’s demands to be compensated for the losses deriving from this failed deal. Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 83 Perkins was clearly prepared to fulfill the contract, and “it must be assumed, would have performed his contract, if he had not been prevented by the default of the agent of Russia.” The settlement of $200 with Lilienfeldt was a matter between two individuals, and Perkins did not need to expressly reserve his right to make claim against the Russian government; his right to do so was always there. Smith concluded, “I have arrived at the unhesitating conviction that Mrs. Perkins is entitled to remuneration for all that her husband lost in consequence of being deprived of the opportunity to fulfill his contract.” The final amount, in Smith’s opinion, was $285,625. Smith believed that to this sum should be added interest at 6 percent per annum from July 1, 1856, until the amount was paid. 35 In a letter of June 26, 1871, Fish reported on the history and the current state of the Perkins claim to Andrew Curtin, U.S. minister in Russia. He underscored that although Smith’s opinion was adverse to the Perkins claim on the matter of the powder, and though it was contrary to the position of some previous secretaries of state, it was accepted by the American government. Fish instructed Curtin to give Smith’s conclusion to the Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs Alexander Gorchakov and express that the U.S. government expected that this would solve the matter. 36 Meanwhile, the president and Fish decided they could tolerate Catacazy no more. In June 1871, Fish instructed Curtin to ask the Russian government to recall Catacazy. The matter was not that simple. The tsar’s son, Grand Duke Alexis, was preparing to visit the United States in the fall of 1871. The Rus- sian government made it clear that it would be impossible for such a visit to occur if there was no Russian representative present. Though Grant and Fish were eager to be rid of Catacazy, they were persuaded by Curtin to compromise, and Catacazy was permitted to stay until the end of the grand duke’s visit in early 1872. When Grand Duke Alexis met President Grant in the White House in November 1871, the reception was brief, with no ball or dinner, and everyone understood that the coolness of the reception was a result of the Catacazy imbroglio. Alexis politely declined repeated invitations to return for a second visit to Washington. In letters to Catacazy and to the tsar, Admiral Constantin Possiet, Alexis’s guardian who accompanied him on the trip, confessed that even before arriving in the United States he had been opposed to a second trip to Washington, but then, after the cool reception he received at

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the White House, he was definitely against it. In fact, Possiet was repeatedly approached with the request for a second visit, including a possible invitation to Washington to come from Congress itself, but since the circumstances that had caused him to refuse the first time had not changed, he had to decline this offer as well. 37 Meanwhile, the Perkins affair continued. In December 1871, Curtin for- warded a response from the Russian government on the documents sent in June. Gorchakov declared that the report of Smith and the other documents in no way altered his opinion, adding, “It was only out of regard for the Fed- eral Government that the Imperial Ministry consented to bring this question 84 Lee A. Farrow on the diplomatic ground. . . . It has never intended to go further, and finds in the papers recently produced no reason for reviewing this decision.” 38 He argued that the agreement for arms had been written to include a one-week probationary period and that Lilienfeldt’s letter about his possible replacement was tantamount to an official cancellation and could only be overridden by a subsequent contract, which did not exist. Consequently, Gorchakov found the claims to be “without foundation, either legal or equitable, and consequently perfectly inadmissible,” and he chided Curtin that if a Russian subject should charge the American government with a similar claim “so evidently devoid of proof, the Imperial Ministry would certainly have granted it no support.” 39 This was the last official exchange pertaining to the Perkins claim for nearly a decade. In the wake of the Catacazy scandal, Fish debated whether he should continue to press the Perkins claim with the Russian government; ultimately, he decided to let the matter drop. 40 The claim did resurface a number of years later. In a draft of a note to the Russian legation in the United States sometime in 1881, Secretary of State James Blaine explained the history of the case and the reason for the Department of State’s silence about the case over the last decade. First, “Mr. Catacazy’s misconduct, much of it having reference to this case, had produced so much irritation that it became Mr. Fish’s first duty not to stir the subject again unless absolutely necessary.” He also referred to Stoeckl’s promise to reexamine the case after the payment for Alaska, stating, “Surely neither the Imperial Government, nor any of its ministers should have harbored the intent for a moment to pocket (accept) the benefits of the compact and then abuse our confidence by failing to comply with their part of it.” Finally, Blaine added that the Department of State had chosen not to continue to press the matter because it was assumed that Smith’s assessment would be accepted and acted upon in a satisfactory way, and any pressure on the Russian government would have seemed insulting. Matters were further delayed when Fish left office and Williams Evarts succeeded him. Evarts had been one of the Perkins attorneys and so could not “with his sense of personal honor press the claim in his official capacity.” When Evarts left office, however, President Rutherford B. Hayes instructed the department to inquire about the claim once more. 41 Later, in 1886, the case was raised in the Senate once more, but the resolution appears to have had no result.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The Perkins claim was never settled, and it eventually disappeared, a little- known blemish on the famous Alaska purchase and the much-hailed Russian- American friendship. But the Perkins claim was a significant episode for its longevity and broad scope, touching on issues of international diplomacy and law, threatening the Alaska purchase, derailing the American career of Con- stantin Catacazy, and dampening the visit of Grand Duke Alexis. Finally, the Perkins claim also became part of an alleged bribery scandal surrounding the Alaska purchase that resulted in a congressional investigation between 1868 and 1869. Though the investigation committee report was inconclusive, it did reveal that the entire $7.2 million did not go to Russia and that several people, Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 85 politicians and newspapermen, had received money from Stoeckl for promoting the purchase of Alaska. Though there is no other direct evidence of corruption, many people, then and later, believed that congressmen were bribed. Historian Frank Golder, who mined the Russian archives in the early twentieth century, could find “no direct and conclusive evidence . . . to warrant the accusation of any congress- man by name” but felt certain that some had been bought off. More recently, other historians have accepted his interpretation, though to varying degrees. One historian, for example, accused Thaddeus Stevens and Nathaniel Banks. Both men had supported the Perkins claim in 1867 and then changed their stances in 1868 in response to Stoeckl’s assurance that the claim would be given fair consideration. Perhaps Stoeckl “rewarded” them for their concession. Other historians have suggested that ten separate congressmen received $10,000 each, though precisely for what service is unclear. Only recently has a historian found an ukaz of December 13, 1868, in which Tsar Alexander II declared, “I command that the 165,000 dollars spent for the use known to me by . . . Stoeckl be counted as actual expenditure.” But we cannot know if any of this money was used to quiet supporters of the Perkins claim. Ulti- mately, we will probably never know exactly how, or on whom, that portion of the $7.2 million was spent. The very nature of bribery is secretive; if Stoeckl bribed congressmen, only he and they would know for certain what transpired, and it was in neither party’s best interests to divulge the details.

Notes 1. There is no thorough treatment of the Perkins claim and even this chapter cannot, for lack of space, fully explore the merits of the claim. The best summaries of the claim can be found in the following sources: David Hunter Miller, The Alaska Treaty (Kingston, Ontario: The Limestone Press, 1981), 166–176; Paul S. Holbo, Tarnished Expansion: The Alaska Scandal, the Press, and Congress, 1867–1871 (Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1983), 15–16; Norman E. Saul, Distant Friends: The United States and Russia, 1763–1867 (Lawrence: University of Kansas Press, 1991), 254–56; Frank A. Golder, “The Purchase of Alaska,” The American Historical Review 25, 3, (April 1920): 422; N. N. Bolkhovitinov, Russian-American Relations and the Sale of Alaska, 1834–1867, trans. Richard A. Pierce (Kingston, Ontario and Fairbanks, AK: The Limestone Press, 1996), 292–96; Lee A. Farrow, Alexis in America: A Grand Duke’s Tour, 1871–72 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2014), 5, 8–39. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 2. Claim of Captain Benjamin W. Perkins against the Government of Russia, in the Matter of Two Contracts Entered into in the Years 1855 and 1856 (Washington, 1860). 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid. 5. Ibid. 6. Ibid. 7. Ibid. 8. Summons for a money demand on contract, to Lilienfeldt, Supreme Court, City and County of New York, June 7, 1856; Court order for cost bond, New York, June 18, 1856; Offer of Judgement between Perkins and Lilienfeldt, New York, March 21, 1857; Acceptance of Judgment between Perkins and Lilienfeldt, New 86 Lee A. Farrow York, March 21, 1857; Judge’s order to enter judgment in Supreme Court of New York, March 21, 1857; Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbi- trations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 1, National Archives, Washington, D.C.; Claim of Captain Benjamin W. Perkins . 9. Claim of Captain Benjamin W. Perkins ; Letter from Counsel of Perkins, H. L. Ste- vens and J. B. Stewart, July 1858, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 1, National Archives, Wash- ington, D.C. 10. Senate Journal , 35th Cong., 1st sess., June 15, 1858, 724–25; Congressional Globe, Special Session of the Senate, 35th Cong., 1st sess., June 15, 1858, 3051–52. 11. In the Matter of Benjamin W. Perkins against the Russian Government, Report of William Evarts to William Seward, March 1, 1861, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 1, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 12. The Russian Contracts (Washington D.C., 1861), obtained from the Western Reserve Historical Society, Cleveland, OH; The Perkins Claim against the Russian Government. Letter of Mr. Seward to Mr. Clay (McGill & Witherow Printers and Stereotypers, 1861), Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitra- tions, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 1, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 13. Memo in the Bureau of Claims by E. Peshine Smith, October 24, 1867, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 2, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 14. Petition of Anna B. Perkins, of Worcester, Mass, administratrix of the late B. W. Per- kins: praying that out of the sums of money to be paid to the Imperial Government of Russia, under the terms of the recent treaty between the government and the United States . . . (Washington: Intelligencer Printing House, 1867). 15. Memo in the Bureau of Claims by E. Peshine Smith, October 24, 1867, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 2, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 16. Miller, 167. 17. Bolkhovitnov, Russian-American Relations , 294. 18. Journal of the House of Representatives , 40th Cong., 3rd sess., January 13, 1869, 148. 19. The Papers of Hamilton Fish, Diaries , 1869–76, reel 1 (vol. 1), September 19, 1869, September 24, 1869, and reel 1 (vol. 2), November 19, 1870, microfilmed from manuscript collection in the Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, MSS 17. 20. Letter from Catacazy to Fish, New York, August 12/24, 1870, Notes from the Russian Legation in the U.S. to the Department of State, 1809–1906, National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C. (NARA), Record Group 59, roll 5; In the matter of the claim of Captain B. W. Perkins, against the Russian Government, for alleged breach of contract. Statement of Mr. C. Catacazy, Minister, &c., of his Majesty, the Emperor of Russia, 18–24, and Russian testimony presented and filed by his excellency C. Catacazy, minister, & c. of His Majesty the emperor of Russia with his “statement” in opposition to the claims of Mrs. Anna B. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Perkins, administratrix, & c., Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 2, National Archives, Washing- ton, D.C. 21. The Claim of Anna B. Perkins, Adm’x against the Russian government, Replay of counsel for Mrs. Anna B. Perkins, administratrix, & c, to the statement of facts and argument presented by his excellency, C. Catacazy, minister, & c. of His Majesty the emperor , 54–55. 22. In the Matter of the Claim of Anna B. Perkins, Administratrix, against the Russian Government, before the Department of State. Supplemental deposition of William H. Jackson in the matter of the claims of the late Benjamin W. Perkins on the Russian Gov- ernment (Washington, 1871), Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Intrigue, Scandal, and International Diplomacy 87 Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 2, National Archives, Washing- ton, D.C. 23. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 1), April 22, 1870. 24. Letter from B. Stewart, lawyer for Mrs. Perkins, to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, April 24, 1870, Notes to Foreign Legations in the United States from the Department of State, 1834–1906: Russia, NARA, RG 59, M 99. 25. Despatch of February 17, 1870, quoted in letter from B. Stewart, lawyer for Mrs. Perkins, to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, April 24, 1870, Notes to Foreign Legations in the United States from the Department of State, 1834– 1906: Russia, NARA, RG 59, M 99. 26. Ibid. 27. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 1), March 3, 1870, March 15, 1870. 28. Letter from B. Stewart, lawyer for Mrs. Perkins, to Secretary of State Hamilton Fish, Washington, April 24, 1870, Notes to Foreign Legations in the United States from the Department of State, 1834–1906: Russia, NARA, RG 59, M 99. 29. Diplomatic Instructions of the Department of State (DIDS), National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, DC (NARA), Record Group 59, M 77, roll 137; Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 3), June 16, 1871. 30. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 2), February 26, 1871; New York Sun , January 14, 1871. 31. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 3), April 29, 1871. 32. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 2), October 14, 1870. 33. In the matters of the claim of Mrs. Anna B. Perkins, administratrix, etc., etc., against the government of Russia. Documents relatifs a la reclamation de la dame Anna B. Perkins, adminitratrice etc. etc, contre le gouvernment de Russie, 1871, p. 4 ILL Harvard Law Library . 34. In the matters of the claim of Mrs. Anna B. Perkins, administratrix, etc., etc., against the government of Russia. Documents relatifs a la reclamation de la dame Anna B. Perkins, adminitratrice etc. etc, contre le gouvernment de Russie, 1871, ILL Harvard Law Library . 35. In the matters of the claim of Mrs. Anna B. Perkins, administratrix, etc., etc., against the government of Russia. Documents relatifs a la reclamation de la dame Anna B. Perkins, adminitratrice etc. etc, contre le gouvernment de Russie, 1871, p. 14. ILL Harvard Law Library . 36. Letter from Hamilton Fish, Washington D.C., to Andrew Curtain, St. Petersburg, June 26, 1871. Diplomatic Instructions, Roll 137. 37. For the full story of Alexis’s visit, see Lee A. Farrow, Alexis in America: A Grand Duke’s Tour, 1871–72 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2014). 38. Letter from Prince Gorchakov to Andrew Curtin, St. Petersburg, December 4, 1871, in Despatch from Andrew Curtin, St. Petersburg, to Hamilton Fish, Wash- ington D.C., December 18, 1871 (Despatches from the U.S. Ministers to Russia, 1808–1906, Roll 23). 39. Letter from Prince Gorchakov to Andrew Curtin, St. Petersburg, December 4, 1871, in Despatch from Andrew Curtin, St. Petersburg, to Hamilton Fish, Wash- Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ington D.C., December 18, 1871 (Despatches from the U.S. Ministers to Russia, 1808–1906, Roll 23). 40. Fish, Diaries , reel 1 (vol. 3), January 17, 1872; Draft of note to Russian Lega- tion, c. 1881, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 2, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 41. Draft of note to Russian Legation, c. 1881, Records of Boundary and Claims Commissions and Arbitrations, 1716–1979, Record Group 76, Box 1, National Archives, Washington, D.C. 7 The Establishment of Russian Studies at the University of Chicago 1

Pavel Tribunskiy

The establishment of Russian studies in American universities took place in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. There are several works on the subject, 2 including biographies of the founding fathers of Russian studies. 3 The University of Chicago occupied an interesting position among the few centers of Russian studies in the United States before World War I. An attempt to establish a center of Russian studies at the university was initiated by a person who was not a member of the academic community. Businessman and philanthropist Charles R. Crane (1858–1939) made a proposal for a series of lectures on history and culture of the Slavic world. He personally participated in the invitation of foreign scholars as lecturers (Maxim M. Kovalevsky, Tomas G. Masaryk, Pavel N. Miliukov) and generously funded the publication of books based on the lectures. This fascinating episode described in the literature 4 overshadowed earlier attempts to institutionalize Russian studies at the University of Chicago in which some Russian scholars abroad were involved. 5 The rise of interest in Russia and its culture in the United States began in the second half of the 1880s and continued into the beginning of the 1890s. It was the result of active lecturing by George Kennan across the United States, enthusiasm for Leo Tolstoy’s works, and the sympathy of Americans for starving Russians (1891–1892), which caused an unprecedented level of humanitarian aid. Interest in Russia led to the first call for the institutionalization of Russian studies in Chicago. The initiator was journalist and translator Nathan Haskell Dole (1852–1935). In a March 1892 letter (which has not survived), Dole rec-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ommended to the president of the University of Chicago, William R. Harper (1856–1906), to establish the Department of Slavic and Russian Studies. In his next letter of May 3, Dole advised Harper to invite five instructors for lectures on Russian language, Russian poetry, Russian fiction, Russian science, and Russian drama. Dole incidentally noted that for the last four or five years he had been busy writing a history of Russian drama. It is obvious that he was presenting himself as a candidate for a chair. 6 Dole never actually compiled a history of Russian drama, but by 1892 he could be considered an expert on the “Russian question.” He was the author of a history of Russia for young people and a popular book on famous European composers (with a section on The Establishment of Russian Studies 89 Mikhail Glinka); he also translated numerous works of Leo Tolstoy, a book by Ernest Dupuy on Russian writers, and The History of Russia by Alfred Rambaud with his own additions. 7 Dole’s appeal to “‘get ahead’ of Harvard and all other colleges” 8 was not enough to establish several chairs, as it was impossible to ensure adequate funding for the new department. At virtually the same time, The Nation featured a discussion of the institutionalization of Russian studies in the United States (June–July 1892). The initiator was the writer and translator Isabel F. Hapgood (1851–1928). Calling for the creation of the Department of Russian studies in the United States, Hapgood preferred to see a Russian scholar as its head. N. H. Dole responded that an American with a good knowledge of the Russian language was a better candidate. Dole’s opinion was supported by a native of Russia, Leo Wiener (1862–1939), who later held a similar chair at Harvard. The last response was from Hapgood, who stated that her proposal did not pursue any personal goals; however, she did mention her extraordinary ability in Russian. 9 The failure of the creation of the Department of Russian Studies at Chicago and discussion in The Nation required N. H. Dole to change his plans, and he tried to bring the question to the attention of his alma mater, Harvard Univer- sity, from which he had graduated in 1874. Dole called on Harvard to become the first university in the United States to establish a department of Russian language and literature. 10 His efforts failed, and Dole abandoned the idea of an academic career and focused solely on journalism and translation. American interest in Russia received substantial support from May to Octo- ber 1893, during the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago. A real Rus- sian Kulturträger , Prince Sergey Mikhailovich Wolkonsky (1860–1937), was a representative of the Ministry of Public Education at the exposition and an informal member of the World Parliament of Religions. 11 His origin and excellent knowledge of English made him a welcome guest at meetings of Chicago high society and a popular speaker everywhere. The subjects of his speeches were varied: higher education for women in Russia, Russian poetry, impressions of America, and religious issues. His speeches were gathered and published in 1893 in English. 12 Wolkonsky judged his speeches as a mission to beat misconceptions and prejudices that were propagated by the dregs of Russian society and so eagerly caught by the local press. A correspondent of Moskovskie vedomosti, A. Bocharov, supported the activities of Wolkonsky,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 who tried to acquaint Americans with the real Russia and dispel ridiculous nonsense about it. The conservative journalist blamed Jews from Russia in creating perverse views about the country. 13 In November 1893, Wolkonsky, on behalf of the Ministry of Public Education, presented the University of Chicago with a collection of books, 14 whose titles, unfortunately, are now unknown. His oratorical abilities, excellent knowledge of English, and informal contacts each played a role in Wolkonsky receiving an invitation to the United States to give lectures on Russia. On the eve of the World’s Columbian Exposition, the University of Chicago hired a native of Russia, Isaac (Ayzik) Aaronovich (Arievich, Adol’fovich) 90 Pavel Tribunskiy Hourwich (1860–1924). He was a member of a middle-class Jewish family. Hourwich had not graduated from any institution of higher education but managed to pass the exams as an external student for the degree of candidate of law at the Demidov Lyceum (1887). His involvement in the revolutionary movement led to an administrative expulsion to Tobolsk (1881–1885), with surveillance on his return. In 1890, Hourwich fled from Russia to Europe and then to the United States. He continued his revolutionary activities in New York while conducting research under the guidance of an economist, professor E.R.A. Seligman (1861–1939) at Columbia University. He received a PhD, and his thesis was published as The Economics of the Russian Village (1892). 15 Hourwich was recommended as a lecturer for teaching statistics in the department of political economy at the meeting of the Board of Trustees on April 25, 1893. It appears that his contract was for one year. He was reap- pointed to the same position at the meeting of the Board of Trustees on April 3, 1894. However, at the meeting of February 1, 1895, Hourwich’s resignation was announced. 16 There is no consensus among scholars on the cause of the rapid end of his academic career. He could have been a victim of some clashes in the department. Some think he suffered due to his leftist political views. 17 Hourwich lectured on Statistics in the 1893–1894 academic year (autumn quarter) and Advanced Statistics (winter quarter). The duration of both courses was increased to two quarters (autumn-winter and spring- summer, respectively) for the next academic year. 18 For the history of Russian studies in the United States, it is significant to consider Hourwich’s activity as a member of the staff of the Lecture-Study Department of the University Extension Division. He was officially recommended by President Harper as a lecturer in Russian literature at the meeting of the Board of Trustees on August 22, 1894. It seems that the interests of Harper, who sought to meet the increased demand for information on Russia, and Hourwich’s desire to share his knowledge on Russia agreed. Hourwich informally talked to the Lecture-Study Department prior to the formal recommendation, as an announcement for a new course in the autumn quarter of 1894–1895 academic year was published in February 1894. Lectures on “Stud- ies in Russian Literature” by Hourwich were announced for the autumn, winter, and spring quarters of the 1894–1895 academic year and for the autumn quarter of the 1895–1896 academic year. 19 Unfortunately, it is not possible to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 find reliable detailed information on lectures; the texts are not located in the university archives or in his personal archive. It appears that there were no lectures during the spring quarter of the 1894–1895 academic year or in the autumn quarter of the 1895–1896 academic year, due to Hourwich’s dismissal from the university. As Hourwich taught his course on Russian literature, President Harper received a letter from the mathematician Alexander Savel’evich Khesin (1865–1955). His life and career progressed more successfully than that of Hourwich. Khesin grew up in a wealthy Jewish family and graduated from the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics of St. Petersburg University with a The Establishment of Russian Studies 91 candidate’s degree in 1890. In this year, Khesin was sent for a six-month trip abroad at the expense of the Ministry of Public Education. On returning to Russia, Khesin was retained by the university for two years without a stipend to prepare for a professorship. Khesin was not involved in the revolutionary movement. He was baptized in 1889, apparently for the sake of his career. 20 However, anti-Semitic Russian domestic politics forced Khesin to seek his fortune abroad. First, he went Switzerland, where he studied at the Zurich Polytechnic Institute. He graduated with a degree in engineering in 1892. In Zurich, he met a specialist of civil engineering, a professor at Cornell Uni- versity, Estevan A. Fuertes (1838–1903), who advised Khesin to go to the United States. Khesin arrived in New York on August 21, 1893, and expressed a desire to remain in the country at the border control point. Here Khesin slightly modified the transliteration of his surname to “Chessin.” His level of education allowed him to enroll in graduate courses at Harvard University. He taught a short course of lectures on the integration of partial differential equations at the university. However, the prospects for an academic career at Harvard for Khesin were not bright. This forced him to write a letter, dated March 26, 1894, to Harper asking for possible employment in the Depart- ment of Mathematics at Chicago. In addition to his main specialty, Khesin offered himself as a possible lecturer in Russian language, literature, and history, in case the university would find it possible to include these courses in the curriculum. 21 Khesin had graduated from the gymnasium of St. Petersburg Institute of History and Philology. His knowledge and high level of education made his suggestions feasible. However, judging by the fact that his future career was associated with Johns Hopkins University and Washington University in St. Louis, Harper did not respond positively. Khesin’s desire to read lectures on Russia was quite sincere. He gave six lectures on “Russia and Russians” at Lowell Institute (Boston, 1895). He repeated the course in an abridged form (three lectures) at the Cooper Union in February 1900 under the auspices of Columbia University in New York. 22 The Lowell Institute lectures were dedicated to Russia several times: the president of MIT, John D. Runkle (1822–1902), offered a course on industrial education in Russia (season 1876–1877); traveler and journalist George Ken- nan (1845–1924) shared his impressions of Asiatic Russia with the audience

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 (season 1883–1884); and the expatriate Ivan N. Panin (1855–1942) devoted his lectures to Russian literature (season 1888–1889). 23 Increased interest in Russia led the Lowell Institute to offer lectures to Bostonians about this mysterious country for two consecutive years. In 1895, Khesin read his course. The following year, Wolkonsky spoke at Lowell Institute on “Russian History and Russian Literature.” In 1893, Wolkonsky was at Harvard University, where he gave several speeches. He was invited to Boston by Harvard professor Charles E. Norton (1827–1908). 24 There is no doubt that the 1895 invitation to Wolkonsky from the Lowell Institute was made at Norton’s suggestion. In the spring of 1895, 92 Pavel Tribunskiy Wolkonsky received an official invitation from the Institute to read eight lectures on Russian history and literature, which the prince accepted and prepared a course during the summer of 1895. Wolkonsky asked permission for an official trip, which was granted by the czar on September 30, 1895. The prince was allowed to go to the United States in January 1896 for four months without salary. Wolkonsky was on the board of the steamship Saint Paul , which ran aground on the shore of New Jersey on January 25, 1896. The prince crossed the border control on February 4 in New York and then went to Boston, where his first lecture was delivered the next day. In Russia, Wolkonsky prepared an annotated list of lectures in English, which was printed and sent to several American universities. 25 Apparently, a list of lectures was sent to Chicago. It appears that Harper invited Wolkonsky to give a speech at the convocation ceremony of the university. The lectures could not be delivered due to a lack of sufficient funds. In a message dated February 12, 1896, Wolkonsky agreed to give a speech at the ceremony and left the amount of the fee to the discretion of Harper. The prince expressed his desire to present the entire course in six lectures, read two or three times a week. The president was able to provide a modest fee (300 dollars for six lectures), approving two lectures per week. Wolkonsky could choose to speak at the university or a downtown venue. 26 Wolkonsky arrived in Chicago on March 31, 1896, and found a place to live with his friend, a representative of the local high society, banker Franklin MacVeagh (1837–1934). Wolkonsky read a speech on “Memory and Respon- siveness as Instruments of Culture” at the convocation act on April 2. The prince was a very popular speaker and a welcome guest in the best houses of the city. He spoke on the past and present of Russia for the literary society Twentieth Century Club on April 7 and in the Unitarian Church (date unknown). 27 The culmination of Wolkonsky’s visit to Chicago was the course of six lectures on “Russia and Russian institutions,” read under the auspices of the Lecture-Study Department of the University Extension Division. Newspaper reports stated that the lectures were given at the request of famous residents who wanted to hear about Russia and its politics from a point of view of a Russian conservative. No doubt, this point of view was opposite to that of Kennan, of political refugees from Russia, and of representatives of the Jewish

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 community. As might be expected, immigrants opposed lectures by Wolkon- sky, claiming that he was paid by the tsarist government. 28 The documents demonstrate that this statement was incorrect. The lectures were scheduled on Mondays and Fridays at 8 pm. They were supposed to be in the recently built, luxurious Steinway Hall with 850 seats in downtown Chicago. Each lecture was preceded by a half-hour organ concert by Ada Williams. The first lecture on the history of Russia from 862 until the end of the Times of Troubles was held on April 6. The lecture was attended by the elite of Chicago. The other lectures were held on April 10 (on the first Romanovs and Peter the Great), April 13 (Catherine the Great), April 17 The Establishment of Russian Studies 93 (on Russia in the first decade of this century), April 20 (Nicholas I to the accession of Alexander II), and April 24 (on the 1860s, Alexander II and the liberation of the serfs, Turgenev, Dostoevsky, and Tolstoy). It should be noted that the first lecture in Chicago combined three Boston lectures. The lecture on Catherine the Great covered the period between the death of Peter the Great and death of Catherine the Great. The lecture on Russia in the first decade of this century was dedicated to the period from the accession of Paul I to the death of Alexander Pushkin. Wolkonsky was delighted with the reception of his lectures. He wrote to Norton that “in no place in the country have I had the feeling of touching all social classes the consciousness of not only ‘lecturing,’ not only offering entertainment, but—of doing a ‘work.’” Newspapers and university publications mentioned the huge popularity of lectures, though without mentioning the number of visitors. Wolkonsky’s lectures were considered by Chicago Daily Tribune as the most successful of all organized by the university in 1892. The newspaper hoped that the university would continue to offer lectures downtown.29 Wolkonsky also gave a speech entitled “Kent” at the university building on April 5. He talked on “The Social Theories of Leo Tolstoy,” in which he compared the works and social views of Leo Tolstoy and Fedor Dostoevsky. 30 On May 9, 1896, Wolkonsky sailed from New York to Europe. 31 Chicago newspapers and university publications practically did not pay attention to the content of Wolkonsky’s lectures. It could be assumed that Wolkonsky did not make any changes in the courses compared to the one at Boston. It was a tradition of Lowell Institute that the speaker prepared a book on lectures in English. Wolkonsky was no exception. Moreover, his lectures were published in two editions without changes in Russian, 32 English, 33 and German. 34 Wolkonsky was assured that the main task of his lectures was to interest a foreigner in Russia, to

disclose to all foreigners, what elevated, instructive, picturesque elements are in history of our country; show them all that the great names of our history and our literature raise in our minds, and what the spiritual food of an every educated Russian is; expose the best aspects of Russian people soul in the works of our poets and writers; give a sense to foreigners that

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the country of which most of them do not know anything other than stories about snow, wolves, and the secret police, contains a whole world unknown to them of spiritual pleasures. 35

Popular lectures by Wolkonsky broadly embraced the course of development of the state, society and social thought, art, and literature and were intended to destroy the negative image of Russia in the eyes of Americans. Wolkonsky could be defined as a conservative Westerner who saw the state as an engine of progress and rejected all those phenomena that could harm the country (such as nihilism or the teachings of Leo Tolstoy). 94 Pavel Tribunskiy There were no lectures on Russia at the University of Chicago between the lectures by S. M. Wolkonsky in April 1896 and the donation of Charles R. Crane of $10,000 for series of lectures on the history and culture of the Slavic world in January 1900. Public interest in Russia and the ambitious appeals of N. H. Dole (“to ‘get ahead’ of Harvard and all other colleges”) were not enough. Russian studies were seen in a newly established university as exotic, which could not attract a large number of students, especially if they had no opportunity to apply their knowledge and skills. Without the support of American academic and financial communities, Russian studies could survive only in a form of popular lectures and university extension lectures at the end of the nineteenth century. The activities of Hourwich and Wolkonsky, and the offer of A. S. Khesin, are examples of this reality. At first, instructors for lectures on Russia were recruited exclusively from representatives of Russian scholars abroad. They were in demand as an expert on Russia only in addition to their main specialty. Hourwich and Khesin sought recognition from the Western academic community for a successful career in the United States: Hourwich earned his PhD at Columbia Univer- sity, while Khesin received a diploma from Zurich Polytechnic Institute and completed a year of graduate school at Harvard. The lectures by Wolkonsky were possible only because of an unusual situation. The generous fee and travel allowance paid by the Lowell Institute allowed him to make a tour across the United States. The Russian government supported Wolkonsky’s lecture tour as an effective means of counterpropa- ganda against émigré insinuations and a possibility of creating a positive image of Russia among Americans.

Notes 1. I’m indebted to the editor in chief of Amerikanskii Ezhegodnik , V. V. Sogrin, for a permission to republish some parts of an early version of the article. I’m very grateful to archivist Miranda Rectenwald, Washington University in St. Louis, for providing me with some useful information on the topic. 2. C. A. Manning, A History of Slavic Studies in the United States (Milwaukee: Mar- quette University Press, 1957), Marquette Slavic studies, № 3; J. Ornstein, Slavic and East European Studies: Their Development and Status in the Western Hemisphere (Washington: Department of State, External Research Staff, Office of Intel- ligence Research, 1957), External Research Papers, № 129; A. Parry, America Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Learns Russian: A History of the Teaching of the Russian Language in the United States (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1967); T. Butler, “The Development of Slavic Studies in America at the End of the Nineteenth and the Beginning of the Twentieth Century,” Istoriia na slavistikata ot kraia na XIX i nachaloto na XX vek , red. kol. E. Georgiev, G. Dimov, S. Stoyanov, V. Tuprkova-Zaimova, K. Bosilkov (Sofia: Izd-vo na Bulgarskata akademiia na naukite, 1981), 267–271; W. Edgerton, “The History of Slavistic Scholarship in the United States,” Beiträge zur Geschichte der slawistik in nichtslawischen ländern, hrsg. von J. Hamm und G. Wytrzens (Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 1985), 491–528; R. F. Byrnes, A History of Russian and East European Studies in the United States: Selected Essays (Lanham, New York, London: University Press of America, 1994); E. V. Petrov, Istoriya amerikanskogo rossievedeniya: Kurs lektsii The Establishment of Russian Studies 95 (St. Petersburg, 1998). See also: N. E. Saul, Concord and Conflict: the United States and Russia, 1867–1914 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1996), 390–395; D.C. Engerman, Modernization from the Other Shore: American Intellectuals and the Romance of Russian Development (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003), 54–66. 3. J. C. Chalberg, Samuel Harper and Russia under the Tsars and Soviets, 1905–1943 , PhD Thesis (University of Minnesota, 1974); R. F. Byrnes, “Archibald Cary Coolidge: A Founder of Russian Studies in the United States,” Slavic Review 37, 4 (1978): 651–667; R. F. Byrnes, Awakening American Education to the World: The Role of Archibald Cary Coolidge, 1866–1928 (Notre Dame, London: University of Notre Dame Press, 1982); A. Dubie, Frank A. Golder: An Adventure of a Historian in Quest of Russian History (Boulder: East European Monographs; New York: Dis- tributed by Columbia University Press, 1989). 4. A. Parry, “Charles R. Crane, Friend of Russia,” Russian Review 6, 2 (1947): 28; J. E. Good, “America and the Russian Revolutionary Movement, 1888–1905 ,” Rus- sian Review 41, 3 (1982): 280–282; Y. Holowinsky, “Promoting Russian Liberal- ism in America,” Russian Review 49, 2 (1990): 167–174; D. B. Shillinglaw, “The University of Chicago’s Summer Lecture Program; Professor T. G. Masaryk before His Visit to the University”; T. G. Masaryk, The Lectures of Professor T.G. Masaryk at the University of Chicago: Summer 1902, ed. by D. B. Shillinglaw (Lewisburg; London: Bucknell University Press, 1978), 17–37; N. E. Saul, The Life and Times of Charles R. Crane, 1858–1939: American Businessman, Philanthropist, and a Founder of Russian Studies in America (Lanham; Boulder; New York; Toronto; Plymouth, UK: Lexington Books, 2012), 52–61. 5. I use the term “Russian scholars abroad” instead of “Russian émigré scholars.” The former is more adequate in describing the realities of the time. The term “Russian scholars abroad” (rossiiskoe nauchnoe zarubezhe) and its content are discussed in detail in: V. N. Borisov, “Nauchnoe zarubezhe Rossii: istoki i formirovanie,” Voprosi istorii estestvoznaniya i tekhniki 3 (1993): 29–34; V. N. Borisov, “Istoki i formirovanie rossiiskogo nauchnogo zarubezhya,” Kulturnoe nasledie russkoi emi- gratsii. 1917–1940, kn. 1 (Moskva: Nasledie, 1994), 284–291; M. Yu. Sorokina, “Rossiiskoe nauchnoe zarubezhe versus russkaya nauchnaya emigratsiya: K opre- deleniyu ob’ema i soderzhaniya ponyatiya Rossiiskoe nauchnoe zarubezhe,” Ezhe- godnik Doma russkogo zarubezhya imeni Aleksandra Solzhenitsyna, 2010 (Moskva: Dom russkogo zarubezhya imeni Aleksandra Solzhenitsyna, 2010), 75–94. 6. N. H. Dole to W. R. Harper, May 3, 1892; J. S. White to N. H. Dole, April 26, 1892, Special Collections Research Center. University of Chicago Library (hereafter SCRC), Office of the President Harper, Judson, and Burton Administrations, Records, Box 75. 7. N. H. Dole, Young Folks’ History of Russia (Boston: Estes and Lauriat, 1881); N. H. Dole, A Score of Famous Composers (New York: T. Y. Crowell, 1891); A. Ram- baud, History of Russia from the Earliest Times to 1882, transl. by L. B. Lang; ed. and enlarged by N. H. Dole, including a history of the Turko-Russian War of 1877–78, Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 from the best authorities, by the editor (Boston: D. Estes, 1879–1886), vol. 1–3; E. Dupuy, The Great Masters of Russian Literature in the Nineteenth Century, transl. by N. H. Dole (New York: T.G. Crowell & Co., 1886). 8. N. H. Dole to W. R. Harper, May 3, 1892, SCRC, Office of the President Harper, Judson, and Burton Administrations, Records, Box 75. 9. I. F. Hapgood, “A Russian Professorship. To the Editor of the Nation,” Nation 1407 (1892): 447; N. H. Dole, “The Russian Professorship. To the Editor of the Nation,” Nation 1409 (1892): 484–485; L. Wiener, “To the Editor of the Nation,” Nation 1409 (1892): 485; I. F. Hapgood, “The Russian Professorship. To the Editor of the Nation,” Nation 1411 (1892): 29–30. 10. N. H. Dole, “A Plea for the Study of Russian,” The Harvard Graduates’ Magazine III, 10 (1894): 180–185. 96 Pavel Tribunskiy 11. World’s Columbian Exposition 1893, Chicago. Catalogue of the Russian Section. Pub- lished by Imperial Russian Commission, Ministry of Finances (St. Petersburg: [Printed by order of the Imperial Russian commission for the participation of Russia at the World’s Columbian exposition 1893, by I. Libermann, and P. Soikin], 1893), VI, X; J. H. Barrows, The World’s Parliament of Religions: An Illustrated and Popular Story of the World’s First Parliament of Religions Held in Chicago in Connection with the Columbian Exposition of 1893 , vol. I (Chicago: The Parliament Publishing Com- pany, 1893), 89. On S. M. Wolkonsky see: N. Ya. Olesich, “Chem vishe piedestal, tem shire krugozor . . .,” S. M. Wolkonsky, Znamenitie universanty: Ocherki o pitomtsah Sankt- Peterburgskogo universiteta, t. 1 (St. Petersburg: Izd-vo Sankt-Peterburgskogo universiteta, 2002), 105–123; S. V. Kornilov, “Uti Umbra Dies Nostri: Knyaz’ S. M. Wolkonsky—chelovek i mislitel’,” Ideinoe nasledie I.A. Ilina i sovremennost’: sbornik nauchnogo trudov , ed. S. V. Kornilov (Kaliningrad: Izd-vo Rossiiskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta im. I. Kanta, 2008), 132–144; A. Murashev, Knyaz’ Wolkonsky. Sergei M.: Biograficheskie zarisovki (Ulan-Ude; Moskva, 2010). 12. S. Wolkonsky, Addresses (Chicago: J. C. Winship & Co., 1893); S. Wolkonsky, Impressions. Sketches of American Life as Observed by a Russian (Chicago: Unity Pub. Co., 1893). Two American trips (1893 and 1896) are described in S. M. Wol- konsky’s memoirs with a lot of errors. His narrative should be used carefully (see: S. M. Wolkonsky, Moi vospominaniya. Lavry. Stranstviya [Berlin: Mednii vsadnik, 1923], 248–269). 13. S. M. Wolkonsky to I. D. Delyanov, November 14, 1893, Rossiiskii gosudarstvennii istoricheskii arkhiv (hereafter RGIA), f. 733, op. 194, d. 1256, l. 213; A. Bocha- rov, “Na vistavke v Chicago,” Moskovskie vedomosti, 2 ijunya (1893): 3; 27 avgusta (1893): 4; 25 oktyabrya (1893): 3. 14. S. M. Wolkonsky to W. R. Harper, October 28, 1893, SCRC, W. R. Harper papers, Box 11. 15. On I. A. Hourwich see: I. A. Hourwich, “Autobiografiya,” Gosudarstvennii arkhiv Rossiiskoi Federatsii, f. R-5907, op. 1, d. 33, ll. 47–9; N. A. Bukhbinder, “Iosif Adol’fovich (Aronovich) Gurvich,” Katorga i ssilka 5 (1926): 239–240; “Hour- wich, Isaac A.,” Who Was Who in America: A Companion Volume to Who’s Who in America, 5th ed., vol. 1 (Chicago: A.N. Marquis, 1962), 591; M. Epstein, Profiles of Eleven: Biographical Sketches of Eleven Men Who Guided the Destiny of an Immi- grant Jewish Society (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1965), 255–268; L. P. Roshevskaya, “I. A. Gurvich v tobol’skoi ssilke,” Ssilka i katorga v Sibiri (XVIII— nachalo XX v.) (Novosibirsk: Nauka. Sibirskoe otdelenie, 1975), 177–190. 16. SCRC, University of Chicago, Board of Trustees, Minutes, vol. 1 (1890–1896): 102, 191, 302; J. L. Laughlin, Twenty-Five Years of the Department of Political Econ- omy. University of Chicago (Chicago: Privately printed, 1916), 6. 17. M. Epstein, op. cit., 258; D.C. Engerman, op. cit., 62. There’s no evidence in I. A. Hourwich’s papers that could shed light on the causes of the end of his academic career (I. A. Hourwich papers [RG 587], Archives YIVO Institute for Jewish Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Research [New York]). 18. Quarterly Calendar of the University of Chicago founded by John D. Rockefeller, II, 1 (1893): 64; II, 2 (1893): 42; II, 4 (1894): 114; III, 2 (1894): 114, 115; III, 3 (1894): 106, 107; III, 4 (1895): 142, 143. 19. SCRC, University of Chicago, Board of Trustees, Minutes, Vol. 1 (1890–1896): 248; Quarterly Calendar of the University of Chicago founded by John D. Rockefeller, II, 4 (1894): 97; III, 1 (1894): 112; III, 2 (1894): 99; III, 3 (1894): 153; III, 4 (1895): 125. 20. On A. S. Khesin, see: D. B. [D. K. Bobylev], “A. S. Khessin,” Entsiklopeditseskii slovar’, izd. F.A. Brokgauz i I.A. Efron, XXXVII, 73 (St. Petersburg: F.A. Brokgauz, I.A. Efron, 1903), 179–180; The Book of St. Louisans: A Biographical Dictionary of Leading Living Men of the City of St. Louis , ed. by J. W. Leonard (St. Louis: The Establishment of Russian Studies 97 The St. Louis Republic, 1906), 117–118; American Men of Science: A Biographi- cal Directory, ed. by J. Cattell, 7th ed. (Lancaster: The Science Press, 1944), 308; P. A. Tribunskiy, “U istokov rossievedeniya v SSHA: Materialy dlya biografii A. S. Khesina,” Problemy slavyanovedeniya: sbornik statei i materialov , ed. by S. I. Mikhal’chenko, 14 (Bryansk: Izd-vo Bryanskogo gosudarstvennogo universiteta; Ladomir, 2012), 127–135. 21. “Passenger Record for Alexandre Chessin,” http://www.russianimmigrants.org/ index.php?id=336310; A. S. Chessin to W. R. Harper, March 26, 1894, SCRC, Office of the President Harper, Judson, and Burton Administrations, Records, Box 75; American Men of Science : 308. 22. H. K. Smith, The History of the Lowell Institute (Boston, New York, London: Lam- son, Wolffe, 1898), 90; “Lectures. Columbia University Lectures for February,” New York Times , January 29, 1900: 10; January 30, 1900: 14; January 31, 1900: 14. 23. H. K. Smith, op. cit., 73, 80, 84, 92. 24. S. M. Wolkonsky to I. D. Delyanov, November 14, 1893, RGIA, f. 733, op. 194, d. 1256, l. 212 ob.; C. E. Norton, Letters , with biographical comment by his daughter Sara Norton and M. A. DeWolfe Howe, vol. 2 (Boston, New York, Cambridge: Houghton Mifflin, 1913), 240. 25. S. M. Wolkonsky—Ministry of Public Education, August 27, 1895, RGIA, f. 733, op. 121, d. 885, l. 89; Vsepoddaneishii doklad Ministra narodnogo prosvezheniya, September 30, 1895, RGIA, f. 733, op. 121, d. 885, 1, 90–90 ob.; Ministry of Public Education to S. M. Wolkonsky, October 4, 1895, RGIA, f. 733, op. 121, d. 885, 1, 91; S. M. Wolkonsky to C. E. Norton, September 7, 1895, October 28, 1895, October 29, 1895, December 10, 1895, C. E. Norton papers (MS Am 1088). № 7596, 7597, 7598, 7599, Houghton Library, Harvard University (hereafter HLHU); C. W. Eliot to C. E. Norton, December 10, 1895, RGIA, f. 733, op. 121, d. 885, № 7614; [Lecture notes], RGIA, f. 733, op. 121, d. 885; S. M. Wol- konsky, Vospominaniya : 261–262, 268; S. M. Wolkonsky, Ocherki russkoi istorii i russkoi literaturi: Publichnie lektsii, chitannie v Amerike (St. Petersburg: Tipo-lit. R.R. Golike, 1896), I–II; Lowell Lectures on Russian History and Russian Literature by Pr. Serge Wolkonsky. 1896 (St. Petersburg, 1895), 1–4; “The St. Paul’s Passengers. Complete List of Those in First and Second Cabins,” New York Times, January 26 (1896): 2; “Passengers Call it a Race,” New York Times: “Passenger Record for Serge Wolkonsky,” http://www.russianimmigrants.org/index.php?id=396035 26. S. M. Wolkonsky to W. R. Harper, February 12, [1896], SCRC, Office of the Presi- dent Harper, Judson, and Burton Administrations, Records, Box 85; W. R. Harper to S. M. Wolkonsky, February 18, 1896, W. R. Harper papers, Box 11. 27. N. E. Saul, Concord and Conflict , 374; S. M. Wolkonsky, Ocherki russkoi istorii i russkoi literaturi : II; “Russian Prince in Town,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 1, 1896: 4; “Society,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 2, 1896: 3; “Will Graduate this Afternoon. Spring Convocation at the University of Chicago,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 2, 1896: 9; “Out of School Halls. Fourteenth Quarterly Convocation Chicago Uni- versity,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 3, 1896: 3; “Talks to Twentieth Century Club. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Members Listen to a Lecture on Russia,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 8, 1896: 2; “Society,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 22, 1896: 3; “Events Scheduled for Future,” Chicago Sunday Tribune , April 5, 1896: 38; “Off for the Summer. Society People Locking Up Their Temporary Domiciles,” Chicago Sunday Tribune , April 26, 1896: 35; The Fourteenth Convocation. [University of Chicago]. The Spring. April Second A.D. Eighteen Hundred and Ninety Six (Chicago, 1896): 1; “Spring Convocation,” University of Chicago Weekly, IV, 25 (1896): 830. The speech of S. M. Wolkonsky: S. Wolkonsky, “Memory and Responsiveness as Instruments of Culture,” Univer- sity Record, I, 1 (1896): 1–5. 28. “Lectures by Prince Wolkonsky. Will Give His Views on ‘Russia and Russian Institutions,’” Chicago Sunday Tribune, March 22, 1896: 7; “Lectures by Prince 98 Pavel Tribunskiy Wolkonsky. To be Delivered under the Auspices of Chicago University,” Chicago Sunday Tribune, March 29, 1896: 8; “The University Extension Division. The Lecture-Study Department,” University Record, I, 1 (1896): 26. There’s no precise information on the number of emigrants in Chicago from Russia. In the days of World’s Columbian Exposition the journalist of “Mos- kovskie vedomosti,” A. Bocharov, determined the number of immigrants from Russia as 7,000. In another article, he increased the number up to 10,000. The overwhelming majority of immigrants from Russia were Jews (A. Bocharov, “Na vistavke v Chicago,” Moskovskie vedomosti, 2 ijunya 1893: 3; 27 avgusta 1893: 4; 8 septembrya 1893: 2). Scholars thought that “Great” Russians were only 2 percent of all the immigrants from Russia to the United States for the period of 1871–1898 (G. G. Govorchin, From Russia to America with Love: A Study of the Russian Immi- grants in the United States [Pittsburgh: Dorrance Pub. Co., 1993], 45). 29. “The University Extension Division. The Lecture-Study Department,” University Record I, 1 (1896): 26; “Prince Wolkonsky’s Lectures,” University of Chicago Weekly , IV, 26 (1896): 836; “Wolkonsky Lectures on Russia. Large Audience Greets the Prince at Steinway Hall,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 7, 1896: 7; “Prince Wolkon- sky’s Lectures,” Chicago Daily Tribune, April 20, 1896: 5; “Last of the Lectures on Russia. Prince Wolkonsky’s Course Expected to be Followed by Others in the Down- Town District,” Chicago Daily Tribune , April 25, 1896: 2; S. M. Wolkonsky to C. E. Norton, April 10, 1896, C. E. Norton papers (MS Am 1088), № 7604, HLHU. 30. “Events of the Week,” University Record I, 2 (1896): 51; “Prince Wolkonsky on Tolstoi. Compares His Writings with Those of Destoyensky” [sic], Chicago Daily Tribune, April 6, 1896: 9. 31. “Departures for Europe,” New York Times, May 9, 1896: 9. 32. S. M. Wolkonsky, Ocherki russkoi istorii i russkoi literaturi: Publichnie lektsii, chitannie v Amerike (St. Petersburg: Tipo-lit. R.R. Golike, 1896); S. M. Wolkonsky, Ocherki russkoi istorii i russkoi literaturi: Publichnie lektsii, chitannie v Amerike, 2-e izd. (St. Petersburg: Tipo-lit. R.R. Golike, 1897). 33. S. Wolkonsky, Pictures of Russian History and Russian Literature (Boston; New York; London: Lamson, Wolffe & Co., 1897); S. Wolkonsky, Pictures of Russian History and Russian Literature (London: Kegan Paul, 1898). 34. S. Wolkonsky, Bilder aus der Geschichte und Litteratur Russlands, autorisierte Uebers. von A. Hippius (Basel: F. E. Perthes aus Gotha, 1898); S. Wolkonsky, Bilder aus der Geschichte und Litteratur Russlands, autorisierte Uebers. von A. Hippius. 2. Aus- gabe (Gotha: F. E. Perthes, 1905). 35. S. M. Wolkonsky, Ocherki russkoi istorii i russkoi literature , VI. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 8 The Tsar’s Power Explained to America Notes from a 1905 Homily

Monica Cognolato

In 1905 in New York Cathedral, Tikhon Bellavin, archpastor of the Russian Orthodox Missionary Diocese in America, delivered a sermon on the anniversary of the Coronation of the Russian Emperor Nicholas II. The homily was pronounced in a crucial year for Russian history, which was already perceived by contemporaries as the possible turn to a new era, the beginning of a new epoch of reforms. Through this homiletic document, Tikhon allows his political theology to emerge, a theology he had elaborated for his flock and himself, in order to show the consistence of Orthodoxy also outside the historical patriarchates and surrounded by a different cultural pattern. The topic he selected for his speech was the traditional affirmation of the differences between populations and traditions and the respect owed to any legitimate form of government evolving from the spiritual and historical experience of a population. The future patriarch argued that every country is suited to a different form of government, which cannot adjust itself to other national experiences. He reflected on the entire gamut of qualities that the Russian sovereign had to embody, qualities that could not be found in a president. This homily remarkably fills a gap in our comprehension of the presence and approach of the Russian Orthodox Church toward American democracy at the beginning of the twentieth century; previously, only rare documents and occasional allusions had engaged the crucial question of an Orthodox comment on democracy. In the years 1904 and 1905, when Russia was embroiled in the war with Japan and British public opinion sided with the Nippon armies, enforcing the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 value of the treaty signed by Great Britain with Japan in January 1902, the United States reconsidered its good partner, the Romanov Empire. It now appeared to represent Asiatic despotism, peopled by a “barbaric horde” in opposition to Westernized Mieji Japan. Even though episodes of incomprehension had occurred before, during the preceding years the voices of many Russian-educated Americans praised the qualities of the Romanov Empire. However, their opinion was snuffed out by the clangor of war. Despite diplomatic warnings, 1 the American press had already developed an “aggressive attitude” during the first skirmishes, exemplified by the subsequent reaction of Arturo Cassini, the Russian ambassador to America and former ambassador 100 Monica Cognolato to China: “Russia has never ceased to wonder why the idea that she was willing and anxious to make war with Japan became so generally prevalent in the United States.” 2 In previous years, Nicholas II, his ministers, and his personal counsellors in St. Petersburg had convinced themselves of the need for a deeper intervention in Far Eastern affairs as an enlightening and civilizing duty—besides providing access to ice-free Pacific ports. These goals could be achieved as a modern edition of an “atavistic lust for conquest” or through the reinforcement of Russia’s economic influence in Eastern markets, thus realizing a peaceful penetration, as Minister of Finance Sergei Witte strongly insisted. Indeed, Russian interests proved to be seriously targeted to the East. Opinions such as those manifested by U.S. publicists echoed the fin-de-siècle Russian doubts on the formation of their empire, characterizing the cultural agendas of many intellectuals. As the debate between a European or Slavic proper identity continued, some argued that the real destiny Russia was supposed to fulfill was that of her Asiatic heritage as the ultimate cultural landscape left by the Mongol domination. 3 Meanwhile, 1905 was the year of the first Russian revolution. Industrial modernization and mass urbanization problems of a recently uprooted and dis- satisfied working class erupted in discontent: strikes, popular upheavals, xeno- phobic movements, and eventually pogroms. 4 People of the empire agitating for a different regime finally achieved, after bloody manifestations, the status of a constitutional monarchy in October 1905. 5 Requests for freedom of conscience and belief had already been answered in the act signed by the emperor in March of that same year. The clergy, especially the younger generation, having been educated on social commitment, strove for a different pastoral approach. These clergy also sought the revitalization and modernization of church assets, working to convene a pan-Russian local Council, which should be held as soon as possible. 6 Outside Russia, these movements encountered different reactions. American articles showing diffidence on these changes and indignation for those decisions perceived as hostile to the West settled finally into a diffuse sentiment of misunderstanding toward the Russian point of view. While news of the Kishinev pogrom of 1903 was already widespread in the world, the new wave of disorders troubled international opinion, which progressively attributed the primary cause of popular discontent to dissatisfaction with the form of autocratic government. 7

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 In the context of international disdain toward the Russian Empire, the Russian communities living in the United States especially suffered, not only because of their personal pride in response to public scorn of their country but also because of an inability to communicate their position without falling into a verbal or even physical clash. Their patterns of thought, as well as cultural and historical references, could seldom be understood because they stemmed from a vision of the world as totally different than that of the extreme Occi- dent. In front of such a wall of misunderstanding, what were Russian Ortho- dox immigrants’ reactions? Did they try to identify themselves with the new world’s position or side with the traditions of their motherland? The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 101 Providing a Link to a Disdained Empire Non-Jewish Russian immigrants 8 in America at the beginning of the twentieth century were affiliated for the most part with the Diocese of North Amer- ica and Alaska. It was the heir of the Russian Orthodox Mission that landed in 1794 at Kodiak Island, by the will of Empress Catherine II (1762–96). After the sale of Alaska to the United States in 1867, the Russian Holy Synod promoted the expansion of the already-established diocese to the entire continent, moving the See from Sitka first to San Francisco in 1870 and then to New York in 1905. 9 Meanwhile, the diocese had grown in numbers and complexity, favor- ing the cohabitation of many different nationalities within its confessional boundaries. If the records of the diocese showed 70,084 believers in 1907, only 4,142 of them were of Russian nationality, while the others were recorded as Galitians (8,141), Uhro-Rusyns (5,012), and Bucovinians (7,535), not to mention those coming from Serbia, Greece, the Syro-Arab patriarchates, or the Alaskan natives. 10 Between 1904 and 1905, Bishop Tikhon (Bellavin), future patriarch of Moscow and all Russia, was the archbishop administering the American See. 11 The diocese could count also on two newly ordained bishops, the Russian Innokentii (Pustynskii) as vicar residing in Alaska and the Russian-educated Bishop Raphael (Hawaweeny), born in Beirut of a Dam- ascene family, delegated to the Syro-Arab Mission and residing in Brooklyn. 12 Even though the project for Orthodoxy in America was being developed as a multinational Church, Russian patronization was not in doubt. 13 Eleven days after the Japanese attack on Port Arthur (February 8, 1904), Bishop Tikhon was already completely aware of the increasingly darkening climate around Russians in America, the result of a diplomatic stalemate. Writing about his future journeys through the continent to his long-time confident, who recently was elevated as metropolitan of Kiev, Flavian (Goro- detskii), Bishop Tikhon hinted at the heavy atmosphere surrounding the Russian community. He observed how difficult even the reception of a Rus- sian Pavilion would be at the St. Louis International Exposition that was scheduled to open in April, as not only the war with Japan but American predisposition itself was at the moment particularly lamentable. Even artistic or scientific international appearances would suffer the widespread effects of the anti-Russian sentiment. Two weeks later, in another letter, Tikhon tried to explain to Metropolitan Flavian the growing disaffection between the two Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 nations, assuming stances already expressed by many experts in international affairs. Hostilities toward Russia were grounded on the high incomes resulting from the Japan trade, on a “shopkeepers” mentality, an element not to under- estimate in diplomacy. As a solution, he argued for the appointment of Witte to minister of foreign affairs because he was the only one able to understand well such a mentality; therefore, he could reassure friendship with the United States and avoid the “present diplomatic noodles.” 14 As its leaders were mostly Russian, the diocese was externally perceived as a source of information on Imperial opinion, rather than as a multifaceted 102 Monica Cognolato organism. Even Bishop Innokentii, who had just arrived from Europe, was annoyed by the American press’ curiosity and was immediately questioned about war sentiments in Russia. 15 The diocese genuinely followed with deep apprehension the Imperial adventures in the Far East as the Orthodox diocese found itself on the first line of defense from the very beginnings of war. Two Russian ships built in Philadelphia belonged to the Pacific battalion. The Variag, an armored cruiser, after being surrounded by the Japanese army, was scuttled by its crew in Chemulpo (a Korean harbor) rather than surrendering to the enemy. The battleship Retvizan was instead floating in Port Arthur. 16 On that same night, Bishop Tikhon and the priests of both Philadelphia and New York gathered; they drafted and sent a telegram to the commander of the Retvizan , which was continuing to fight in the Pacific Ocean. Its crew had been among the founders of the Philadelphia Orthodox parish and had wanted to endow the boat with a chapel that was consecrated by Tikhon in 1902. 17 Father Aleksandr Khotovitskii, priest at New York Cathedral and editor of the Diocesan Herald, the Amerikanskii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik, waited for the arrival of the Saint Petersburg Vedomosti to comment on the war, reporting only the opinions of well-informed Americans trying to counteract the local press. He promoted prayer meetings for the soldiers and the prisoners of war. To this end, on May 27 and July 10, he gathered embassy personnel and other Rus- sians in St. Nicholas Cathedral in New York. The evening passed in patriotic conviviality. The Retvizan’s crew members were celebrated as heroes. Fund- raising campaigns were launched to support the Russian Red Cross. Not only Russian citizens participated; even their coparishioners of different origins and Americans shared in the festivities. 18 Subsequently, Fr. Aleksandr issued a supplement issue dedicated to the conflict, authoring poetic compositions full of patriotic ardor. The usual six monthly English Supplements also contained pages on the war, acquainting English readers with the diocesan point of view. 19 The diocesan assistance evolved into an active collaboration with the Rus- sian mission in Japan, which was allowed to look after Russian prisoners of war. Tikhon began an epistolary exchange with the local Bishop Nikolai (Kasat- kin), later canonized as Saint and Enlightener of Japan. Their correspondence dealt mainly with daily war preoccupations, but Tikhon also took advantage

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of this preferential connection to inquire about the Japanese Mission’s ecclesiological model and its consolidated practices, as the letters printed in the Diocesan Herald demonstrate. 20 The American Diocese functioned as the col- lector of donations for buying candles for Russian prisoners of war in Japan for Easter celebrations in 1905. Nevertheless, in the long run, it was evident that donations came mostly from Russia, as the collection was publicized also through the Tserkovnye Vedomosti. Members of the diocesan flock only rarely appeared as subscribers. 21 Only after the final defeat did Tikhon report to vice- ober-prokurator Viktor Sabler some of the mourning reactions of his flock: several Slavic people missed work, while an Arab fasted for days. 22 The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 103 Prince of Peace, Emperor Forced to War By writing to Metropolitan Flavian, Tikhon seems to have contented himself with a stereotypical answer to the growing division between the United States and Russia; nonetheless, his thinking advanced in the following months. Recognizing that the diverging forms of government between the Romanov Empire and the American democracy was the ultimate determining factor of Western contempt, he offered his flock his meditations, first preaching in St. Nikolai Cathedral and then with a printed edition of his homily. In order to promote understanding among the non-Russian speakers, the text was circulated also in an English version. 23 The many liturgical festivities linked to the Emperor had repeatedly permitted the American bishop to convey his ruminations on autocracy to his flock; he was impelled by events, 24 critics, and the comparison of Russia with the democracy surrounding him. However, it was only in the midst of the first Revolution that he expounded an organized defense of autocracy, addressing it not only to his parishioners but also to “the honest thinkers of this country . . . to give them a true idea as to what autocracy truly is in Russia”:

We who live far from our country, in a strange land, amongst people who know little or nothing concerning our country, and its institutions, often hear reproaches, condemnation and derision of institutions which are natural and dear to us. These reproaches are especially often directed against the autocracy, one of the foundations of the Russian State. Many in this country imagine it to be a “bogey”; eastern despotism, tyranny, Asiatic darkness. To it are ascribed all the failures, miscalculations, and disorders of the Russian land. 25

The Emperor’s figure was essential in the symphonic vision of the powers animating the Russian State, a model descending directly from its Byzantine legacy. The Tsar’s autocratic power (he bore the title of samoderzhavnyi ) was considered an achievement for the stable government of the Empire “which had come to it by the way of long suffering, civil wars, or princes and grievous slavery of alien rule”; its limitless authority (the second title of the Emperor until 1905 was neogranichennyi ) furthermore provided a guarantee for the Orthodox oikumene . In justification of these prerogatives, he should maintain Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 independence from other human powers, keep equanimity in administering justice between human ranks, and protect the needy and the poor from abuse. He was allowed, moreover, to extend his care (and jurisdiction) beyond frontiers, as for Orthodox missions abroad. In accomplishing his duties, the tsar responded constitutively concerning the Kingdom to come that the Russian Orthodox Church wanted to realize on Earth. In 1899, Tsar Nicholas II had impressed Tikhon with his invitation to summon the “Le Hague” Peace Con- ference. Tikhon had called the tsar the “Prince of Peace,” seeing the realization of his role as a Christian ruler. 26 In May of 1904, already during the war, 104 Monica Cognolato on the occasion of the emperor’s birthday, Tikhon had compared Nikolai’s figure to that of Job, bearing on his person not only the calamities affecting the Empire but also its faults—and the duty to seek a cure. Eventually in 1905, Bishop Tikhon grounded autocracy itself in the Old Testament model of the King:

It must be autonomous, not limited, and independent either of the mighty or of the rich. Otherwise it could not fulfil its destiny, because it would forever be forced to fight for its existence for fear of being overthrown. It would have to please the rich and the mighty and the influential, serving truth as it is understood by the latter, doing human justice and not the justice of God. The Tsar in Russia has power and freedom of action as great as is possible for a human being. . . . He stands immeasurably higher than all parties, all professions, all conditions. He is disinterested . . . he stands so high that to his greatness no one can add anything, or take anything. “He receives no favors from the hand of any of his subjects, but on the contrary he distributes gifts to them himself.” He does not seek his own interests, but seeks the good of his people, so that he may “arrange all for the good of the people entrusted to him, and for the Glory of God.” 27

Politically, Tikhon plainly draws ideas from Russian conservatism. Tra- ditional topics entered the homily: The size of the Russian Empire requires autocracy as the only kathecon capable of preventing complete ruin, and the goal of bonum commune is entrusted to the tsar from above. This traditional approach on governance, moreover, relies on feelings, rather than dwelling on speculation, as do Western juridical debates. Peasants referred to the tsar as the “Father” of the people. As Tikhon explains, “a Russian imbibes with his mother’s milk a true affection for his Tsar . . . in later years he develops this love into an enthusiastic reverence . . . he shows perfect obedience and devotion to his Tsar.” While fame of easy accessibility accompanied the Romanov dynasty, 28 Russian traditional thought also presented the figure of the sovereign as one capable of sympathetically understanding the subjects’ exigencies and of becoming the cure to evils by his/her sole presence. This emerges clearly in the well-known saying that the absence of the two main authorities—“God is

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 high, the Tsar is far”—creates the conditions for all kinds of problems. The tsar becomes de facto the one responsible for order on earth. There was, however, an obstacle to perfect governance in Russia. Bureaucracy was commonly accused of depriving the autocrat of his authority: it “has assured all the reins of power,” and it “creates a wall between the Tsar and the nation, so that the voice and the needs of the nation do not reach the Tsar.” In his homily, Tikhon opposes this opinion, stating that the tsar himself invited the worthiest people “to take part in the preparatory working out and discussion of juridical plans.”29 Although claiming the application of a traditional worldview in Empire administration, Russian conservatism, as argued by Richard Pipes, also has The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 105 Western roots. Peter the Great (reigned 1682–1725) introduced the arguments of Montesquieu on Laws and Separation of Powers. Only later did Cath- erine II (reigned 1762–96) adapt them to a Russian context. They provided the core for successive disquisitions advanced by historians V. N. Tatishchev and N. Karamzin, who confronted Montesquieu’s theories with the Russian case. The influences of Restoration thinkers such as De Maistre and De Bon- ald, moreover, entered the picture thanks to Chaadaev’s contribution to the debate about the place the Russian Empire should occupy in world history. Resultantly, the Slavophiles provided a guiding role in the world’s destinies for their empire in the theory commonly known as the Russian Idea. The main authority in the administration of the American mission for Tik- hon was the famous High Procurator Konstantin Pobedonostsev, who made no mystery of his support of such a school of thought. 30 However the young bishop did not completely follow the ideological positions of his superior. He chose a different ecclesiological position from that of Pobedonostsev. He was hardly alone, as professors in Russia’s theological academies, and even parish clergy, also wanted reforms. Being outside Russia did not prevent Tikhon from keeping up with the latest currents of thought, which helped him to confront his daily challenges. Nevertheless, the homily of May 1905 embraces the theories of Russian political conservatism, even though living in the Ameri- can context suggested other possible alternatives to the young bishop. In the United States, for example, besides the Russian tsar, the president had been included on prayer lists in Orthodox liturgical services since the controversial Bishop Vladimir (Sokolovskii) began leading the American Diocese (1888– 1891). Though recognizing “that all authority, even the authority of a republican people, must be obeyed; for authority comes from God” according to the Pauline letter to the Romans, 31 Tikhon remained perplexed about democratic life: “we live in a land where the people rules itself, choosing its own officials. Yet are these officials always equal to their high calling? Are there no great abuses here?” He considered the features of lobbies and broken electoral prom- ises among the dark corners of democracy:

As to the rule of the people, beloved of some types of men, it is an error to think that the people themselves can govern a country. It is supposed that the nation in national assemblies makes laws and elects officials. But

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 this is so in theory only and would be possible only in a state composed of a single moderately-sizes town. But in reality it is not so. The great masses of the people are oppressed by the cares of their daily lives, and, unac- quainted with the higher objects of state, do not profit by their “autocracy.” They hand over their rights to a few chosen people, who have their favor. How the elections are conducted, what means are used in order to be elected, there is no need to say here. You have seen it all yourselves. And so the people do not rule, but the elected, (chosen not by the whole people, but by a part of the people, a majority, a party) who, in ruling, do not express the will of the whole people, but only of their own 106 Monica Cognolato partisans. At times they express solely their own will, forgetting the prom- ises that they made before the election, caring for the good and interest only of their own party, and treating the members of the opposing party in a despotic way by oppressing it, and thrusting it out of power by all possible means.

Here the bishop switches perspectives, referring to the relationship between parties as despotic and elections as a betrayal of the autocratic power conferred on the people. He notices how some claimed for Russia such an “unsatisfactory order,” explaining that the main reason lay in the fact that “this order exists among other nations who are better educated than we Russians are.” 32 Tik- hon identifies as the greatest illness of his people the Russians’ shame about their traditions when abroad, an inferiority complex he explained as created by the curious glances of strangers. He often lamented that in America making the sign of the cross in front of a church or praying before and after meals were perceived as the simple manifestations of uneducated people. 33 Immi- grants ashamed of their customs and rituals gave up some traditional practices, instead getting used to new ways. Tikhon argued that, similarly, the introduction of democracy into Russia would be the result of insecurity among Rus- sians about their proper identity and fascination with foreign ideas. 34 As was the case with customs, however, Western powers would not consider Russia on par with them until Russia adopted their political and civil regulations. Since the fundamentals of the Empire could not match those of the French Revolu- tion’s achievements on which the Western world had been slowly building, the Russian mentality as well would follow a different pattern, resulting in a mutual lack of understanding. 35 Russia will always be a colossus with feet of clay, so long as it has not established at home Western constitutionalism, law, and representative institutions. And of late, our own homemade politicians have begun to repeat the cry of detractors: “Down with Autocracy!” Tikhon also warned of the dangers implied by any radical changes in political order: “trying experiments with changes of the order of the state is no easy work: it may shake the very foundations of the state, instead of helping the existing conditions and correcting a few deficiencies.” He underlined the importance of maintaining love and respect for Russia’s traditional way of life, in order to avoid bloody disorders. The civil, social, and ecclesial battles

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 fought in Russia were under the lens of the immigrants as well. The Russian world was changing while they were absent from home; however, from abroad they could continue to defend and explain the reasons for these changes. Tikhon reserved an important place for his flock, considering its members cultural interpreters. American Orthodoxy was called to explain political differences abroad, as well as the possible cohabitation of the two countries in the world. He had linked autocracy to Russian peculiarities and history, and only Russians could explain it to others. 36 He stated: “only those institutions are stable and real which are firmly established in the past of a given nation, and have arisen from the peculiarities of its spirit . . . autocracy is more akin The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 107 to the Russian spirit,” concluding that “what is good for one proves useless for another.” In a note, he summed up as follows: “We do not hesitate to maintain that autocracy better corresponds with the idea of supreme power, and with the order of the Russian State, in connection with the conditions of spiritual developments, customs, race, geography, and so forth. 37

Conclusions The Russo-Japanese war shook an already shaky idyll between the Romanov Empire and the United States, uncovering deep feelings of incomprehension. Leaders of the Orthodox Diocese of Russian origin or education were on the front lines, providing a context in which immigrants could identify themselves, even in the surrounding hostile climate. It is possible to recognize two different cultural strategies pursued by the clergy. Father Khotovitskii and Father Dabovich concentrated their actions on purely practical and specific matters. Their policies emphasized a sense of belonging to the Russian Mother Church in the immigrants’ community. In those years, the project suggested for the multinational diocese was that of creating an American Holy Rus’ by narrating a common history, constructing sacred edifices, and organizing a well-oiled administering institution. Khotovitskii, Hawaweeny, and Dabo- vich conducted themselves in ways that would augment identification with this transnational project. The defense of a common diocesan image, together with the reminders of shared experiences, created a recognizable common memory. Collecting donations to help prisoners of war and foregrounding the heroic behavior of the Philadelphia former parishioners were not only patriotic responses but also representative features of these unifying operations. 38 On a second level, Tikhon chose to show his flock both political systems (American and Russian) as inscribed into the historical development of a nation. Each one was supposed to represent the spirit of a nation. The bases of his interpretations were those sustaining his devotion to his motherland’s institutions. However, he quickly hinted at the possibility of changes in these institutions, warning of various possible dangers that could follow. As for the concrete interests autocracy could represent for the American Diocese, it is obvious that limiting the powers of the emperor would also limit his role in the American Holy Rus’. To be sure, there were groups of immigrants already

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 lamenting the excessive importance and presence of the Russian emperor in the diocese of the New World. They called it “tsareslavie” (tzardoxy, the term refers with a contemptuous meaning to the equilibrium established between the Orthodox Church and the tzars since the reforms of Peter the Great) and pressed for the Americanization of the local church. As the leader of the diocese, Tikhon could not avoid reflecting on such questions, even though they could lead to filetism or ecclesiological anarchy. The Russian hierarchy at this moment chose to be faithfully attached to the symphonic model. The diocese tried to acknowledge the immigrants’ feelings of frustration and channel them into constructive directions. Prayer meetings and collections of 108 Monica Cognolato donations provided the first answers, accompanied later by cultural activities of identity strengthening. The most powerful solution was to encourage immi- grant community members to play the role of cultural interpreters so that they could express the features of their culture, rather than hiding them.

Notes 1. “Whatever happens, let us be impartial and just. It is not our fight. We owe nothing to Japan, and Russia was our friend in the hour of our most bitter need.” George CreiWeb, “Will America be ungrateful?” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Supplement 1 (1904, January): 26–29. The article reports about a letter addressed to the New York Herald, January 15, 1904, by a former secretary of the U.S. legation in St. Petersburg (1893–1896). Outspokenly anti-Russian George Creighton Webb, however, is here definitely opposed to a bellicose Japan. Norman E. Saul, Concord and Conflict. The United States and Russia, 1867–1914 (Lawrence: Uni- versity of Kansas Press, 1996), 421–527; Sidney Pash, The Currents of War. A New History of American-Japanese Relations 1899–1941 (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 2014). 2. Artur Cassini, “Russia in the Far East,” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Sup- plement 1 (1904, January): 142–58. 3. David Schimmelpenninck van der Oye, Toward the Rising Sun. Russian Ideologies of Empire and the Path to War with Japan (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2006), 194–195. David Schimmelpenninck van der Oye, Russian Orientalism. Asia in the Russian Mind from Peter the Great to the Emigration (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2010), 199–240; Vera Tolz, Russia’s Own Orient. The Politics of Identity and Oriental Studies in the Late Imperial and Early Soviet Periods (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011). 4. Ian D. Thatcher, Late Imperial Russia. Problems and Perspectives (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 2005), 101–19. 5. Abraham Ascher, T he Revolution of 1905, Russia in Disarray (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1988); Reginald E. Zelnick, “Revolutionary Russia 1890–1914,” in Russia: A History, ed. by Gregory Freeze (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009), 234–68. An entire issue of Cahiers du Monde Russes was recently dedicated to the year 1905: Le résonances de 1905 , 2–3 (2007). 6. James J. Cunningham, A Vanquished Hope. The Movement for Church Renewal in Russia, 1905–1906 (Crestwood: St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 1981); Pier Cesare Bori and Paolo Bettiolo, Movimenti religiosi in Russia prima della Rivoluzione (1900– 1917) (Brescia: Queriniana, 1978); Hyacinthe Destivelle, La chiesa del concilio di Mosca (Magnano: Qjqaion, 2003), 17–76; Jennifer Hedda, His Kingdom Come. Orthodox Pastorship and Social Activism in Revolutionary Russia (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2008), 153–97. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 7. Arthur W. Thompson and Robert A. Hart, The Uncertain Crusade. America and the Russian Revolution of 1905 (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1970). 8. Ann E. Healy, “Tsarist Antisemitism and Russian-American Relations,” Slavic Review 3 (1983): 408–25; Eric L. Goldstein, “The Great Wave: Eastern European Jewish Immigration to the United States, 1880–1924,” in The Columbia History of Jews and Judaism in America , ed. Marc Lee Raphael (New York: Columbia Univer- sity Press, 2008), 70–92. 9. Bishop Gregory (Afonsky), A History of the Orthodox Church in Alaska 1794–1917 (Kodiak: St. Herman’s Theological Seminary Press, 1977); Constance J. Tarasar and John H. Erickson, Orthodox America 1794–1976. Development of the Ortho- dox Church in America (Syosset NY: Orthodox Church in America, 1975); Mark The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 109 Stokoe and Leonid Kishkovsky, Orthodox Christians in North America 1794–1994 (Syosset NY: Orthodox Christians Publication Center, 1995); Andrei B. Efimov and Oksana V. Lasaeva, Aleutskaia i Severo-Amerikanskaia eparkhiia pri Sviatitele Tikhone (Moscow: PSTGU, 2012). 10. “Alaska Russian Church Archives” (ARCA) microfilm edition, Manuscript Divi- sion, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C., D 438, Reel 281, 230–231; D 457, Reel 292, 135–136, 147–148; Monica Cognolato, The Orthodox Church Does Not Build on Other People’s Foundations. The Orthodox Church in America during Bishop Tikhon’s years (1898–1907) , PhD dissertation (University of Padova, 2014), 232. 11. Bishop Tikhon administered the North American Diocese in the years 1898– 1907. Jane Swan, A Biography of Patriarch Tikhon (Jordanville: Holy Trinity Rus- sian Orthodox Monastery, 1964); Mikhail E. Gubonin, Sovremenniki o patriarkhe Tikhone (Moscow: PSTGU, 2012). 12. Rural deans were Russian, too, as father Ioann Nezdel’nitskii was charged with Russian Churches in Eastern America, father Feodor Pashkovskii with the Russian Churches in Western America, and father Alexander Kedrovskii with the Russian Churches of the Unalaska Deanery; ARCA, D454, Reel 289, 253–254; George M. Soldatov comp., Preosviaschennyi episkop Innokentii (Pustynskii) i Aliaskinskoe vikariatstvo 1902–1909 (Minneapolis: Soldatow, 2012); André Issa, Our Father among the Saints Raphael Bishop of Brooklyn “Good Shepherd of the Lost Sheeps in America” (Englewood NJ: Antakya Press, 2000). 13. The official document presented in 1905 to the Holy Synod about Tikhon’s project on the American Diocese has already been widely spread. Archimandrite Serafim, The Quest for Orthodox Church Unity in America (New York: Saint Boris and Gleb Press, 1973), 25–26; or “Documents, 1,” St. Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 1 (1975): 49–50 [originally published as “Suzhdeniia po voprosam, predlozhennym k razmotreniiu na Pomestnom Sobore Vserossiiskoi Tserkvi,” Amerikanskii Pravo- slavnyi Vestnik, 23 (1905), 461.]. 14. “To the Metropolitan of Kiev Flavian Gorodetskii,” February 3 and 18, 1904, in Andrei V. Popov, Pis’ma sviatitelia Tikhona. Amerikanskii period zhizni i deiatel’nosti sviatitelia Tikhona Moskovskogo (St. Petersburg: SATIS’, 2010), 164, 166. 15. “Russian Bishop arrives. Tells of Patriotic Ardor War with Japan Has Aroused,” New York Times , March 9, 1904: 9. 16. Evgeny Sergeev, Russian Military Intelligence in the War with Japan. Secret Operations on Land and at Sea (London; New York: Routledge, 2007), 58–61; Aaron Cohen, “Long Ago and Far Away: War monuments, Public Relations, and the Memory of the Russo-Japanese War in Russia 1907–1914,” Russian Review 69 (2010): 388–411. 17. On the history of the Philadelphia parish, Efimov and Lasaeva, Aleutskaia , 154– 159; “Speech at the Consecration of a Church on the Battleship Retvizan, Phil- adelphia March 16, 1902,” The Orthodox Word 5 (2008): 241–244. About the telegram, Aleksandr Khotovitskii, “Spasi, Gospodi, liudi Tvoia!,” Amerikanskii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik 4 (1904): 7; Popov, P is’ma , 165. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 18. “Staryi drug’’ luchshe novykh’’ dvukh,’’ Amerikanskii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik 3 (1904): 56–57. Reports of these meetings were renowned also in Russia Pribavleniia tserkovnii vestnik 12 (1904): 444–445, 453. Russian priests were the first to answer the collection, followed by a donation from the Syro-Arab Mission, organized by bishop Raphael. “Otto L. Petersen of Brooklyn Sends $500 for the Korietz and Variag Survivors,” New York Times, March 12, 1904, accessed August, 12, 2014. http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?res=9907E0D8133EE733A25751 C1A9659C946597D6CF. See also the letter to the Emperor accompanying donations, “Vsepoddaneishee pis’mo na imia Gosudaria Imperatora Nikolaia Aleksan- drovicha ot 29 aprelia 1904 goda,” in Propovedi i poucheniia Sviatitelia Tikhona , ed. Sergei Shirokov (Sergiev Posad: Sretenskii Monastyr’, 2001), 117–18. 110 Monica Cognolato 19. Fr. Sebastian Dabovich, “A Few facts and a Bit of History by a Native American,” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Supplement 1(1904, January): 159–168. This article by Dabovich, a Serb born in San Francisco and educated in the Rus- sian Theological Academies, is particularly interesting. He does not avoid the thorny question of the Jewish treatment in Russia, which provoked indignation some years before on the publication of the Kennan reports. He used the well- known arguments of comparing the Jews’ situation in Russia with that of the American Negroes and reminded Americans that it was Russia, not England, that had been friendly during their worst times. 20. “Pis’mo Preosviashchenneishago Nikolaia, Episkopa Iaponskago, k Preosviash- chenneishemu Tikhonu; Episkopu Aleutskomu i S.-Amerikanskomu,”Amerikanskii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik 4 (1905): 64–65; 9 (1905): 165–167; 12 (1905): 228–231; 10 (1906): 191–195. 21. Telegrams and lists of donations are recorded in the archive at the LC. Main donations came from Brotherhood from Canada, Osceola-Philippsburg, Murom, Riazan’, Kharkov’, Kursk, Odessa, Iaroslavl’, Olonets’, Moscow, Pochaev, Vologda, the Don region, Tobol’sk, Voronezh, Ekaterinoslav, St. Petersburg. ARCA D480, Reel 304, 558–559, 562–596. The Tserkovnye Vedomosti published the subscription in no. 11 (1905). 22. To Flavian, July 20, 1904; Dec. 16, 1904; Jan 31, 1905; to Sabler, Feb. 1, 1905; Popov, P is’ma , 172, 175–176, 181, 182. 23. “A Sermon Delivered by the Right Reverend Archbishop Tikhon on the Anni- versary of the Coronation of the Emperor,” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Supplement (1905, May) in ARCA D454, Reel 289, 58–63. Quotations refers to this version with some corrections. [I thank prof. Valeria Nollan for her work on these quotations and on editing the whole article.] Russian original in Amerikan- skii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik 10 (1905): 184–186. Reprinted in Shirokov, Propovedi , 129–136. 24. Tikhon invoked Peter I’s “truncheon” against 1905 instigators to revolt. To Petr Bulgakov April 4, 1905, in Popov, Pis’ma, 184. 25. Ibid. 26. Compare “Sermon on the Feast of the Nativity, Dec. 25th, 1899/ Jan. 6th, 1900,” The Orthodox Word 5 (2008): 240, and “Reflections on the Birth of Christ,” Ameri- kanskii Pravoslavnyi Vestnik 24 (1900): 484–487. Reprinted in Patriarkh Tikhon, Zaviety i Nastavlenia Amerikanskoi Pravoslavnoi Rusi ego Sviateishestva Patriarkha Moskovskago i vseia Rossii (New York: Izd. Komitet’ pri siato-Nikolaevskom’ Kafedral’nom’ Sobore, 1924), 9–12, 44–46. 27. “An Address Delivered by the Right Reverend Tikhon on the Occasion of the Birthday of the Emperor Nicholas II,” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Sup- plement 1 (1904, January): 135–141. Delivered May 19, 1904. He quoted Psalm 72 in evoking the qualities of a right King. In the Psalm, David begged God to concede Solomon such qualities. 28. Marc Raeff, Comprendre l’ancien régime russe: Etat et société en Russie impériale Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1982). 29. Tikhon accused Russian bureaucracy of delaying reforms in “Letter to Flavian Apr 25th, 1905,” in Popov, Pis’ma , 186–187. 30. Richard Pipes, Russian Conservatism and its Critics. A Study in Political Culture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005); Konstantin P. Pobedonostsev, Reflections of a Russian Statesman (London: Grant Richards, 1898). On Russian autocracy and the opinions on its formation, see Alexander Yanov, The Origins of Autocracy: Ivan the Terrible in Russian History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981). 31. Letter to the Romans 13, 1–7. 32. In those same years, Russian liberals and anarchists toured the United States, lecturing on political reforms that should be introduced in the Empire. Saul, Concord , 461–464. The Tsar’s Power Explained to America 111 33. Tikhon often lamented the risk of complete Americanization of his flock. See, for example, “Sermon on the Orthodox Week,” Russian Orthodox American Messenger Supplement 1, 1903, January): 74–75. In ARCA D455, Reel 290, 570–571. 34. The topic of Russian superficiality in receiving Western thought was crystal- lized by the contribution of Nikolai Berdiaev in Vekhi on the failure of the 1905 expectations. Nikolai Berdiaev, “Philosophical Verity and Intelligentsia Truth, ” in Vekhi. Landmarks (New York: M. E. Sharpe, 1994). 35. Laura Engelstein, A Slavophile Empire (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2009), Introduction. 36. Tikhon seems to assume even the questionable Slavophile perspective on identifying national cultural types to which Christianity adapted itself. Vera Shevzov, “The Burdens of Tradition: Orthodox Constructions of the West in Russia (Late 19th-Early 20th cc.),” in Orthodox Constructions of the West, ed. George E. Dema- copoulos, Aristotle Papanikolau (New York: Fordham UP, 2013), 83–101. 37. This quotation echoed the affirmations expressed in Considerations sur la France by De Maistre. Vera Myltchina, “Joseph de Maistre’s Works in Russia: A Look at their Reception,” in J oseph de Maistre’s Life, Thought and Influence: Selected Studies , ed. Richard Lebrun (Montreal: McGill Queen’s University Press, 2001), 241–270. 38. Cognolato, “The Orthodox Church ,” 94–110. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 9 A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers Maxim Gorky’s Critique of America via Dostoevsky

Erich Lippman

Maxim Gorky’s visit to the United States in 1906 is perhaps one of the most famous or infamous examples of a “failure to communicate” across cultural boundaries in the history of Russian-American relations. The lofty goals of his visit combined with the drama of the scandal that ensued and Gorky’s own failure to respond appropriately to the situation led to significant humiliation for the author. Whether driven by the personal sting of his embarrassment, the ideological goals of his visit, or the intelligentsia culture that informed his perspective, Gorky’s response was dramatic and morally condescending. 1 It heavily colored subsequent Soviet imagination of American capitalism as “undisguised, cynical robbery of the masses.” 2 As Abbot Gleason rightly points out, “an enormous amount has been written about Gorky’s visit to America and why his reportage about the United States turned out to be so extravagantly and venomously negative.” 3 This study does not purport to add to that debate but rather focuses on the peculiar reference to Dostoevsky’s literary works and style that suffuse Gorky’s critique of the United States. It argues that, as Gorky’s role as a writer changed, he employed the style and literary technique of his erstwhile literary nemesis while inverting the conclusions to which Dosto- evsky’s works ultimately led by identifying them with American morality.

Fundraising Gone Awry Gorky’s visit to the United States was organized by a host of literary and socially conscious luminaries, including William Dean Howells, Mark Twain,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 and Jane Addams. His goal was to raise awareness and financial support for the revolutionary movement then underway in Russia—the same movement that led to his expulsion from that country in 1905. More specifically, and unbe- knownst to the general public, he hoped to raise money for the Bolsheviks, whose reputation had not yet been established on a global scale. Initially, all went well, as Gorky told a New York Times correspondent, “This is the country of all countries to which the social revolutionists can look with hope. In this will be worked out the salvation of humanity.” 4 However, Gorky’s opinion of the United States soon took a turn for the worse, due at least partly to the Russian embassy’s understanding of American A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 113 culture. After various diplomatic failures to prevent Gorky’s entry into the United States, the embassy leaked to the newspaper The World that Gorky was visiting the United States with his actress consort Maria Andreeva, not with his wife, as he always introduced her. It implied that his real wife, Ekaterina Peshkova, and his son, Maxim, had been abandoned in Russia. When this article was published and then republished with various flourishes in numerous papers around the city, Gorky quickly found himself homeless and with little support. No New York hotel would tolerate the presence of someone so willing to violate the sacred obligations of marriage and family. Despite Gorky’s protests that he and Peshkova had separated amiably and were still friends but could not get a divorce because of the strict divorce prohibitions of the Russian Orthodox Church, he and Andreeva were ejected from three hotels in 24 hours, finding themselves quite literally standing on a New York street corner in the middle of the night with nowhere to go. Eventually, sympathizers would come to the rescue, offering them shelter at a private residence. 5 H. G. Wells, whose sympathy for Gorky and his cause never wavered throughout the scandal, wrote that “infected persons could not have been treated more abominably in a town smitten with a panic of plague.” 6 The damage had been done. Gorky tried to continue his tour throughout the United States but, faced with increasingly frequently canceled events, Gorky left the country in October of 1906, having spent most of his time writing the book Mother rather than raising funds. More stinging than the scandal itself, perhaps, was the fact that the same American literati who sponsored his trip abandoned him quickly after the news broke. H. G. Wells wrote in his defense, but Howells and Twain pulled their support for his mission. Although Gorky never forgave Twain for this, Gorky did nothing to attenuate the situation and therefore played into the hands of the Russian embassy perfectly. Ernest Poole, who had a primary role in organizing Gorky’s visit and salvaging what was left of it after the scandal broke, claimed that the planning committee had heard about the Russian embassy’s diplomatic efforts to derail the visit and anticipated the threat that Andreeva’s presence posed. A delegation set off to the ship to warn Gorky of the potential problem and suggest the remedy of having Gorky stay in the hotel and Andreeva stay at the home of John Mar- tin, a sympathizer who lived on Staten Island. The committee apologized that such issues were interfering with Gorky’s visit but emphasized that “the cause

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of Russian freedom was more important than any one man’s private affairs.” In the face of this suggestion, “Gorki remained adamant,” and both he and Andreeva proceeded to the hotel. 7 Upon Gorky’s landing, present members of the press agreed that they would not mention the nature of his relationship to Andreeva out of respect for his international status as a writer. However, rivalries among the various press dynasties of the day created a situation in which such juicy news could not be suppressed for long, especially when it became clear that Gorky had contracted to write only for William Randolph Hearst’s papers while in America. 8 Finally, Gorky purportedly sent a telegram to William Haywood and Charles 114 Erich Lippman Moyer, International Workers of the World leaders jailed on charges of mur- dering the governor of Idaho, calling them “brother socialists” and proclaiming that the “day of justice and deliverance for the oppressed of all the world is at hand!” 9 The combination of his marital scandal and the audacity of interfering with American labor politics while simultaneously asking for money effectively sunk his fundraising efforts. Some supporters rallied to Gorky’s defense. The Columbia University sociologist F. H. Giddings wrote a scathing and rather condescending article for The Independent, titled “The Social Lynching of Gorky and Andreeva,” in which he compared the media frenzy around Gorky to that of a lynch mob: “Have we indeed come to this—that Americans, long accustomed to the gib- beting and roasting of negroes without due process of law, are now prepared to settle once for all every doubtful case of morality by the conclusive logic of the mob mind?” 10 It was not coincidental that one of Gorky’s biting stories about America was simply titled (in English), “Mob.” 11 A few months after Gorky’s departure, Louise Collier Willcox added sarcastically, “Impatient of all insin- cerities and hypocrisies, without guile or concealment, with something of the aggressiveness of youth in the face of pretension or cowardice or conformity, he is not a man to win popularity here.” 12 Mark Twain, who had invested a great deal of time, energy, and political capital into Gorky’s visit, was more ambivalent. According to Poole, Gorky’s remaining supporters pinned their hopes on Twain’s willingness to retain the chairmanship of the committee and to lean on his own reputation to save Gorky’s tour. Twain considered the offer at first, on the condition that Poole and the other supporters hide Gorky from the public in order to keep him from making more mistakes. 13 Even H. G. Wells, who was looking for Gorky to express his support, was turned away by Poole in order to honor Twain’s request. 14 However, Twain decided that all hope was lost and resigned the chairmanship anyway. An unpublished allegory penned by Twain shortly after the incident suggests that he saw Gorky’s actions as a reasonable cultural misunderstanding, but rather than attacking American puritanism as did Gid- dings and Willcox, Twain suggested that custom is a powerful and irrational force in any society and must not be violated. Rather, the responsibility lies with the foreigner to “find out what the country’s customs are, and refrain from offending against them.” 15 In a letter to Charlotte Teller, Twain was blunter: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 He came here in a distinctly diplomatic capacity—a function which demands (and necessitates) delicacy, tact, deference to people’s prejudices. . . . As to [his] diplomacy . . . it is new, it is original; it has not its like in history. He hits the public in the face with his hat and then holds it out for contributions. It is not ludicrous, it is pitiful. As to his patriotism, his lofty talk of lifting up and healing his bleeding nation—it can’t stand the strain of a trifling temporary inconvenience. He has made a grave blunder and persistently refuses to rectify it. 16 A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 115 Gorky in Transition Wherever the blame lay, Gorky’s time in the United States played a profound role in his development as a writer. Paula Cioni has recently pointed out that Gorky was already in transition from his earlier emphasis on individual rebellion, characterized by the figure of the bosiak , toward what would become his socialist and collectivist notion of Godbuilding. Cioni argues that the hagio- graphic Mother, largely written during his time in the United States, was far from the “bosiak biographies” of his earlier stories. 17 I have argued elsewhere that Mother should be seen in the context of Gorky’s Godbuilding works, even if the idea did not reach its full formulation until Confession in 1908. 18 As a concept, Godbuilding is perhaps best characterized as the development of a civil religion capable of providing religious motivation for a socialist revolutionary ideology. Gorky’s Godbuilding was an inverted Christianity, insistent that God was entirely within humanity, not distinct from it. Accord- ing to Gorky, Godbuilding was the truth of Christianity before its corruption by imperial favor. Christ was the culmination of all the positive energies of collective humanity—the “first true people’s God, risen from the spirit of the people like the phoenix from the flames.” 19 Mother , with its Gospel-like structure and heavy religious imagery, is Gorky’s first major work to move in the Godbuilding direction. This combination of factors—that Mother was both written largely in the United States and represents Gorky’s first major move in the Godbuilding direction—is no coincidence. Rather, Gorky’s interpretation of his experience in America is an important element in the formation of his Godbuilding thesis because it confirmed in his mind both the power of religion to sway people and the ability of the powerful to manipulate those religious sentiments among the people. A correlative effect of these realizations was that they tied him into traditional Dostoevskian themes. The Dostoevskian motif expresses itself quite clearly in the various stories and fictionalized interviews Gorky wrote in the United States about the United States while working on Mother . Perhaps due to the success of literary predecessors like Turgenev, Dosto- evsky, and Tolstoy, Gorky’s unique voice caused his fame as a writer to increase exponentially during the first half of his lifetime. Although Gorky wrote only in Russian, his stories had been translated into most European languages by the time of Russia’s first revolution in 1905. When Gorky was detained by Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the tsarist government for his revolutionary activities that year, writers from all over Europe and America signed a petition protesting his arrest. 20 With Dostoevsky dead and Tolstoy focused on the movement that bore his name, Gorky had the limelight thrust upon him as the spokesman for the downtrod- den. Given the prophetic role assumed by his predecessors, Gorky faced the decision of whether or not to don the “mantle of the prophet.” 21 Thus, Gorky chose to use his literary fame to champion a political solution to the social problems facing Russia. Part of that process meant distancing himself from the prophets who had preceded him, especially since Gorky’s revolutionary 116 Erich Lippman socialism contrasted heavily with the Slavophilism of Dostoevsky and the pacifism of Tolstoyanism. Although Gorky’s relationship to Tolstoy and Tolstoyanism has received much attention, perhaps due to the fact that Gorky spent time with Tolstoy and wrote a famous literary portrait of him, little attention has been paid to Gorky’s relationship to Dostoevsky’s thought. However, both Western and Soviet scholars who acknowledge Dostoevsky’s impact on Gorky tend to emphasize its importance. Vladimir Ermilov, one of the few Soviet scholars to approach this particular connection in his two long articles on “Gorky and Dostoevsky” in 1940, argues that “problems connected with Tolstoy . . . occupy a far smaller place in Gorky’s works than problems connected with Dostoevsky.” 22 Gorky excoriated Dostoevsky frequently in his writings, referring to him as “Russia’s evil genius” or “that perverse and evil man.” 23 In his 1908 lectures on the history of Russian literature at the Bolshevik Party School on Capri, Gorky emphasized the “unhealthy ideas” of Dostoevsky’s underground man as “the main substance of Dostoevsky’s works.” 24 This reference to the “unhealthiness”—Gorky’s favorite complaint about Dostoevsky— was foreshadowed in the only story Gorky published in America while he was there in 1906, “The City of Mammon.” Although the predecessor to the much more vitriolic “City of the Yellow Devil,” “The City of Mammon” ends on a hopeful, albeit somewhat condescending, note: “America is strong, America is healthy! And although even a sick Dostoevsky is more valuable to the world than rich, healthy shopkeepers, yet we will trust that the children of the shopkeepers will become true democrats; that is to say, aristocrats of the spirit.” 25 While it might be appropriate to ask why Gorky would be, in Ermilov’s words, “waging an incessant war” against someone who had been dead for more than twenty years by this point, it is important to realize that the literary and philosophical intelligentsia of early twentieth-century Russia were heavily indebted to Dostoevsky’s ideas. 26 The thinkers congregated around the religious-philosophical societies in Petersburg and Moscow were largely inspired by Russia’s first major philosopher—Vladimir Solov’ev—after whom the St. Petersburg society was named. If Solov’ev provided the philosophical basis for the societies, Dostoevsky provided the literary imagination that had inspired them. D. H. Lawrence wrote that Vasily Rozanov, one of the original founders of the religious-philosophical movements in Petersburg, was a “pup 27

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 out of the Dostoevsky kennel.” At the beginning of the twentieth century, it was a large kennel indeed. In order for Gorky to establish his role as literary prophet, he would need to separate himself from that kennel. To that end, Gorky frequently attacked Dostoevsky in the press, especially during his Godbuilding period, as he saw Godbuilding as his prophetic answer to the incessant Dostoevskian “Godseeking” of the religious intelligentsia. 28 Lenin astutely recognized this connection in Gorky’s 1913 article “Again on ‘Karam- azovism.’” In it, Gorky addressed the religious intelligentsia, proclaiming that “‘Godseeking’ should be set aside for a while—it is a useless exercise: where there is nothing, nothing should be sought. You cannot reap if you do not sow. A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 117 You have no God, you have not yet invented him. Gods are not sought— they are made; life is not thought up, but created.” 29 Lenin, believing that he had defeated Godbuilding as a deviation within Bolshevism, responded furiously, “It turns out that you are against Godseeking only to replace it with Godbuilding!! . . . Godseeking differs from Godbuilding or God-making or God-creating, etc., no more than a yellow devil differs from a blue devil.” 30 Clearly, Gorky’s attempts to distance himself from Dostoevsky were not always successful. Besides the obvious notion that his constant polemics with and attention to Dostoevsky ultimately led Gorky to define himself in Dosto- evskian terms, critics frequently imagined Gorky in Dostoevskian terms. Vas- ily Rozanov, in his analysis of Gorky’s Godbuilding novel Confession , wrote that Gorky was just another Shatov—the character from Dostoevsky’s Demons who puts his faith in the masses because, despite his desire to believe in God, he could not. 31 Ironically, Rozanov also identified himself with Shatov when asked. 32 Richard A. Peace, one of the few Western scholars to look for Dosto- evskian impulses in Gorky’s writing, states, “There is between them a literary and spiritual kinship which Gor’kij could not willingly acknowledge . . . like a true Karamazov he was in rebellion against a figure whom he refused to see as a worthy father.” 33 Notable similarities do stand out between Gorky and Dos- toevsky at many points in Gorky’s literary career that suggest conscious imitation, and they are especially frequent in Gorky’s writings on America, lending further support to the claim that these works prefigure Godbuilding. In many ways, Gorky seems to have himself become embroiled in a Dostoevskian tragedy, but it would be imprudent to see this as unconscious imitation. Rather, just as I have previously argued that Godbuilding was an intentional inversion of Orthodox spirituality, Gorky’s use of Dostoevsky follows a similar tactic. Robert Louis Jackson has argued that Gorky’s “rebellion against his teacher” made possible Gorky’s own independent development as a writer. 34 In the case of his writings about America, Gorky’s rebellion takes the form of imitating his “nemesis,” while insisting that he can change the narrative. 35

Dostoevsky’s Overcoat—Gorky’s Writings about America Although it is beyond the scope of the current study to go into detail about the Dostoevskian nature of all of Gorky’s writings on America, I will here offer

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 select examples of Gorky’s overt use of Dostoevskian motifs in these texts in order to launch a preliminary foray into this hitherto unaddressed issue. Clear Dostoevskian elements in Gorky’s “The City of the Yellow Devil,” One of the Kings of the Republic , A Priest of Morality, and—most significantly— The Lords of Life , all suggest a strongly Dostoevskian approach to Gorky’s confrontation with America. However, in each of these cases, Gorky’s conscious imitation of Dostoevsky’s literary forms allows him to invert Dostoevskian values. Gorky’s most famous story regarding the United States, “The City of the Yellow Devil,” is written in a fashion that mirrors the chapter “Baal” in Dos- toevsky’s Winter Notes on Summer Impressions . Dostoevsky’s biographer Joseph 118 Erich Lippman Frank argues that Winter Notes should be seen as a “first draft of the more famous work Notes from Underground ,” 36 a work that provided the focal point of Gorky’s critique of Dostoevsky in his 1908 lectures on the history of Rus- sian literature. 37 In both Winter Notes and “The City of the Yellow Devil,” the line between travel writing and fiction is blurred by the construction of the texts as eyewitness testimonies by first-person narrators who come to resemble characters within the fictional texts of both authors. Although Gorky’s narrator lacks Dostoevsky’s “ironic self-mockery” (a trait that Gorky also lacked), 38 the reader ultimately recognizes the fictional nature of Gorky’s text when confronted with the metaphorical Yellow Devil himself as a massive, spinning lump of gold at the heart of the city. Although Dostoevsky’s account of Lon- don lacks anything as clearly unreal as a spinning lump of gold, he does imbue something real—the Crystal Palace—with demonic power. 39 After stating that the exposition housed in the palace was particularly striking, Dostoevsky alludes to Revelations 17, 40 recounting that the whole composite created “a kind of biblical scene, something about Babylon, a kind of prophecy from the Apocalypse taking place before your very eyes.” 41 Thus, both Dostoevsky and Gorky employ negative images from the Bible to demonize the core idea of the societies they observe. That core idea for Dostoevsky, according to Joseph Frank, is “soulless, heartless materialism,” and his goal was both to expose it and to convey the counterpoint that “such a civilization is inimical and anti-pathetic to the Rus- sian spirit.” 42 Gorky’s purpose for “The City of the Yellow Devil” was similar, except he applied it to the United States and focused his critique on capital. In both cases, the technique for describing a city thus possessed was to depict a bustling city that superficially seemed to exude life and activity but con- cealed an underlying fatalism that robs its human contributors of their agency and their labor. The dehumanizing effects of modern Western civilization, tied up with individualism and materialism, crushed any single person’s ability to resist. Dostoevsky writes that “you feel that it would take a great deal of eternal spiritual resistance and denial not to give in, not to submit to the impression, not to resign yourself to fact and idolize Baal, in other words, not to accept what is as your ideal.” 43 Gorky describes New York City similarly, focusing on the irresistible force of civilization: “It seemed that everything— iron, stone, water, and wood—protested fully against a life without sunlight,

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 without songs and happiness, captive to hard work. Everything groans, howls, grinds, submits to some secret force hostile to humanity.” 44 There is so much commonality between the descriptions of Gorky and Dostoevsky that Abbott Gleason claims there is nothing about Gorky’s depiction with which early Slavophiles would have disagreed. 45 The rest of Gorky’s description mimics the fatalism of Dostoevsky’s “Baal,” eventually revealing the “secret force” to be a massive lump of gold in the middle of the city that spins in one direction, spraying out flecks of gold dust during the day, but draws them all back into itself at night. However, when it draws them back in, the lump emerges even bigger than it was the night before because “it sucks the blood and brains of A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 119 people so that by evening this same blood and brain are turned into cold yellow metal.” 46 This gold ultimately forms the “flesh and blood” of the Yellow Devil—the city’s possessing demon. 47 Thus, Gorky reduces Dostoevsky’s Baal, with all of its assumptions about modernity, to the Yellow Devil—capital. One might at this point ask how it was that the Yellow Devil gained such a stranglehold on the American people. Gorky’s answer to this question comes in a set of literary works called “interviews,” perhaps a forerunner to his literary portraits genre. These small works depict fictional encounters with various constructed figures that represent American reality to Gorky. The first is an aged railroad magnate referred to as one of the “kings of the republic.” At one point, Gorky asks the magnate what he thinks of religion, to which the businessman replies that he is in favor of it because it is “necessary for the people.” 48 He goes on to say that he even preaches at a small church. When Gorky asks him what he says, the magnate piously recounts one of his sermons imploring the poor to store up their treasures in heaven and eschew earthly comforts, etc. Here the germ of Gorky’s Godbuilding creeps in as his narrator follows the sermon by questioning if the magnate is a Christian. This “king” responds that he certainly is, but at the same time he is “an American and, as such, a strict moralist.” 49 Gorky, still stinging from the effects of his recent scandal, has his magnate continue, “For an American, it is impossible to recognize Christ.” 50 When asked why, the magnate replies as if the answer should be obvious: “He was born illegitimate! An illegitimate man in America cannot even be a bureaucrat, let alone a god.” 51 Confused, Gorky’s narrator soon discovers whose authority the magnate does recognize:

For the first time, I observed the power of the influence of the Yellow Devil—Gold—in such vivid form. The dry, perforated, gout-ridden and rheumatic bones of the old man, his feeble, emaciated body in its sack of old skin, all of this small pile of old trash, was now animated by the cold and hard will of the Father of lies and spiritual depravity. The eyes of the old man sparkled like two new coins and all of him became stronger and drier. Now he looked even more like a servant, but now I knew who is master was. The eyes of the old man gleamed like two new coins, and he seemed to have become stronger and drier. His resemblance to a servant was even 52

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 more striking than before, but now I knew who his master was.

This passage is worth quoting at length for comparative purposes, reminiscent as it is of another “old man” in Dostoevsky’s novel The Brothers Karam- azov . Dostoevsky describes his devilish “old man,” the Grand Inquisitor, as follows: “He is a nearly ninety-year-old man, tall and erect, with a withered face and sunken eyes, but from them shines, like a fiery spark, a glimmer . . . his eyes gleam with a sinister fire.” 53 From Gorky’s perspective, an intentional imitation of Dostoevsky makes sense here. The key points of comparison in these two descriptions are the 120 Erich Lippman physical bodies of the men contrasted with the vitality of their eyes. The physique of the Grand Inquisitor is that of a man who has already begun to resemble a corpse. However, this seemingly dead body remains animated by a “sinister fire” that keeps him going beyond the time allotted to him, creating an impression of living death. The reader later learns that the “sinister fire” depicts a diabolical possession when the Grand Inquisitor confesses to the Christ figure in the poem that he serves the “wise and dread spirit, the spirit of self-destruction and non-existence.” 54 Gorky gives us the same image with a slight twist. Before his description, Gorky sets the stage by writing of the man that “he now instilled in me with the involuntary reverence with which one relates to a decaying corpse.” 55 Gorky claims outright that the magnate is “animated by the cold and hard will of the Father of lies and spiritual depravity.” 56 Gorky also uses the eyes to convey possession, but instead of burning with the sinister fire of self-will, the magnate’s eyes “gleamed like two new coins,” implying capitalism as the possessor. 57 However, this incarnation of the Grand Inquisitor lacks the clev- erness and eloquence of Ivan Karamazov’s creation. Rather, he is clearly the opposite. Despite his advanced age, he was an “old man who resembled a new- born babe, with an innate greed, naïve frankness and contempt for everything except money.” 58 Throughout this interview, Gorky comes back to what would become a familiar theme in his Godbuilding days—the hypocritical and self-serving nature of religious authorities. Although he does not yet articulate his new version of Christianity, the claim that “it is impossible for an American to recognize Christ” suggests that, whoever Christ was, he was distinct from the American version of Christianity—a distinction that lays the groundwork for Gorky’s subsequent claim that Christ is the true people’s God. 59 Another interview, entitled “A Priest of Morality,” develops Gorky’s attack on the moral bankruptcy of American moralism. This interview, even more applicable to the circumstances of his scandal, begins when his narrator is visited by a “professional sinner” whose job is to offend “public morality.” 60 This professional sinner explains that his job is to create scandals that catch the public eye as a means of distracting the populace from the actions of those who have the luxury to live as they please. He explains the connection between moralism and the Yellow Devil by claiming, “Morality benefits you if you’ve

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 got everything you need and want to keep it for yourself alone; it doesn’t benefit you if you have nothing more than the hair on your head.” 61 This priest of morality works for a conspiratorial organization called “the Bureau,” which is “one of America’s most original institutions.” 62 The Bureau organizes these distractions in an attempt to “hypnotize public opinion” and serve the purpose of the moralists. 63 The professional sinner summarizes the reality of life in America as follows:

Our country . . . lives with only one goal—to make money. Here everybody wants to be rich, and a human being is just material from which a A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 121 few grains of gold can always be squeezed. And all of life is a process of extracting gold from human flesh and blood. The people in this country— as everywhere, I’ve heard—are the ore from which the yellow metal is mined; progress is the concentration of the physical energy of the masses, i.e., the crystallization of human flesh, bone, and nerve into gold. 64

Thus, as well as hearkening back to the phantasmagoric imagery of “The City of the Yellow Devil,” Gorky’s words relate again to Dostoevsky’s Winter Notes but reduce Dostoevsky’s critique of modernity and civilization by laying the blame for American moral depravity on the pursuit of capital. Abbott Gleason commented that Gorky’s writings on America “have a Symbolist aspiration about them and show little of Gorky’s usual ‘realism.’” 65 Nowhere is this tendency more apparent than in Gorky’s final interview— a Menippean satire entitled, “The Lords of Life.” Menippean satire was an unusual genre for Gorky, but Dostoevsky employed it often. This genre defies easy definition, but Mikhail Bakhtin points out that one of its most important features is “the fact that its bold and unrestrained use of the fantastic is internally motivated, justified by and devoted to a purely ideational and philosophical end: the creation of extraordinary situations for the provoking and testing of a philosophical idea, a discourse, a truth, embodied in the image of a wise man, the seeker of this truth.” 66 He thus deems it a “genre of ‘ultimate questions.’” 67 Traces of this genre exist in virtually all of Dostoevsky’s works, but, according to Bakhtin, only two of his stories fit this genre “almost in the strict ancient sense of the term”—“Bobok” and “The Dream of a Ridiculous Man.” 68 While Gorky takes the dream setting from the latter text, the story he imitates most directly is “Bobok.” In “Bobok,” the narrator happens upon a conversation among the dead in which they, being dead, liberate themselves from the constraints of traditional morality and revel in the libertinism that their seemingly undead state allows. The narrator ultimately sneezes, alert- ing the dead to his presence, and they immediately stop talking. 69 The narrator leaves the cemetery disgusted by the depravity of the dead. Present also throughout the story is the overbearing odor in the cemetery, referring to the moral decay of the dead. 70 Thus, Dostoevsky employs a conversation among the dead to comment on the moral state of the living, implying the depravity of his contemporaries who revel in the libertinism of their own spiritual death

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 and alienation from God. Bakhtin claims that from the standpoint of genre, “Bobok” is one of Dosto- evsky’s key works and that it is “almost a microcosm of his entire creative output.” 71 Accordingly, if Gorky were to pick a text to mimic in his own attempt at Menippean satire while simultaneously inverting Dostoevsky’s values, “Bobok” would be the perfect model. While Gorky takes the cemetery and dialogue-of-the-dead elements from “Bobok,” his story differs slightly in the fact that Gorky’s narrator is not alone in the cemetery, as is Dostoevsky’s, but is accompanied by the Devil. The Devil meanders through the cemetery, com- manding the dead to rise and impart their “wisdom” to the narrator who has 122 Erich Lippman become “stupid” because of his socialist proclivities. 72 Of course, the wisdom that the dead proclaim is all of the moralism, racism, scientism, and other fol- lies of Western and specifically American culture, playing on the Biblical passage so dear to Dostoevsky: “For the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God.” 73 However, it is not God but the Devil who acts as the bearer of truth and the generic “wise man” in this text. 74 He is not the malicious Yellow Devil of the previous texts but a sympathetic devil, reminiscent of Dostoevsky’s own creation in Ivan Karamazov’s interview with the devil in The Brothers Karam- azov , albeit without the heavy dose of irony. 75 Gorky’s devil laments the fact that “it’s boring, always being right [about humans],” but it seems inescapable that “men live only to feed [his] contempt.” 76 However, this devil maintains some hope for a future reckoning in which humanity would realize its true potential. He relates his eschatological vision:

[Judgment Day] will come when people become aware of all the crimes committed against them by the teachers and legislators of life—those who tore up humanity into worthless pieces of meaningless flesh and bone. All that now goes under the name of humanity is but parts. The whole human has not yet been created. It will rise from the ashes of experience, lived through by the world, and absorbing the world’s experience like the sea absorbs the rays of the sun, it will light up over the earth like another sun. 77

In these words, ironically spoken by the Devil, we see the same phoenix imagery that Gorky would use two years later in his chief Godbuilding work Confession to describe Christ emerging from the people, as well as the language of integration and disintegration that he borrows from Solov’ev in his chief Godbuilding article, “The Disintegration of Personality.” 78 Here, Gorky’s Devil already begins to articulate the collectivist ideal that divinity is internal to humanity but only realizable through total unity of action. Gorky’s devil continues in the Godbuilding vein, “I will see it because I am making humanity. I will make it!” 79 At this point, perhaps the largest difference between Gorky and Dostoevsky lies in the location of God in relation to man and the means by which total unity can be achieved. 80 Even after the Devil has commanded the dead to return to their graves, Gorky’s narrator notes that “there remained only a stuffy smell, clutching at the throat like a heavy, wet 81

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 hand.” As in “Bobok,” this, too, is the stench of moral decay, but whereas the decay in “Bobok” calls man back from libertinism to traditional Christian ideals and a creator God who knows better, the smell in Gorky’s story comes specifically from those decadent ideals. Liberation from the “wisdom” of the past is the only means for humanity to achieve its potential—a potential that would necessitate creating God. Thus, Gorky’s own rebellion against Dosto- evsky, which transitioned him to the idea of Godbuilding, seems to have been at least accelerated, if not sparked, by American moralism. He concludes his story by telling his dream to an American who “more resembled a human being than the others,” but the American could only conclude that the Devil A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 123 was an agent of a company selling incinerators for cremation and admired him for his willingness to go so far in the name of profit as to appear in people’s dreams. 82 Demon possession, devils, the living dead—these characteristics are hardly common in the writings of the foremost realist writer of his day. However, they were common in Dostoevsky’s novels and stories. Gorky’s writings on America come at a pivotal point in Gorky’s transition from being an up-and-coming voice of the vagabond to a spokesman for a particular perspective on socialist revolution, from challenging the social structure to proposing a new one. As such, they serve as a final act of social criticism before Gorky’s turn toward social construction. However, even within this critical process of deconstruc- tion, Gorky’s employs the same techniques of inversion that he would later use in his Godbuilding texts, and he does so in relation to the author he pegs as his nemesis—Dostoevsky. Like Dostoevsky, his attempts to create a positive social narrative were less convincing than his criticism of contemporary society. However, Gorky’s particular method of claiming the prophetic role from Dostoevsky involved coopting Dostoevsky’s style while imbuing it with new meaning, as if to suggest that Dostoevskian characters and Dostoevskian plots did not have to resolve in Dostoevskian ways. While operating in Dosto- evskian terms, he changed the conclusions, directing his criticism at the very values and institutions that Dostoevsky championed, while simultaneously identifying them with the Western modernity, in this case embodied by the United States, that Dostoevsky scorned. 83

Notes 1. For examples of the various debates surrounding Gorky’s motives for using such a harsh tone in his critique of the United States, see Paola Cioni, “M. Gor’kii v Amerike,” Toronto Slavic Quarterly 20 (Spring 2007), http://sites.utoronto.ca/ tsq/20/cioni20.shtml; L. Jay Oliva, “Maxim Gorky Discovers America,” The New York Historical Society Quarterly 51 (1967): 45–60; Filia Hotzman, “A Mission that Failed: Gor’kij in America,” The Slavic and East European Journal 6, 3 (Autumn 1962): 227–235; Charles Rougle, Three Russians Consider America: America in the Works of Maksim Gor’kij, Aleksandr Blok, and Vladimir Majakovskij (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 1976); and Milla Fedorova, Yankees in Petro- grad Bolsheviks in New York: America and Americans in Russian Literary Perceptions (DeKalb, IL: NIU Press, 2013). 2. I. N. Uspenskii, Gor’kii ob Amerike (Moskva: Izd. “Pravda,” 1949), 26. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 3. Abbot Gleason, “Republic of Humbug: The Russian Nativist Critique of the United States, 1830–1930,” American Quarterly 44, 1 (March, 1992): 15. 4. “Gorky and Twain Plead for Revolution,” New York Times , April 12, 1906. 5. Although there are a variety of sources that recount these events, perhaps Ernest Poole, who helped organize the trip and helped shelter Gorky when things went awry, offers perhaps the closest firsthand account: Ernest Poole, “Maxim Gorki in New York,” Slavonic and East European Review 22 (1944): 77–83. 6. H. G. Wells, The Future in America: A Search after Realities (London: Chapman & Hall, 1906), 251–52. 7. Poole, “Maxim Gorki in New York,” 79–80. 8. Ibid., 81. See also Holtzman, “A Mission that Failed,” 230. 124 Erich Lippman 9. Poole, “Gorky in New York,” 81. 10. F. H. Giddings, “The Social Lynching of Gorky and Andreiva,” The Independent 60 (1906): 977. 11. M. Gor’kii, “Mob,” in Gorod zheltogo d’iavola (Moskva: Khudozhestvennaia Litera- ture, 1972), 38–48. 12. Louise Collier Willcox, “Maxime Gorky,” The North American Review 183, 604 (Dec. 7, 1906): 1163. 13. Poole, “Gorky in New York,” 82. 14. See Ibid. and Wells, The Future in America , 252. 15. Mark Twain, “The Gorky Incident: An Unpublished Fragment,” Slavonic and East European Review 22 (1944): 81. 16. Quoted in Alexander Kaun, Maxim Gorky and His Russia (New York: Jonathan Cape & Harrison Smith, 1931), 592. 17. Paola Cioni, “M. Gor’kii v Amerike.” 18. See Erich Lippman, “Co-opting Orthodoxy: Orthodox Symbolism in Gorky’s Godbuilding Works, 1905–1909,” Modern Greek Studies Yearbook 24/25 (2008–09): 181–200. 19. Maksim Gor’kii, Ispoved’ (Berlin: J. Ladyschnikow Verlag, 1909), 148. 20. Tovah Yedlin, Maxim Gorky: A Political Biography (Westport, CT: Praeger, 1999), 51. 21. Joseph Frank uses this term in the subtitle of the last volume of his biography of Dostoevsky: Joseph Frank, Dostoevsky: The Mantle of the Prophet, 1871–1881 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003). 22. Vladimir Yermilov, “Gorky and Dostoevsky,” International Literature 3 (1940): 42. For a Western perspective, see Richard A. Peace, “Some Dostoyevskian Themes in the Work of Maksim Gor’kij,” Russian Literature 24, 4 (1988): 525–538. 23. Maksim Gor’kii to V. V. Rozanov, August 3 or 4 (16 or 17), 1911, Polnoe sobranie sochinenii. Pis’ma v dvadtsati chetyrekh tomakh 9: 81–82. 24. Maksim Gor’kii, Istoriia russkoi literatury (Moskva: Arhiv A.M. gor’kogo. 1939), 248. 25. Maxim Gorky, “The City of Mammon: My Impressions of America,” Appleton’s Magazine 8 (1906): 182. 26. Yermilov, 45. 27. D. H. Lawrence, “On Dostoevsky and Rozanov,” in Russian Literature and Modern English Fiction: A Collection of Essays , ed. Donald Davie (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965), 100. 28. See Lippman, “Coopting Orthodoxy,” 11. 29. Quoted in V. I. Lenin to A.M. Gor’kii, November 1914, in V. I. Lenin i A.M. Gor’kii: pis’ma, vospominaniia, dokumenty (Moskva: Izd. Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1961), 109. 30. Ibid. 31. For reference, see V. V. Rozanov, “O ‘narodo’-bozhii kak novoi idee Maksima Gor’kogo,” Russkoe Slovo No. 289 (December 13, 1908). Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 32. N. N. Roussov, “A Meeting with Rozanov,” in V. V. Rozanov, Solitaria , translated by S. S. Koteliansky (London: Wishart & Co. 1927), 170. 33. Peace, “Some Dostoyevskian Themes in the Work of Maksim Gor’kij,” 530. 34. Robert L. Jackson, “Gor’kij’s Polemic against the Staging of The Devils in 1913 and the Aftermath in 1917,” Russian Literature 24, 4 (1988): 503–516. 35. Dale E. Peterson, “Richard Wright’s Long Journey from Gorky to Dostoevsky,” African American Review 28, 3 (Autumn, 1994): 381. 36. Joseph Frank, “Dostoevsky: The Encounter with Europe,” Russian Review 22:3 (1963): 237. 37. Gor’kii, Istoriia russkoi literatury , 248. A Sick Dostoevsky and Rich, Healthy Shopkeepers 125 38. Frank, “Dostoevsky: The Encounter with Europe,” 239. 39. The Crystal Palace was built in 1851 to house the London World’s Exposition. It was later destroyed by fire in 1936. 40. Frank sees this as a direct reference to the “monstrous image of the Beast prophesied in the Apocalypse.” Frank, “Dostoevsky: The Encounter with Europe,” 242. 41. Fedor Dostoevskii, Zimnie zametki o letnikh vpechatleniiakh, in Polnoe Sobranie Sochinenii F. M. Dostoevskago , vol. 3 (Sankt Peterburg, 1906), 278. 42. Joseph Frank, “Dostoevsky: The Encounter with Europe,” 240. 43. Dostoevsky, Zimnie zametki , 278. 44. M. Gor’kii, “Gorod zheltogo d’iavola,” in Gorod zheltogo d’iavola (Moskva: Khu- dozhestvennaia literature, 1972), 10. 45. Gleason, “Republic of Humbug,” 17. 46. Ibid., 22. 47. Ibid. 48. Maksim Gor’kii, Odin iz korolei respubliki: interv’iu (Stuttgart: Verlag von J.H.W. Dietz Nachfolger, 1906), 13. 49. Ibid., 17. 50. Ibid. 51. Ibid. 52. Ibid., 19. 53. F. M. Dostoevskii, Brat’ia Karamazovy (Paris: Bookking International, 1995), 230. 54. Ibid., 232. 55. Gor’kii, Odin iz korolei respubliki , 18. 56. Ibid., 19. 57. Ibid. 58. Valentin Kiparsky, English and American Characters in Russian Fiction (Berlin: In Kommission bei O. Harrassowitz, Wiesbaden, 1964), 121. 59. For Gorky’s later claim that Christ is the first true God of the people, see Maksim Gor’kii, Ispoved’ , 148. 60. Gor’kii, Zhretz morali: interv’iu (Stuttgart: Verlag von J. H. W. Dietz Nachfolger, 1906), 6. 61. Ibid., 13. 62. Ibid., 16. 63. Ibid. 64. Ibid. 65. Gleason, “Republic of Humbug,” 16. 66. Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics , 114. 67. Ibid. 68. Ibid., 137. 69. Fedor Dostoevskii, “Bobok,” in Polnoe Sobranie Sochinenii F. M. Dostoevskago , vol. 10 (Sankt Peterburg, 1906), 211. 70. For the first reference to odor, see Dostoevsky, “Bobok,” 199. 71. Ibid., 144. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 72. Maksim Gor’kii, Khoziaeva zhizni: interv’iu (Stuttgart: Verlag von J. H. W. Dietz Nachfolger, 1906), 7. 73. 1 Cor. 3:19. 74. Bakhtin, Problems , 114. 75. See Dostoevskii, Bratia Karamazovy , 568–583. 76. Gor’kii, Khoziaeva zhizni , 9. 77. Ibid., 16. 78. For the phoenix imagery, see Gor’kii, Ispoved’, 148. Also see Maksim Gor’kii, “Razrushenie lichnosti,” in Ocherki filosofii kollektivizma (Sankt Peterburg: Znanie, 1909), 351–403. 126 Erich Lippman 79. Gor’kii, Khoziaeva zhizni , 116. 80. According to Dostoevsky’s traditional Christian vision, God is distinct humanity, even though he suffuses the natural order created by him. Gorky’s Godbuilding understood God entirely as a creation of the people, therefore without existence distinct from their collective will. 81. Ibid., 24. 82. Ibid., 26–27. 83. While Dostoevsky did not support capitalism, the main target of Gorky’s wrath in these writings, he did support organized religion, which Gorky tied closely to the capitalist power structure. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 10 Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” of a Goodwill Initiative Letters from Russian Soldiers Cared for at the City Hospital of the American Colony in Petrograd, 1914–1918

Lyubov Ginzburg

I shall think of you and hold you as an example of well-doing, a member of the American Colony who shows a great love for Russia. George Cavalier, Anton Fedorovich Dogodin to a member of the Colony, December 5, 1915

“Further I greet my loving sisters . . . and all the Committee and all the wounded . . . and in general all the hospital personnel with the humblest respects and with love, and a kowtow.” 1 Scribbled on a scrap of paper by an uneducated peasant, these words reveal the “genuine depth of feeling” toward a group of Americans residing in Petrograd who founded an infirmary for the care of wounded Russian soldiers during the Great War. Although the scale of operations was relatively small, and in spite of the fact that it was not the only lazaret founded by a foreign mission in the capital, it is difficult to under- estimate the pronounced and long-lasting American contribution to the continuous dialogue between the two countries in the course of war-wrought, devastating humanitarian strife. Through their close relations with Russians and direct involvement in the life of the city, Americans inserted themselves and their ideals upon it, standing at the foundation of public diplomacy that today is becoming a highly aspired mode of international communication. They represented a vanguard of good-willed citizens and patriots who found Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 themselves in the midst of a series of politically and socially charged dramatic events and directed their efforts toward a decisive manifestation of benevolent determination while promoting and securing American interests in Russia. The outbreak of World War I marked a perceptible rapprochement2 between the two countries, generating increasing interest in Russia within all strata of American society, including business interests, journalists, missionaries, philanthropists, and academics. The unprecedented influx of Americans to Russia was noted on the pages of the Christian Advocate , a publication of the American Methodist Episcopal Church in Petrograd, which evolved into a 128 Lyubov Ginzburg bilingual newsletter, reporting on social news and unfolding events concerning the Americans colony:

[S]cores and hundreds of friends and tourists from America have dropped in Methodist headquarters . . . these welcome visitors represent various professions and denominations. Among these there have been bishops, university and college presidents, secretaries of various boards, editors and journalists, men of the diplomatic and consular service, missionaries, and business people. Practically all have expressed one and the same opinion: Russia is a great and wonderful country and we shall only have kind words to speak of this land and nation. 3

The establishment of the Russian-American and American-Russian chambers of commerce, and extended credit for purchasing war matériel, 4 enhanced American commercial activity in Russia, increased the flow of U.S. investments, and activated extensive operations by American concerns and banks. 5 Increased publicity sustained unrelenting interest in Russian literature, language, and music, which had developed at the end of the nineteenth century. 6 It also triggered a tangible relief movement to mitigate the grief and adversity of the devastating war, amidst widespread chaos and deprivation. Americans responded to the needs of victims of the ongoing conflict, alleviating the suffer- ings of refugees, prisoners of war, and wounded Russian soldiers. Thus, during a testimonial dinner in Petrograd in 1916, commercial attaché Henry D. Baker reported not only upon American commercial achievements in Russia but also praised the personal involvement of his compatriots “through friendly dealings, courtesy, and generally considerate treatment of this country.” Baker pointed to the importance of providing support for Russia “during these days of trial,” 7 considering the effort as essential and feeling personally responsible for any humanitarian initiatives. When Nikolai Andreevich Borodin, a vice president of the Society for Promoting Mutual Friendly Relations between Russia and America, asked George Albert Simons, an American Methodist pastor in Petrograd, to comment on activities that brought America and Rus- sia closer together, especially in religious and charitable matters, the latter mentioned, first of all, the work of the YMCA, founded by American philanthropist James Stokes and known in Russia as Mayak. 8 Simons then named

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the Relief Funds for Russian Refugees, raised by former American Ambassador to Russia Curtis Guild; the Relief Fund of the Russian Orthodox Cathedral in New York; and the American Red Cross Society, in charge of field hospitals in Kiev, Tiflis, and Persia. 9 The pastor also pointed to the Salvation Army and his own American Methodist Episcopal Church, which participated in disbursing funds among destitute families throughout Russia. He described the work of the American Refuge for Refugee Women and Children from the War Zone, headed first by the wife of the American ambassador, Mrs. Mary Alice Doyle Marye, and later presided over by Helen Fessenden Meserve, the spouse of the director of the National City Bank of New York. Finally, Simons paid Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 129 homage to the American Hospital in Petrograd, which was allied with other city infirmaries. 10 While convinced that “every friend they could make for the United States was well worth the effort,” 11 Americans involved in widely spread relief operations not only contributed their services to the host nation but also promoted “good feeling among Russians.” A prominent official, Count Mikhail Perovsky Petrovo Solovo, while organizing relief for Russians in Norway after the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution, recalled American help in a letter addressed to Isabel Hapgood and acknowledged that it was American charity and efforts to help Russian communities that prompted gratitude to the American nation, diminishing misunderstanding and mistrust among the local population. 12 It is this sentiment that was emphasized by a member of the Petrograd Duma, a patron of the hospital, the Honorable San-Galli, in a speech delivered on the occasion of the first anniversary of the operation of the American enterprise, which he called “a token of American sympathy and friendship”:

I am persuaded that the contemporary work of love and mercy, in which both great nations, Americans and Russians, thus are meeting, and the hard experience they are going through together in these terrible years of bloodshed and indescribable misfortune and misery, are gradually welding the links, which shall form in future the chain of union . . . for a hand- in-hand work of truthful friendship and peaceful cooperation towards the ideal happiness of both Great Nations. And after the war is over, when our brave heroes return peacefully to their homesteads, every one of them who has felt the tender, helpful hand of the charitable workers in these hospital rooms, shall keep in his heart a holy, thankful remembrance of the time spent here, and will tell out of his full heart to his family and to all that are dear to him, that it was American women, that it was American men, who gave back to him his health and vigor, and these sayings will spread over the vast plains of great Russia and be told and retold and never be forgotten, passing from generation to generation, the remembrance of the noble, self-obvious work and generous help of American citizens. 13

The honorable mayor of Petrograd, Count Ivan Ivanovich Tolstoy, who

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 attended the opening of the institution, called the enterprise “an example of the Good Samaritan” and voiced a common sentiment, adding that while “the war was something much to be deplored,” it nevertheless provided an opportunity for “laudable expressions” of substantial charity and interest in the fate of Russia shown by Americans residing in Petrograd. 14 The hospital was run by a Committee established especially for the purpose, consisting of, among others, Consul North Winship, who served as its president, and a commercial attaché, Henry Baker, who became its secretary. Embassy Secretaries Fairman Rogers Furness and Lieutenant Arthur Mason Jones were active members of the committee. Furness’ “genial and helpful presence” was 130 Lyubov Ginzburg noted in the Christian Advocate, which reported that the latter: “took pleasure in visiting the Lazaret almost daily and playing games and talking with the men.” 15 Other members of the board included George Simons; industrialist Karl Lencke, head of the Russian-American Corporation; engineer and businessman Captain David L. Hough; and Ms. May T. Potter, a sister-in-law of Frederick M. Corse, director of the Russian branch of the New York Life Insurance Company, and a long-term sojourner in Petrograd. Corse initiated the enterprise, which opened in November 1914 under the presidency of American Ambassador George T. Marye. By endorsing the lazaret, the American envoy adhered to the strong traditions and distinguished character of American diplomatic missions in St. Petersburg/Petrograd, which included not only the execution of ambassadorial functions but also active involvement in the social, economic, and cultural life of the host country. George Simons called Ambassador Marye “an enthusiastic admirer of Russia,” who, similar to one of his predecessors, Curtis Guild, “was actively identified with various charitable interests of [the] American Colony.” Both the Ambassador and his wife did “much to give financial and moral support to these projects . . . and returned to America with a message of good will.” 16 At the opening ceremony, the Ambassador said that it was truly gratifying and inspiring to be a part of an enterprise that “displays the kindness and humanitarian sentiments of the American Colony in Russia.” He especially emphasized “a deep sympathy and a warm affection for the great Russian people” felt by Ameri- cans and praised “the foundation and maintenance of a hospital for the care of the sick and wounded of the armies of the great country which [was] engaged in a struggle vaster and mightier than the world [had] ever seen.” 17 The American Hospital operated almost entirely on donations from American residents of the capital, becoming known as the City Hospital of the American Colony. 18 Under management of its treasurer, Russian YMCA Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Figure 10.1 Christian Advocate 84 (December 1915): 16 (5). Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 131 veteran Franklin A. Gaylord, who was assisted by Harvey W. Anderson, financial transactions were routed through the National City Bank of New York, which opened an operational account for the needs of the hospital. 19 Financial statements were available to contributors and analyzed in the Chris- tian Advocate. The first report, covering the period from October 1, 1914, to April 30, 1915, is described in the journal as “a remarkable document,” which gave each contributing member of the American Colony a “reason to feel grateful that the undertaking has already more than justified the highest expectations of the various committees that are harmoniously engaged in this good work.” 20 Originally situated at 15 Spasskaia Street, the facility was relocated to a renovated and enlarged building at 26 Sergeevskaia Street 21 as the number of patients increased. In the first year, the hospital received 169 men, with stays from 5 to 171 days. Eighteen were dispatched directly to the active army, 55 obtained leaves of absence from 3 to 12 months, 12 were freed from further service, 20 went to convalescent commands, 4 to the reserve battalions, and 14 were transferred for further treatment to other hospitals. 22 Those who returned to active duty sent hospital personnel their greetings and thanks from the trenches:

I announce to you, Sister, that I, by the grace of God, up to this time am alive and well. I have taken part in many battles and have remained whole and unharmed. Sister, not a day goes by that I do not think of you. I’m always telling my comrades of your kind care and trouble, and without doubt I shall forget only when a bullet or a shell finishes me . . . We have been all the time in the front ranks, there where battles and now there is artillery and gun fire. I write this lying in the trenches. Corporal Simeon Lookichev, n.d.

Upon returning to the front, some soldiers were wounded again. They knew where to look for help and wrote to the lazaret without delay. One of the former patients of the American Hospital, who received a wound for the second time, wrote to the hospital in Petrograd and was referred to American asso- ciates, who assisted him with money and necessary treatment. He thanked

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Americans, reflecting upon his fate in Moscow:

I see that your heart is such as other people could not have, for you gave your attention to my request, and I see that there are no such people as the Americans in the world, because they, seeing a man in misfortune, take much trouble for him. The people who were informed that I was in the hospital have been to see me and have taken up my case. I received money from them, received their address and was told to go to them . . . I hope that I shall have great help. n.d. 132 Lyubov Ginzburg

Figure 10.2 Christian Advocate 74 (February 1915): 19 (7).

Hospital supporters and personnel were dedicated to humanitarian efforts. American surgeons and nurses provided necessary treatment and care, and members of the American colony organized field trips to the islands in the Neva Delta and outings on steamers. In a letter written from the lazaret to a sister of mercy on leave, translated and published in the Christian Advocate, a wounded soldier recalled:

There is no way to name our life here but as a second paradise! Oh, what pleasant enjoyment, better it could not be. This is the kind of wonderful thing. July 16th we went on steamers to the islands, and there drank tea and walked about, it was fine and fine; the 17th of July at five o’clock in the afternoon again was a very great pleasure. A lady sent for us three automobiles, and we were driven to the islands and Barinya came with us. Oh, how splendid! Dear sister, you also would have been greatly pleased

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 with our outing. Pantelei Pavlovich Alekseienko, n.d. 23

A workshop was established so that recovering patients could learn new skills, such as weaving or bookbinding. The American Methodist Episcopal Chapel in Petrograd provided funds for medical supplies and donated bookbinding equipment. A special room suitable for a workshop for soldiers was arranged, and the executive committee appointed American Naval Atta- ché Captain Newton A. McCully, Mr. Baker, and Mr. De Wetter “to furnish and arrange the workshop and supervise the work of soldiers along the lines Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 133

Figure 10.3 Christian Advocate 74 (February 1915): 23 (11).

practiced in some of the larger city hospitals.” 24 The workshop proved a success, as patients’ crafts were purchased by visitors, with orders left for the most popular articles. In May 1916, Americans organized a handicrafts bazaar selling articles made by the patients. The Empress Alexandra Fyodorovna attended one such exhibition, buying work, praising the weaving of the workshop participants, and ultimately awarding the institution a bronze medal for excep- tional and devoted services. 25 Other members of the tsarist family and Russians of high prominence, in particular her Imperial Majesty the Dowager Empress of Russia Maria Fyodorovna and his Imperial Highness Prince Oldenburg, the president of the Russian Red Cross, also expressed their “appreciation of the noble work which has been performed [in hospital], and their sense of gratitude to the American people for their generosity to Russia’s wounded.” 26 The proceeds from the sale were placed in the National City Bank account opened for this purpose. 27 One of the soldiers recollected his work and thanked the hospital for forwarding him his share of the proceeds of the sale: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 I inform you, my dear sister, that I received the money which you sent to me,- 4 roubles, the 28th of April, and for which I express my deepest gratitude to you and to the whole Committee of the American Colony. I was surprised and deeply touched by these 4 roubles, 28 for the things I had made were very few and I did not ask to have money sent me for them, for this reason I am surprised and deeply touched, not only I but all of my family, that among us Russians there are also foreigners who enter so into the needs of our dear defenders of the Fatherland. What can I write, how can I express my thanks to you and to the whole Colony. If I only had 134 Lyubov Ginzburg wings I would fly to you to kiss you all for your interest and kind hearted- ness, for your gentle and wise talk. 28 April, 1915 Corporal, Pavel Alekseevitch Sierov

Some of the money fetched for soldiers’ crafts, along with other donations, was allocated into a special fund used to help veterans reinstate their civil lives or assist their poverty-stricken families in various parts of Russia. On one occasion, 44 roubles, almost $540 in contemporary U.S. dollars, was sent to pay a mortgage payment, which made it possible for two women with small children and an elderly mother to stay in their home. The husband of one of the women was killed at the front. His brother, the husband of the second woman and a former patient of the American Hospital, was sent back to active duty. The following excerpt received at the lazaret bears witnesses to how essential were the monetary supplements received by soldiers’ relatives from Americans:

Charitable committee, all your kind hearts and well-wishing thoughts and all the gifts which come from you, and in addition your warm love to us, all these gathered together in me make a stout ship amidst the waters which have already swallowed up many and in which are struggling others, drowning in the waves of this difficult time, which has fallen to the lot of nearly the whole world. You go about on your ship and gather up us drowning ones and take us to yourselves and cheer us and make us again like new, ready for fresh deeds. For me there has never been such a happiness from my birth as at this time, this gift which has flowed from your good hearts. It is an unheard of thing, such a great sum. I cannot imagine how I can ever repay you for such a great thing. I have no means. Only in one way can I pay you, Committee of well-doing. Eternally I and my unfortunate family will pray to God for you and for Sister P. 29 Eternally we will remember that your strong ship came up in time to save me in my little boat which had already begun to sink under water. Now I see that the Providence watched over me and sent the sister who interceded for me, and you with your warm love to your neighbor fulfilled the preaching of Christ and saved me and my family by your gift.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 5 March, 1916 The name of the soldier is not revealed

Those who returned to their native villages invited Hospital personnel to visit them, sharing in their unpretentious but genuinely sincere letters a description of the Russian countryside and those simple, joyful things that lightened up their everyday dismal existence:

And now, sister, I beg you to come to visit me. Here with us it is very nice and bright, the weather is wonderful and the air is so fresh that here one can only enjoy oneself. The raspberries in the gardens are ripening and Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 135 the currants along the river, and in general all the fruits are getting ripe. One has only to walk in the garden and enjoy it as one’s soul desires. n.d. 1916 Sick and Wounded Demianchinko 30

Patients were not forgotten during holidays. In the spring of 1915, on Easter Sunday afternoon, about thirty members of the American Colony participated in the distribution of “Easter remembrances” for the wounded Russian soldiers. Among them was a minister plenipotentiary, the Honorable Herbert H. D. Peirce. 31 For three years, the American colony organized Christmas celebrations for their Russian friends. On December 26, 1916, 32 American Ambas- sador David Francis was personally introduced to each of the wounded men at the hospital. The soldiers received gift packages prepared by members of the Ladies Aid Society. George Simons praised the ladies of the colony and especially Mrs. F. A. Gaylord, “the self-scarifying chairwoman, whose brain, heart, and hand were busy a long time before making the event possible, one of which we believe the dear Russian heroes will never forget.” 33 American women organized a sewing committee presided over by the ambassadress and arranged a studio in the American Embassy, not far from the hospital, where they sewed and knitted for the soldiers and made bandages. From the beginning of the war, the committee distributed more than 6,000 articles to soldiers and their families, of which 2,800 were prepared by the American women of Petrograd and more than 3,400 were purchased elsewhere. 34 American Ambassadress Marye worked as a sister of mercy, giving the American Lazaret her wholehearted and untiring support. Americans took care not only of the soldiers themselves but also sent an array of necessary things to their families, members of whom expressed gratitude in their letters:

I, Maria Alexandrovna, wife of Simeon Andreivich Lookichev, wounded corporal, who was treated in your hospital, send the deepest gratitude to the American Colony for the package of things given to my husband, the wounded Simeon Andreivich, by the Committee, and received by me the 19th of April. I received the following—a knitted shawl, two children’s shirts with trousers, two caps, two belts, etc., with which I and my children were very much pleased. For these gifts and even more for the deep sym-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 pathy of the American Colony to my wounded husband and his family, that is to me and the children, for this kindness of the American Colony, and for the gifts sent to me, I and my children heartily thank the Commit- tee, and also for the kind treatment given to the soldiers, defenders of the Fatherland, who are evidently near to the heart of the American Colony. 22 April, 1915 Maria Alexandrovna Lookichev

Having received hospital supplies from the American Red Cross Society’s Princeton Chapter and the American Salvation Army, the executive committee of the American Colony rendered material assistance to other wartime 136 Lyubov Ginzburg hospitals, donating difficult-to-obtain essential medical supplies for pharma- cies. Americans were in close collaboration with a hospital in the Winter Palace, as well as the Taurida Hospital. At a meeting on November 3, 1915, Executive Committee Senior Surgeon Wollison was encouraged to pursue closer cooperation with Taurida Hospital physician Goldberg. 35 The hospital operated until early 1918, when conditions in the city, torn by the Great War, as well as social and political upheaval of the revolutions, drove most of the American Colony out of Petrograd. 36 On December 15, 1917, Pauline Crosley, the wife of Naval Attaché Walter Crosley, wrote in her letter: “We are working hard now to close the Lazaret; we have considerable hospital supplies and clothing, for which there is great need, and which we will distribute to worthy places.” 37 In May 1916, one could read the following announcement in the Christian Advocate :

“Letters from Russian Soldiers” who have been cared for at the American Hospital in Petrograd have appeared in pamphlet form, copies of which can be had at 50 kopeks. Mr. Frederick M. Corse and Miss May T. Potter 38 have done a piece of work that will not only be appreciated by hundreds of their compatriots in Russia and America, but these “living documents” will be of inestimable historic value in the future. 39

Corse, the principal initiator of the publication, explained that although practically every word in the letters was misspelled and punctuation was lacking, they were nevertheless written in “the simple, poetic style.” May Potter tried to do her best to translate them as literally as possible, “in order to preserve somewhat the archaic character of the original.” To some extent, the pamphlet was “a study” of “the mind and soul” of Russian peasants. 40 Corse clarified that their writing, characterized by its “attractive, quaint, and naïve form,” was largely influenced by the Bible and old fairy tales (skazki ), which constituted “the chief reading matter” of those people. 41 For example, the author of one letter, Matvei Komarov, compares his wife, longing for him in his native village, with a bird, which fits within an ancient Slavic folkloric paradigm of an enchanted beauty, often portrayed as a dove or a swan, awaiting deliverance from her misery by a brave and noble warrior. While Slavic folklore preserved

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 many tales about fantastical, mythical, sometime prophetic birds, they also related to Christian interpretations of paradise, symbolically conjuring an image of the Garden of Eden and heavenly splendor. Thus, in the same letter, as well as in many cited above, the author alluded to paradise, while sending an American sister of mercy his thanks and best wishes:

Much esteemed sister, we thank you very much for your great sympathy and send you heartfelt thanks and wish that your life may flourish like a garden flower, a rose, and that you may live in happiness and content, and for many many years, to live in joyful gladness and in good health. Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 137 I arrived home safely where my loved wife was awaiting me. She was like a white sea-gull hovering over the deep, but to this time had not found for herself a shelter, because I by my fate was far away from her and from home. I arrived at my station, my countrymen met me, I saw our native people as if I had been raised from the dead. 12 August, 1915 Matvei Komarov

The letters, originally chosen from among hundreds, and partially reproduced in the article, emphasize the importance of individual acts and social history in the understanding and interpretation of political discourse, the metamorphosis in collective consciousness, and developments in international relations. They comprise an intimate narrative of the American legacy in Russia in an era of widespread warfare and social upheaval, adding to an array of personal correspondence, diplomatic dispatches, and Russian and American press publications. Recalling sincere Russian sentiments, this modest, yet unique and historically significant collection of 22 letters reveals the deep attachment between Americans and the wounded Russian soldiers they sought to serve. Although the letters authored by Russian soldiers may seem peripheral to academic research, they and similar primary sources enhance our understanding of history, adding to abstract scholastic subject matter the vitality and dynamism that transforms the past into a constituent of universal human experience. The people behind the lines cited in this article “populate” the historical narrative, making it as charming and attractive as old photographs. As with similar initiatives, the City Hospital of the Ameri- can Colony became a decisive manifestation of the goodwill of Americans in Petrograd during the Great War, a record of which might well have been consigned to oblivion but for the “living human documents” of letters and memoirs left behind by soldiers, staff, and their accomplices. While patients expressed gratitude for the assistance they received, care providers and hospital supporters described the privilege of working with “big-hearted” fellows that were “so easy to please and so truly grateful for what was done for them”:

[L]et me express . . . from my soul my hearty thanks and wish you all things in the world for your love and care for us wounded . . . I felt just as if I were

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 at home. We were under the roof of good people who care for our bodies and sour souls and always try to do only what is kind for their neighbors. You always did only good things and it will be remembered forever and ever. 30 November, 1915 Anton Fedorovich Dogodin

I thank you very much for your care and your trouble, and for your love and for your sympathetic feelings toward us, unfortunate grey heroes. May, 1916 Matvei Komarov 138 Lyubov Ginzburg

Figure 10.4 26 Sergeevskaia Street (today Chaikovskogo Street), Petrograd/Petersburg, site of the City Hospital of the American Colony, 2010. Photo by Luybov Ginzburg

Notes 1. This letter from a Russian soldier who was cared for in the American Hospital in Petrograd was signed “Your loving sick and wounded Demianchinko” and published in English translation in a periodical of the American Methodist Episcopal Church in Russia. See Christian Advocate 86 (February 1916): 36 (20). 2. The rapprochement followed a period marked by the relative disharmony in inter- state relations due to so-called Jewish controversy and passport questions, discord over East Asia, Americans’ siding with Japan during the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–1905, and abrogation of the 1832 treaty on commerce and navigation in 1911. 3. Christian Advocate 76 (April 1915): 42 (18). 4. See Making Things Work: Russian-American Economic Relations, 1900–1930 (Stan- Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ford: Stanford University Press, 1992), 11, 14–15. 5. See Harper Barnes, Standing on a Volcano: The Life and Times of David Rowland Francis (St. Louis: Missouri Historical Society Press, 2001), 205. Barnes cites David Francis’ letter to Darwin Kinglsley (president of New York Life), dated July 10, 1916, in which the ambassador advocates for the National City Bank’s $50 million loan to the Russian government; the role of the American ambassador in facilitating the loan, as well as his personal contribution to it, is also described in Norman E. Saul’s War and Revolution: The United States and Russia 1917–1921 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2001), 66. Barnes also discusses a $96 million loan made to Russia by the New York branch of J.P. Morgan and Company for purchasing war matériel, as well as another $86 million loaned by Morgan’s office Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 139 in London. See Barnes, 183. Defining the strategy and the ways for the two countries to approach each other, one of the most prominent members of the Society for Promoting Mutual Friendly Relations between Russia and America, Nikolai Borodin, called the military conflict a catalyst of the process of the rapprochement first of all through Russia’s multimillion dollar war orders of various industrial goods, including railroad cars. Cited in: “Introduction” by E. B. Belodubrovskii, in N.A. Borodin, Izbrannye doklady, statʹi, rechi i zametki, opublikovannye v “Izvestiiakh͡ Obshchestva sblizheniia͡ mezhdu Rossiei i Amerikoi”: 1915–1918 gg (Sankt-Peterburg: Sankt-Peterburgskii soiuz uchenykh; Uralsk: Obshchestvennyi fond “Evraziiskii soiuz uchenykh,” 2009). 6. George R. Noyes’s “The Essential Elements in Tolstoy’s Ethical System” (1913) was followed by a biography Tolstoy , published by Duffield & Co. in New York in 1918. In 1916, in spite of the unfolding hostilities of the Great War, Isabel Flor- ence Hapgood “a devoted and benevolent friend of Russia,” set out on her last trip to Russia to collect materials for her history of Russian Church music. Among other works, her Epic Songs of Russia and the translation of Taras Bulba by Gogol were republished in 1915. In 1916, she published the translation of Leskov’s The Steel Flea. Harvard Professor of Russian and Slavonic Studies Leo Wiener released his renowned An Interpretation of the Russian People in 1915. In spite of the difficulties of wartime, during the winter of 1915/1916, prominent American scholars such as Samuel Harper, a Slavic professor from the University of Chicago, and Professor Francis Child came to Russia to acquire material they could bring back to America to acquaint their compatriots with Russia and its realities in times of trial. 7. Henry D. Baker, “American-Russian Business Cooperation. Remarks of Henry D. Baker, Commercial Attaché of the United States of America, at Testimonial Din- ner Given for Him by American Business Men in Petrograd, 24 May 1916.” David Rowland Francis Papers (DRFP), 1868–1919, Record Series # 02/P0274, Box 397, A-22a, Missouri Historical Society (MoHS). 8. Christian Advocate 86 (February 1916): 32 (16). In 2013, Matthew Lee Miller published The American YMCA and Russian Culture (Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2013), which is the most comprehensive history of the YMCA in Russia and its relief work, including assistance to the prisoners of war, and its impact on Russian and Soviet life. 9. George Simons writes that the Russian Committee of the American Red Cross ran a hospital at Khoy, near Teheran, for the wounded of those engaged in the operations near Hamadan. See Christian Advocate 87 (March 1916): 54 (14). 10. Christian Advocate 86 (February 1916): 32 (16). 11. Pauline S. Crosley, Intimate Letters from Petrograd (New York: E. P. Dutton & Company, 1920), 164. 12. Perovsky to Hapgood, Paris, October 1920, Isabel Florence Hapgood Papers, 1864–1922, Manuscripts & Archives Division (MAD), folder 1, box 1, New York Public Library (NYPL). Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 13. City Hospital of the American Colony, Letters from Russian Soldiers Who Have Been Cared for at the Hospital (Petrograd: American Methodist Episcopal Chapel, 1916), 4. 14. Christian Advocate 78 (June 1915): 83(15). 15. Christian Advocate 76 (April 1915): 42 (18). 16. Christian Advocate 87 (March 1916): 54 (14). 17. See the speech of the American Ambassador published in Christian Advocate 74 (February 1915), 11 (23). 18. In an address issued on August 30, 1915, to solicit sufficient means in America to carry on the work of the American Red Cross, which was about to be discontinued due to lack of funds, the members of the American Colony mentioned that “the 140 Lyubov Ginzburg American residents in Petrograd . . . maintain entirely at their personal expense, without any support from home, a special hospital for wounded soldiers in this city.” The address was signed by George Simons, Mr. L. McAllister Smith of the Guarantee Trust, Captain D. L. Hough, and others. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the City Hospital of the American Colony Held on 5/18 October 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, d. 6, Rossiisky gosudarstvenny istorichesky archive (RGIA). 19. Even prior to opening a branch in Petrograd in January 1917, the National City Bank actively supported various relief initiatives in Russia, aiding victims of war and revolutions. Bank President Frank Vanderlip became an honorary treasurer of the Russian-American Relief Association, formed in early August 1916 in Amer- ica under the auspices of Madam Bakhméteff, wife of the Russian ambassador to the United States. The association collected funds to be turned over to state organizations in Russia for distribution among needy sufferers of war. The National City Bank acted as a depository for the association. “Russian-American Relief Association,” n.d., Box F-8, Frank Arthur Vanderlip Papers, [ca. 1890–1937], Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Columbia University. When the branch was opened in Petrograd, the bank became one of the most renowned Western financial organizations involved in charitable activities in Russia in times of trial. It had active accounts for all contributions coming in for the American Refuge, whose meetings were held in the bank’s reading room. See “Semi-Annual Statement of the American Refuge: For Refugee Women and Children from the War Zone, 1 June- 1 December 1916” (Petrograd: Unicat, 1917). 20. Christian Advocate 78 (June 1915): 83(15). The cash balance was reported as 10,063.61 roubles, which is almost $228,000 in today’s currency. 21. An announcement about the hospital relocation was published in the November issue of Christian Advocate 83 (November 1915): 154 (14). Americans secured a 14-room apartment, where they could install 40 beds for patients entrusted to their care. Corse initiated necessary renovations and repairs needed to move the hospital to Sergievskaia (today Chaikovskogo Street). The move was caused by the increase of the number of patients to as many as 45. Mr. McAllister Smith proposed salary increases for doctors, which was approved by the executive committee. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the American Colony Held on 5/18 October and 3 November, 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, delo 6, RGIA. Count Perovsky called Sergievskaia the most aristocratic street in the capital; the houses on Sergievskaia were frequently visited by members of the diplomatic corps. See unpublished article by Count Michail Perovsky, Isabel Florence Hapgood Papers, box 3, MAD, NYPL. 22. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the American Colony Held on 5/18 October and 3 November, 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, delo 6, RGIA. 23. Christian Advocate 86 (February 1916): 37 (21). 24. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the American Colony Held on October 5/18 and 3 November, 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, d. 6, RGIA. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 25. Ibid. 26. See the address issued on August 30, 1915and signed by George Simons, Mr. L. McAllister Smith of the Guarantee Trust, Captain D .L. Hough, and others. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the City Hospital of the American Colony Held on 19 October 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, d. 6, RGIA. 27. Young American clerk of the National City Bank of New York Leighton Rogers, who found himself in Russia in 1916 to assist in opening its Petrograd branch, described it in his novel Wine of Fury, a fictional representation of the events that he witnessed firsthand: “She [the principal heroine] had placed on sale samples of the handiwork done by the soldiers. The funds derived there were to be devoted to enlargement and improvements.” In the novel, the sale was a great success. Rediscovering the “Living Human Documents” 141 The protagonist came with the narrator to the bank to establish an account and deposit the proceeds. See Leighton Rogers, Wine of Fury (New York, London: Alfred Knopf, 1924), 77. 28. Approximately $90.5 in contemporary U.S. dollars. 29. In another letter she is named as Sister Prince, who interceded on behalf of soldiers and requested the committee to investigate the circumstances of the plight of the soldier’s family. City Hospital of the American Colony, Letters from Russian Soldiers Who Have Been Cared for at the Hospital , 19. 30. Christian Advocate 86 (February 1916): 37 (21). 31. Christian Advocate 76 (April 1915): 41 (17). Simons clarifies that prior to his new mission, Herbert Peirce had already served as a secretary to the U.S. Legation at St. Petersburg in 1894, and in 1898 he became first secretary to the American Embassy there, when the mission was raised to that rank, remaining at the post until 1901. In 1905, he was in charge of preparations for the peace negotiations between Russia and Japan in Portsmouth, N. H. 32. George Simons describes the occasion as “a joyful event.” See Christian Advocate 97 (January 1917): (17). 33. Christian Advocate 97 (January 1917): (15). 34. The work of the Ladies Aid Society is well remembered by its participants. See Pauline S. Crosley, 27, 37. Women’s work in the hospital was also depicted on the pages of Wine of Fury by Leighton Rogers. See Rogers, 32. 35. “Minutes of the Meeting of the Executive Committee of the City Hospital of the American Colony Held on 3 November, 1915,” F. 624, op. 1, delo 6, RGIA. 36. Pauline Crosley refers to its closure in her letter dated November 20, in which she explains that the Executive Committee of the American Lazaret voted to close the hospital on January 1, 1918. Crosley wrote: “It is now more or less dangerous for the ladies to get there to work.” Crosley, 221. She also confirmed the fact in her letter dated January 20, 1918. Crosley, 261. 37. Ibid., 236. 38. She was Corse’s sister-in-law, long-term resident in Petersburg/Petrograd, and primary translator of the letters. 39. Christian Advocate 89 (May 1916). New York Times also acknowledged the release of the pamphlet. See “Russian Soldiers Are Grateful to Americans,” New York Times, June 25, 1916: SM12. Pauline Crosley mentions the publication in her letters: “Touching, appreciative letters have been received at the Lazaret, written by these men from their homes, and Miss Potter has translated many, having them published in a pamphlet.” Crosley, 27. The only copy of the pamphlet known to the author of this article is at Michigan State University in East Lansing. 40. This theme had been touched upon by a number of American observers. Among them was romantic poet Edna Dean Proctor, one of the first American female observers who, in addition to writing about the splendor of churches and pal- aces, described peasant life in Russia. See: Edna Dean Proctor, A Russian Journey (Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, 1873), 29, 127–128; Isabel Florence Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Hapgood not only rebutted inaccurate information about the Russian peasantry in her publications but ordered Russian peasant garments to be donated to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. See, for example, her publication in The Sun, entitled “Deplorable News On Russia,” March 25, 1893, in which she thought to correct misunderstandings and prejudices against Russian peasant women. The description of the curious incidents that prevented those costumes from entering the United States is described by Hapgood in her correspondence with the Tolstoy family. See Isabel Hapgood, “Notes by Isabel Hapgood on Tolstoy Letters, Donated to the New York Public Library by Hapgood in July, 1911,” Isabel Florence Hapgood Papers, box 4, MAD, NYPL; it is also worth noting that Albert Rhys Williams felt the Russian peasant “challenges our long-held convictions. He 142 Lyubov Ginzburg revises our estimate of western civilization.” See: Albert Rhys Williams, Through the Russian Revolution (New York and London: Monthly Review Press, 1967), 50. 41. Frederick Corse is cited by George Simons in the announcement. See Christian Advocate 89 (May 1916). It is necessary to add that fairy tales (skazki ), the epic songs (bylini ), songs, ritual rhymes, and other oral examples of Russian literary tradition not only constituted an important portion of Russian life, especially in traditional Russian villages, but deeply influenced Russian poets and writers. For example, Russian poet Alexander Pushkin retold in verse his old nurse’s tales. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 11 Rethinking Russia in the United States during the First World War Mr. Sigma’s American Voyage

Victoria I. Zhuravleva

We know so little about Russia and that little we know is so distorted! We know about spies, and secret police, ballets, massacres, exile to Siberia, the Jewish question, bureaucratic graft, and much of what we know is not so. We know a Yellow Russia. Most of our immigrants from Russia are not representative of Russia. They are not even Slavs, and three-fourths of Russia is Slav. They are not friendly to Russia, but nine-tenth of the real Russians, few of whom come here, are so friendly to Russia that they are willing to call it “Holy Russia” and believe it. More than that, most of the Americans who go to Rus- sia and come back to report are not representative of the United States; they are adventurous journalists seeking to find the sensational mysterious Russia of the moving picture scenario, and adventurous commercial agents who cannot speak the Russian language.

So wrote in 1916 Richard Washburn Child—a military correspondent, lawyer, politician, and later diplomat—calling on Americans to reject the perception stereotypes that inhibited cooperation between the two countries. 1 Child wrote the above passage during the First World War, an event that had opened a new page in the history of Russian-American relations. 2 During this period of growing trade, economic, military, political, and humanitarian cooperation between the two countries and the question of destroying mutual perception stereotypes and of developing academic research about each other first appeared on their bilateral relations agenda. This was the time of emergence of specialized organizations, such as The Russian-American Chamber of

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Commerce and The Society for Promoting Mutual Friendly Relations between Russia and America (Obshchestvo sblizheniia mezhdu Rossiei i Amerikoi), whose aim was to facilitate the development of economic and social partnerships and to disseminate all kinds of information about the partner country. 3 Among those who contributed to this very complex and nonlinear process of mutual rapprochement and understanding, we find Russians and Americans of very different beliefs and professions: liberals and conservatives, businessmen and journalists, scholars and professors—those who made it their profession to study the other country and those who championed better and more reliable mutual knowledge in the name of national interests—geopolitical, 144 Victoria I. Zhuravleva socioeconomic, and cultural. This article tells the story of one such individual who participated in the process of rethinking Russia in the United States during the First World War.

Who Is Mr. Sigma? “Sigma” was the pen name of Sergei Nikolaievich Syromiatnikov (1864–1934), a Russian conservative political writer, an Orientalist scholar, a traveler, and an intelligence agent. He graduated from the St. Petersburg University in 1887 with a Master of Law degree and in 1888 began his journalistic career as a contributor to the Nedelia weekly journal. In 1893, Syromiatnikov became a staff member of the Novoye vremia newspaper. In 1897, he traveled to the Far East as its correspondent and as a member of Esper Ukhtomsky’s mission that visited China, Japan, Korea, and the Russian regions of Primorye and Amur before returning to Russia through the United States. A product of this journey was his Ocherk sovremennogo polozheniia Korei. In 1898, Syromiatnikov took part in a multipurpose scientific expedition to Northern Korea, where he explored the Chemboksan Mountain Range and carried out surveys. The expedition’s findings were reported in a major work entitled Voennii obzor Korei. The year 1900 found Sigma on the shores of the Persian Gulf, where he studied the possibilities of bringing Russian merchandise to South Persia and Mesopotamia. In all of these journeys, Syromiatnikov not only worked as a journalist and as an Orientalist but also collected valuable military and diplomatic information, for which he received state decorations. 4 At that time, as the Russian Empire was turning to the East and changing its foreign policy paradigm, Syromiatnikov grew ever more convinced that Russia needed a carefully designed Eastern policy (in Korea, in Manchuria, and in the territories adjacent to the Persian Gulf) and that the fate of its empire in Europe depended on its fate in Asia. He considered Russian civilization to be of the Eastern type that was not characterized by rationalism, individualism, and materialism. Thus, in the confrontation between East and West, Russia’s role was to defend the former. 5 Syromiatnikov’s views in the second half of the 1890s were clearly influenced by Esper Ukhtomsky’s Orientalism and by Vladimir Solov’ev’s writings about the Pan-Mongol threat. 6 Once back from his Eastern trips, Syromiatnikov participated in the cre-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ation of the “Russian Assembly” (Russkoe Sobranie), an organization that he saw as a vehicle for defining national reference values for the Russian society and creating a sense of urgency for the task of aligning Russia’s present and future with its historical past. As a political writer, he became a representative of the Assembly’s left wing and, while remaining a monarchist, called for reforms that would end the unlimited power of bureaucracy and spread the consultative institutions for discussing new laws. In 1901, Syromiatnikov presented his views on the pages of his Opyty russkoi mysli (St. Petersburg 1901). In 1903, the leadership of “The Russian Assembly” suffered a split, and Syromiatnikov entered into a conflict with Vasily Velichko, a poet, political Rethinking Russia in the United States 145 writer, and activist of an extreme nationalist hue. As a result of this quarrel, Mr. Sigma was not reelected as the organization’s deputy chairman. 7 In June 1904, Sigma resigned from the editorial board at Novoe vremia and left for the Manchurian theater on special missions for the Far East governor- general ( namestnik). By that time, Syromiatnikov had abandoned his tendency to exaggerate the importance of “the yellow threat” and was calling for a pragmatic attitude toward both the West and the East. 8 In 1905–1906, after his return from Manchuria, Sigma collaborated with the Russkoe Slovo newspaper. In 1906, he met Petr Stolypin, the prime minister of the Russian Empire, was named editor of Stolypin’s newspaper Rossia , and became an eager partisan of his reform program in general and of his agrarian reform in particular. On the pages of Rossia , he explained the meaning and significance of these reforms to the general public. Syromiatnikov argued that successful peasants should be free to exit the commune (obshchina ), which he considered to be a doomed institution not worth preserving. In his view, the rural way of life had to dominate in Russia because it suited its traditions and favored the preservation of Russian cultural bases, while the role of the city was to help create a new type of Russian villages “with libraries, museums, and chemical laboratories.” 9 The outcome of the Russo-Japanese War and his close collaboration with Stolypin had changed Syromiatnikov’s geopolitical views. He was no longer interested in the issue of Russia’s cultural influence in Asia, had rejected the idea of confronting the West with the help of the East, and, with Stolypin’s resettlement program in mind, focused all efforts on the development of Siberia. Both liberals and conservatives criticized Sigma: the former for his nationalism and anti-Western attitudes, the latter for his rejection of radical nationalism and sympathy toward the Jews, and all together for the inconsistency of his convictions. 10 Meanwhile, he considered himself to be a “progressive nationalist,” the champion of “true, state conservatism” aimed at “the preservation of all that is alive and viable in our people,” “the development of what is historically necessary,” and “the defense of our time-proven ways against the untested alien ways through the education of thoughts and sentiments.” All these changes of references and emphasis notwithstanding, Syromiatnikov maintained unchanged his core perception that autocracy was the optimal

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 form of government for Russia, which he imagined as “a free democracy with a free Tsar who cared for all his subjects.” This conservative thinker saw the future of the Russian Empire in the transition to the “ Zemstvo state” with elected councils advising governors and ministers. 11 Sigma’s last prewar big project was his participation in the preparation of an unsuccessful expedition to the North Pole undertaken by Georgy Sedov in 1912. 12 The First World War had made serious corrections in Sigma’s plans and attitudes, turning him into a champion of Russia’s rapprochement with England and the United States to counterbalance the German Empire. Nevertheless, in his earlier works, he had also acknowledged the value of Western experience 146 Victoria I. Zhuravleva in creating the right conditions for self-development and self-realization. In the anti-German publication Nashi vragi (Our Enemy) published at the start of the war, Syromiatnikov discredited “the Prussian friendship” and took a stance in defense of Great Britain. Going against the traditional Russian conservative opinion, Sigma argued that Russia had to ally with England against “the German barbarians” because neither Russia nor England sought the world supremacy, and so these two countries could find a way to reconcile their differences after the war. 13

To Persuade Americans to Learn Russia In early 1915, the Russian Interior Ministry sent Sergey Nikolayevich Syromi- atnikov to the United States for the purpose of creating a multifaceted body of knowledge about Russia in the American society through press publications and personal contacts. 14 On a more general level, the issue to resolve was getting the United States to move closer to the Entente, which was made difficult not only by the isolationism of the Washington administration but also by its unwillingness to join an alliance that included an autocratic Russia. The New York Times reported that the Russian political commentator came to New York on February 20, 1915, on board the Lusitania in order “to gather intelligence as to the state of feeling in this state with regard to Russia.” 15 Sigma’s American visit was originally planned to last until the end of June, but his work was so fruitful that his stay was extended for another six months. He made his appearance in the American press with a call for the establishment of direct trade and economic relations between the two countries and for serious academic research on Russia. He argued that after the end of the war, Russia would make the United States and Great Britain its main trading partners instead of Germany, while the development of Russian Studies would lay the ground for this economic rapprochement and liberate American buyers from their dependence on German intermediaries in their contacts with Rus- sian vendors. In order to support his argument, he cited as positive examples the School of Russian Studies at the University of Liverpool, actively supported by The Anglo-Russian Chamber of Commerce in London and founded by his friend, a well-known English specialist on Russia, Bernard Pares. In Syromiatnikov’s view, Columbia University would be a good initial base for 16

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Russian Studies in the United States. This was the time when the academic field of Russian Studies was barely coming into being in the United States, thanks to the efforts of Archibald Coolidge and Leo Wiener at Harvard University; George Noyes at the Uni- versity of California; and also Charles Crane, who stood at the origins of the Slavic program at the University of Chicago and also funded Samuel Harper’s personal “Russian program,” helping him to become a renowned specialist in the Russian question. Charles Crane and Samuel Harper both belonged to the liberal wing of the American Russophiles, who promoted the study of Russia and were enchanted by its unique culture but at the same time stood for the Rethinking Russia in the United States 147 liberalization of Russia’s political regime that could be guided by politicians such as Pavel Miliukov. Nevertheless, the overall progress of Russian Stud- ies in the United States before the First World War was more than modest, in spite of the fact that a network of university research centers and library collections had been created and that Frank Golder had defended the first dissertation in this field. The Russian language was systematically taught only at Harvard and at the University of California, Berkeley, although in the first decade of the twentieth century, there were also some courses taught at the Universities of Chicago, Michigan, and Wisconsin, as well as Johns Hopkins University. Only Harvard and Berkeley had Russian history programs; in 1902, the former only had 13 students in its Slavic Studies program, and this number only grew by two by 1912–1913. 17 The First World War opened a new chapter in the development of Russian Studies in America, and Syromiatnikov had made a definite contribution to this process. In response to Syromiatnikov’s article, the secretary of Columbia University, Frank D. Fackenthal, published a letter to the editor of The New York Times in which he informed the public about the creation of the Slavonic Department at Columbia University in 1913–1914 and about the growing number of students who took the courses taught by John Dyneley Prince, professor of Semitic and Slavic languages: from six students who took the “History of the Slavonic nations and races” course in 1913–1914 to 39 students who took the “Slavonic history” course in 1915. These students were also attending a Russian language course that was first offered that same year. Fackenthal ended his letter saying that “of course, all this may seem a small beginning, but it at least indicates a healthy and growing interests along the lines so ably laid down by Mr. Syromiatnikoff. 18 George Bakhmetev, Russia’s ambassador to the United States, reported that two professors at Columbia University, John Prince and Michael Pupin, 19 had supported Syromiatnikov’s idea about creating Russian Studies courses. The ambassador emphasized that “Pupin who enjoys an outstanding position in the academic circles hopes to raise all the necessary funds for this undertaking among companies interested in the development of Russian trade.” 20 Mean- while, John Prince had not only contributed to the development of Russian Studies research at Columbia University during the war but also gave popular lectures about Russia and raised funds for the Russian Red Cross.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 In 1915, Columbia University hired its first Russian language professor, Eliz- abeth Reynolds. Since 1911, this talented American translator and promoter of Russian literature and culture had been in regular correspondence with Sergei Syromiatnikov. She would marry in 1916 Norman Hapgood, a literary critic and editor of Collier’s Weekly and Harper’s Weekly. The latter, owned by Charles Crane, became a forum for disseminating all kinds of information about Russia. 21 By 1913, Syromiatnikov was already trying to persuade Eliza- beth Reynolds to visit the Russian Empire as a representative of an influential American newspaper or weekly magazine, “such as are not decidedly hostile to Russia and not directed by the Russophobian Jews. Should a convenient paper 148 Victoria I. Zhuravleva send you to us be found,” he wrote, “you must consider Russia not from the Russian point of view, as now, but from the American one and for that purpose you must study not only the existing economical relation between both countries, but also the possible results on their better mutual understanding.” 22 Elizabeth Reynolds later became the founder of the Russian Department at Dartmouth College (1918); in the meantime, she and Zinaida Ragozin, a Russian-born American and Sigma’s old friend and colleague from the Rossia newspaper, mobilized their contact networks to help Syromiatnikov. 23 What Syromiatnikov wanted to promote was not just the establishment of Russian Studies programs in the United States but also the creation of student exchanges for Russian Studies majors from the United States and American Studies majors from Russia. As he insisted in one of his publications, “our young men could learn much from you, and you Americans could gain a correct understanding of Russia through our universities.” 24 Sigma considered the development of Russian Studies based on Russian language teaching to be an essential condition for the elimination of perception stereotypes and for the refutation of false rumors that spread through the American society from the actions of Russian revolutionaries, American Jews, and German-born Americans. In his interviews, he painted an image of Russia as a “glorious free democratic country, where women enjoy equal rights with men, where the son of the peasant may attain the rank of nobleman, where the spiritual dominates the material,” where “the government is organized for the protection of the weak against the powerful lords and the tsar is the pro- tector of the poor.” 25 This was an image of Russia that had shaken off the “enchantment of alcoholism” after the prohibition decree issued by the tsar in December 1914, the decree that had opened new horizons for the Russian people. It was no accident that Sigma repeatedly spoke about “Russia’s sobering up,” as Americans considered hard drinking to be one of the main obstacles to Russia’s progress; their journalists and commentators compared the decree issued by Nicholas II to the path-breaking reforms implemented by Peter I and Alexander II. 26 This theme resonated with the growth of the Prohibition movement in the United States, just as the problem of emancipating Russian women was directly linked to the movement for women’s rights and expansion of women’s social roles in the United States during the Progressive Era. In interviews and publications, Sigma tried to defy the Russophobe image

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of Russia as a country ruled by a cruel and despotic government whose victory would mean the expansion of an aggressive Pan-Slavism, a threat to Western civilization; of a Russia whose soldiers “indulge themselves in hanging Jews by the hundreds and in violating their wives and daughters,” whose people “are but a host of barbarians.” 27 In order to dispel these conceptions, Syromiatnikov evoked the idea of a harmonious unity between the tsar and his people, and it was precisely in this vein that he mentioned the state repression of political criminals, whose main aim was regicide. Sigma reassured Americans that in this case, just as in 1905–1907, when the Russian government had to fight lawlessness and Rethinking Russia in the United States 149 anarchy during the revolution that was in great part instigated from abroad, that its cruelty was justified. As to atrocities committed by the Russian soldiers against the Jews on the front line, Sigma insisted that they were limited to the Jewish spies that collaborated with Germany and that they bore no comparison to the violence that Germany had unleashed toward both Jews and Christians. Syromiatnikov was not only ignoring the tragic statistics of the anti-Jewish violence along the front line but was also using the well-known device of comparing the anti-Jewish pogroms in Russia with the lynching of African-Americans in the United States. Sigma’s pen drew an image of Rus- sia whose Pan-Slavism was not of the expansionist but of the liberating kind:

During the last fifty years, we were busy emancipating the millions of Russian serfs; establishing local self-government, modern and accessible justice, railroads, schools, small holdings; we emancipated Bulgaria from the Turkish yoke as we are now emancipating the Serbians, Bohemians, Slovaks and Russians from the Austrian and the Poles from the German yoke . . . Russia goes slowly along her own road. She is not selfish and she gives more than she takes. She does not want any help but to help her in her mission. 28

Syromiatnikov’s conclusions that the Americans needed to comprehend Russia through its history, soul, and thoughts directly resonated with Isabel Hapgood’s exhortation “to see Russia with the eyes of the heart” and with other similar arguments of the conservative wing of the American-Russophile discourse. 29 Incidentally, both Isabel Hapgood and Elizabeth Reynolds had attended Sigma’s public lecture at the “Russian People’s House in New York,” at which he reflected on the emancipatory mission of the Russian Empire toward its Slavic brothers and on the unity of the Russian people in the face of the “German barbarism.” 30 Overall, as the two countries began to move closer together, the demand for the Russophile discourse proved to be quite high in the American society, especially where the need for mutual academic studies was concerned. Three months after Sigma’s arrival in New York, Russian Ambassador Bakhmetev informed St. Petersburg that “thanks to the skill and tactfulness that Sigma demonstrated in his main publications and in his personal rela-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 tions not only with Russia’s friends, but also with those prejudiced against us,” he was able to engage in a whole series of activities that “informed the local public opinion about the true state of affairs in Russia.” The ambassador petitioned for Syromiatnikov’s stay to be extended so that, apart from organizing the Russian Studies courses that he had in mind, he could also create an organization dedicated exclusively to the dissemination of reliable information about Russia. 31 Soon afterward, Syromiatnikov presented through Bakmetev his project of creating in New York a “Russian Slavonic Translation Office” that would exert a continuous influence on the American public opinion by supplying the press 150 Victoria I. Zhuravleva with accurate information about Russian current affairs and transmitting translated texts from Russian newspapers, magazines, and books to the Associated Press. All of this would lay a foundation for “the correct manner of studying Rus- sia in the United States.” Syromiatnikov envisioned that the office would send some statistics and announcements to the Slavic-language newspapers controlled by Germany and would also furnish materials for the Russian Emigrant that was on the verge of shutdown. 32 The ambassador wholly supported both Syromiat- nikov’s initiative and his request for a monthly stipend of 500 dollars, noting that, after the Russian agent departed, it would be necessary to find a replacement person with appropriate political convictions and excellent English and to have his activities controlled by the Embassy and by the consulate-general. 33 Sigma strove to confront not only the American Russophobes but also the champions of the Liberal-Universalist discourse, who dreamt of renovating the Russian Empire through a Western-style liberal revolution. Since the fall of 1914, George Kennan, the leader of the “friends of Russian freedom movement,” felt quite inspired by the possibility of a revolution in Russia because, in his view, the wartime conditions had brought together all the progressive forces of the country. He had even renounced his pessimistic view of the peasantry, viewing instead its liberal and tolerant nature and welcoming the prohibition on the sale of vodka that had been destroying the muzhiks ’ body and soul for centuries. 34 While Kennan was persuading the Americans that the war would bring victory and revolution to the Russian Empire, and his only doubt was whether that revolution could be limited to the political and nonviolent kind, 35 Syro- miatnikov was doing everything in his power to dispel “the myth about the forthcoming revolutionary transformations in Russia.” He used three lines of argument in order to achieve this purpose. First of all, as he had already done on many other occasions, he denounced “the scheming Germany” for her interest in a revolutionary explosion in Russia and active efforts to foment it (referring to the myth about “the German money for a Russian revolution”). Second, he spoke about the impending resolution of the “Jewish question” that would diminish the influx of Jewish activists into the revolutionary movement (evoking the myth about “the Russian Jews as the revolution- makers”). Third, Sigma emphasized that Russian Social-Democratic leaders (so called Men’sheviki-Oborontsy), such as Georgiy Plekhanov, were now sid-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ing with the government on the issue of fighting the German imperialism “to the victorious end.” To prove this, Sigma circulated in the American press Plekhanov’s letter to an ex-State Duma member written on July 21, 1915, and also the Men’sheviki-Oborontsy ’ manifesto published in November 1915 in a Samara-based newspaper Volshskii Den and signed by, among others, Georgy Plekhanov and Leo Deutsch. This document stated that Russia’s defeat in the fight against Germany was equivalent to its defeat in the struggle for freedom. In Sigma’s interpretation, these documents bore witness to how far Russia was from a revolution, “prophesied with such persistency by the Germans and by the friends of Russian ‘freedom’ abroad, misguided by the German agent.” 36 Rethinking Russia in the United States 151 In an attempt to dissociate himself from Syromiatnikov’s defense of the Tsar- ist Russia, Leo Deutsch replied to Sigma in a separate article, which included the section of the manifesto that had not made it to the Russian newspapers due to censorship. In these omitted paragraphs, the authors argued that in fighting Germany, the Russian people were fighting not for their tsar but for their freedom. A victory of the German Empire would lead to the strengthening of the old regime in Russia, which is why the Russian reactionaries were ready to make a separate peace with Germany. The Russian people would never forgive the tsarist government its incapacity to defend Russia, but, if Russia suffered a defeat in this war, it would be impermissible to blame it on the revolutionaries. The paradox of the Russian situation was that a national defeat was the only bridge to national freedom, but a successful class struggle that would bring it about required social and political conditions that would not emerge were Ger- many to win the war. Leo Deutsch criticized Sigma’s main conclusion—that the signs of an impending revolution were absent—and insisted that it was inevitable while the tsarist government continued its reactionary and unpa- triotic policy and while the Russian people were forced to fight in two fronts, against both external and internal enemies, at the same time.37 This explanation of the Russian Social-Democrats’ position undermined Sigma’s chain of arguments. Thus, with his characteristic zeal, he struck back at Deutsch, saying that if Russia emerged victorious from this war, the Rus- sian people were unlikely to rise against the authors of this victory. The commentator insisted that wartime was not a proper time to change the country’s main law, however imperfect it was, and that Deutsch’s arguments could “not lessen the great historic importance of the patriotic manifesto published by the United Russian Socialists.” 38 Finally, one of the main goals of Sigma’s American campaign was to form a perception about Russia’s economic and military might and to present it as a creditworthy country that knew how to make war and had the necessary resources for it. The assurances about Russia’s adequate war-making capacity became especially timely in the summer and fall of 1915, when the Russian Army made a strategic retreat from Galicia and Poland in order to gain time for strengthening its military industry as well as for training personnel and increasing reserves. This retreat caused a serious emotional shock within the Russian army and society and provoked unflattering comments on the pages

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of the American press. Syromiatnikov explained that this retreat was part of the Russian military leadership’s original strategic plans that could not be realized earlier due to the need to support its allies; he also mentioned Napoleon Bonaparte’s hapless Russian campaign as a precedent. As to the skepticism that the American journalists expressed with regard to the high military spirits of the Russian army, Sigma argued that it was primarily due to the fact that the news from the Eastern Front came to the United States through Berlin and thus had an anti-Russian bias. 39 The economic stability of the Russian Empire came under discussion when the Entente countries made known their intention to borrow money from the 152 Victoria I. Zhuravleva United States. In response, Syromiatnikov entered into yet another debate with those who, like his opponent Dr. L.M. Melamed, tried to persuade the Americans that Russia’s economic system was on the verge of collapse. Once more, Sigma first accused them of relying on German information sources, then pointed to the stability of those parts of the economy that produced the bulk of the state revenue, and ended his article with the following rhetorical turn:

May I ask Mr. Melamed why, if Russia is in the awful economic position he tries to persuade your readers she is in, all peace rumors come from Ber- lin, while the Russian parliament, which knows better than Mr. Melamed Russia’s real economic situation, has voted unanimously to continue the war until complete victory has been won? Perhaps Mr. Melamed’s data comes to him, not from Russia, but from Berlin. 40

Sigma’s refrain about the peculiar kind of information war that Germany was waging against Russia on the pages of the American press started to gain resonance in the American society after the sinking of the British ocean liner Lusitania on May 7, 1915; there were Americans among its passengers. To be sure, a massive surge of anti-German sentiments did not come until the United States entered the First World War. Yet, by 1916, the image of the demonic German “Other” had already made its appearance in the American political cartoons. Cartoonists constructed this image by using the already familiar dichotomy “Civilization-Barbarism” that was characteristic of the first crisis period in the Russian-American relations. Now the German Empire began to gradually displace the Russian Empire in the hierarchy of external hostile “Others.” 41 Syromiatnikov justified the need for a Russian-American rapprochement by referring to Russia’s special geopolitical location between America’s two enemies—Germany and Japan. According to him, both the world political map and nineteenth-century history spoke to the expediency of a mutually beneficial cooperation between Russia and the United States. Yet, in spite of this self-evident situation, the American press and part of the American society impeded the progress of mutual understanding between the two people due to the machinations of three hostile social forces: the Russian revolutionaries, supported by such “friends of Russian freedom” as George Kennan; the 42

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 German-born Americans; and the American Jews. The Russian revolutionaries and the Jews were part of the customary pantheon of “Russia’s enemies in the United States”; the American Germans were now added because Ger- many had taken Great Britain’s place among the external enemies of the Rus- sian Empire. As if to prove Sigma right, these “three hostile groups” had launched an attack on him in the American press. The revolutionaries argued that he was presenting a distorted picture of Russian current affairs in order to dispel the myth about an imminent revolution. The American Germans rebuked him for seeing everything through the lens of German intrigues. The Jews accused Rethinking Russia in the United States 153 him of ignoring “the Jewish question” and purposely shifting the blame for the anti-Jewish violence onto the Jews themselves. Sigma’s most consistent critics were found within the American-Jewish community whose members cited as evidence in their favor the large number of Jews that fought against Germany in the ranks of the Russian Army instead of avoiding the draft and fleeing to the United States, as Syromiatnikov would have them do. They also emphasized the appalling scale of the violence against the Jewish population of the front line zone. 43 In November 1915, Sigma finally overstepped the line and broke the rules of diplomatic etiquette in relations between friendly states, as he published critical pieces against the American Jews on the pages of The New York Tribune . Ambas- sador Bakhmetev was perplexed and greatly annoyed by the following one:

But the Jewish agitation in the United States press and society endan- gers not only the fate of the Jews in Russia, but imperils the possibility of a better understanding between the great republic and the great empire, because it suggests to the Russian statesmen the wrong idea that the United States has no policy of its own, no government of its own, and that it is preferable and more efficient to treat with the Alliance Israelite than with the government at Washington regarding American affairs. 44

It might, of course, be noted that, in his own reports, Ambassador Bakhme- tev neither minced his words nor hid his exasperation when he wrote about the American Jews who were obstructing the making of a new trade treaty between the two countries. 45 On the other hand, the U.S. ambassador in Russia, David Francis, was also extremely put off by the difficulties that the Jewish community caused for the development of normal bilateral trade and economic relations. 46 However, these two individuals confined their frustration to confidential diplomatic correspondence; press articles were a very different matter. Besides, Bakhmetev was preoccupied by Sigma’s criticism of the German influence in the United States, which was too persistent for an independent expert. In the end, the ambassador changed his opinion about Syromiatnikov, described him as too independent, unpredictable, and ambitious for the mission of a public relations agent, and asked for his recall. 47 After Sigma’s departure, Bakhmetev wanted to replace him with Jerome Land-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 field, an American who taught at the University of California, Berkeley; knew Russia; spoke Russian; and was married to a Russian. But Landfield asked for too much money as payment for his services. 48 In January 1916, not long before Mr. Sigma left the United States, The New York Times published a telegram from Berlin informing that Syromiatnikov had been sent to America in order to organize a propaganda campaign in favor of the tsarist government. The latter responded with a letter to the editor, saying that:

Russia does not need a propaganda in the United States, because most American citizens are favorably disposed toward her. But Russia does need 154 Victoria I. Zhuravleva to be known. The greatest obstacle to Americans in the understanding of Russia is their ignorance of the Russian language. My constant task here is to persuade my American friends to learn Russian, as the only means of knowing the great Empire. 49

According to Sergey Syromiatnikov’s grandnephew Boris, who has studied the family correspondence, the family members did not know much about his journey to the United States, and what little they knew came from the traveler’s own words:

He would tell that he was sent there in order to promote America’s entry into the War on the side of the Entente. According to him, his mission was purely formal, because that was really not what the Tsarist government had wanted. He explained that he had overdone it and was taken out of the game, because he did not take heed of the kid-glove diplomacy of those times. 50

Obviously, Sigma was ill served by his polemic zeal, but it is worth noting that his activities blended with and at the same time encouraged the movement of the two countries toward a more reliable and multifaceted mutual knowledge, the rejection of perception stereotypes, and toward the establishment of academic research programs about the other country. Although the Russian Slavonic Translation Office created by Syromiatnikov in New York had but one staff member, Madame De Bogori, and its activities were limited to the dissemination of translated Russian articles in the American press, the Russian government had not abandoned the idea of creating an information bureau in the United States, and this initiative received a new impulse after the February Revolution. 51 As far as the Russian Studies in the United States were concerned, the war years were the time of their true takeoff. At Harvard and Berkeley, more and more students took courses in Slavic Studies. Meanwhile, Columbia Univer- sity, where John Dyneley Prince championed the Russian Studies program, opened the first Russian language program in the country. Like Syromiatnikov, Prince justified these innovations by pointing to the need of developing trade relations with the Great Russian Empire. 52

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 In fact, the ideas expressed by Syromiatnikov floated in the air and were repli- cated by American journalists, businessmen, public figures, Slavic Studies scholars, and Russophiles. In Russia, these same ideas were actively propagated by Americanophiles, such as Nikolay Borodin and Ivan Ozerov. What Syromiat- nikov did was to capture correctly the main trends of changes that were already occurring in the mutual perceptions of Russians and Americans. He correctly assumed that New York was the best place for offering Russian language courses, and the Americans had then indeed created such courses there. 53 The geographic reach of the Russian Studies in the United States also grew during the First World War. In 1916, the University of Washington in Rethinking Russia in the United States 155 Seattle inaugurated its Russian Language program. The Russian Consul in Nome and Seattle, N. V. Bogoyavlensky reported to the Embassy that the Russian language classes had “a demand that was surprisingly high,” given the not-so-successful experience at the University of California. The program had 23 students in its midday classes and 59 more in the evening slots, and the numbers just kept growing. “The opening of the Russian-language courses would not be so important by itself,” wrote Bogoyavlensky to the Embassy in Washington,

[B]ut under the current conditions it deserves to be mentioned as a peaceful Russian victory in America and furthermore as a means of fighting American prejudices against Russia. When I came to America three years ago, I was struck by the ignorance that even well-educated Americans with university degrees demonstrated with regard to Russia and everything Russian. . . . While our ideas of America were excessively rosy, Americans had gone too far in the opposite direction. . . . Seattle is the gateway for the American trade with Eastern Siberia, and we should not be indifferent to what its population thinks about us. 54

The June 1916 issue of the Russian-American Journal of Commerce that was published in New York in two languages and whose aim was to promote closer economic ties between the two countries featured an editorial that said:

Voices that call for a closer and more careful study of Russia sound ever more frequently and ever clearer in the American press and in private conversations. They call for a study that is neither mechanical nor limited to numbers, but that allows us to know Russia’s aspirations and hopes, its potential forces and resources, its way of life—its very spirit. Hardly a month passes without several new works about Russia appearing in the American book market. Whatever the perspective of their authors, these books are all imbued with the same spirit—that of sympathy towards Russia. 55

According to I. G. Loris-Melikov, the first secretary of the Russian Embassy in the United States who traveled through the American Midwest in early

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 1915, the U.S. citizens who had been impacted by stories of cruel pogroms , the horrors of the Siberian exile, and the persecutions of the Finns “are now ready to lend their ears to the vivid descriptions of Russian valor, the spiritual and economic might of our Fatherland.” In 1916, Bakhmetev confirmed Loris- Melikov’s impression in stating that the Russians “have become the center of attention, admiration, and hope for the Americans.” 56 Sigma’s scope of action in the United States was limited in two ways. First, the fact that he was Russian and represented the Russian government inevi- tably placed in doubt the objectivity of his position. By contrast, the publications and presentations made by figures such as Samuel Harper, an American 156 Victoria I. Zhuravleva Russophile of the liberal kind, inspired much greater trust. In April 1916, A. M. Volkov, Russia’s consul-general in Chicago, spoke very highly about the results of Harper’s work in his letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs:

During his stay in the United States, Professor Harper has worked very actively and successfully in order to acquaint Americans with what is now happening in our Fatherland. His newspaper articles, public presentations in university forums, and, finally, conversations about Russia with his numerous and influential acquaintances—all these activities must undoubtedly be put to the young professor’s credit. It would be no mistake to say that Prof. Harper’s pro-Russian work has made him very popular with the Americans and has given him his well-deserved reputation of an expert in Russia. . . . I should only like to point out that people like him are extremely useful for us and work much more productively, especially in comparison with the highly-paid sworn journalists, such as Mr. Sigma (Syromiatnikov) whom we have had to maintain here in the States. 57

Second, we must not forget that the American foreign policy agenda during the First World War and the joint U.S.-Russian opposition to the “German threat” had strengthened America’s messianic liberalism, as well as her economic and religious ambitions, and thus had created conditions for another wave of enthusiasm about the Russians’ capacity to create “the United States of Russia.” For the first time, the excessive hopes of Russia’s renewal and transformation into an image and likeness of a Western country have brought closer together “the liberal crusaders” and the Russophiles. From 1915 onward, American Russophiles started “westernizing Russia” by drawing parallels between the two countries’ development trajectories—an activity that had previously been completely foreign to them. 58 As the February 1917 revolution drew closer, the U.S. president and the secretary of state, political commentators and public figures, priests and journalists, businessmen and literati were gradually drawn into one more American crusade for the cause of Russian freedom as they recognized their involvement in the renovation of the country that was enchanting and repelling them at the same time and produced such strong emotions and divergent evaluations on the other side of the Atlantic.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ***  Sergey Nikolayevich Syromiatnikov had crossed the bridge from Tsarist Rus- sia to the Soviet epoch. When he was denounced and the Bolsheviks arrested him, he wrote a letter to Vladimir Ilyich Lenin (Ulyanov), recalling that in 1887 he was expelled from the St. Petersburg University for the storage of illegal literature. At that time, Syromiatnikov was the librarian of “The Student Society for Science and Literature,” whose members included the participants of the March 1, 1887, conspiracy. One of them was Alexander Ulyanov, Len- in’s older brother. Syromiatnikov was liberated and allowed to look for work Rethinking Russia in the United States 157 in his field. In 1924, he obtained a nonstaff position at the Institute of Living Oriental Languages in Leningrad. Syromiatnikov dedicated the last years of his life to memoir writing. Unfor- tunately, he left this task unfinished, and thus we do not have his own narrative about his voyage to the United States during the First World War, which has not been properly appreciated either by his contemporaries or by scholars. Perhaps the only exception was the attitude of the French government, which in 1917 decorated Sigma with “La Légion d’Honneur” for the impact that his American voyage had on the rapprochement between the United States and the Entente.

Notes 1. R. W. Child, Potential Russia (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1916), 186–87. 2. Reflections on the history of Russian-American relations during the First World War can be found in the work of Rafail Sh. Ganelin, Rossiia i SShA. 1914–1917: Ocherki istorii russko-amerikanskih otnosheni (Leningrad: Nauka,1969); Viacheslav V. Lebedev, Russko-amerikanskie ekonomicheskie otnosheniia, 1900–1917 (Mos- cow: Mezhdu-otnosh., 1964). American specialized research includes Benson L. Grayson, Russian-American Relations in World War I (New York: Ungar, 1979) and Norman E. Saul, War and Revolution: The United States and Russia, 1914–1921 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2001). 3. Saul, War and Revolution, 26–31; Victoria I. Zhuravleva, Ponimanie Rossii v SShA: Obrazy i Mify. 1881–1914 (Moscow: Russian State Humanities University, 2012), 997–1111. 4. Boris D. Syromiatnikov, ‘Strannye’ puteshestviia i komandirovki ‘SIGMY’ (1897. . . 1916): istoriko-dokumental’naia povest’-rassledovanie (St. Petersburg, 2004), 10, 50; Boris D. Syromiatnikov, “U istokov otechstvennogo koreevedeniya. Zabytye imena: Sergey Nikolayevich Syromiatnikov,” in Vestnik Tsentra koreiskogo iazika , ed. Sergei O. Kurbanov, 113–17, 122–29. St. Petersburg, 2005. 5. Boris Syromiatnikov, ‘Strannye’ puteshestviya i komandirovki ‘SIGMY’ , 107. 6. David Schimmelpenninck van der Oye, Toward the Rising Sun: Russian Ideologies of Empire and the Path to War with Japan (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2001), 43–60, 206. 7. Yurii I. Kirianov, Russkoe sobranie, 1900–1917 (Moscow: ROSSPEN, 2003), 25, 28, 34. 8. Sigma. “Chto takoe panmongolism?” Novoe vriemia , January 6, 1904. 9. S. N. Syromiatnikov, B. V. Iurievskiy, Zemleustroitel’nii smotr (Zemel’nii vopros v Rossii. Obsledovanie sovremennogo sostoyaniya hutorskih hozyaistv) (St. Petersburg, 1913), 16–17, 21–22, 31, 34. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 10. M. Pr., “Natsionalisticheskii frukt (S. N. Syromiatnikov (Sigma), Opyty russkoy mysli, SPb, 1901),” Russkaia mysl 12 (1901): 164–66, 169; V. L. Velichko, “Stran- nye pretenzii i Adelaida g. Sigmy, ” Russkii vestnik 4 (1903): 779–82, 787, 789, 793. 11. Syromiatnikov (Sigma), Opyty russkoi mysli , 44, 71, 98. 12. Besides the above-cited book by Boris Syromiatnikov, Sigma’s grandnephew, detailed information on his biography and views can be found in Alexander V. Repnikov, “S. N. Syromiatnikov: shtrihi k portretu,” Intelligentsiia i mir 3 (2010): 93–106; Repnikov and Kirill A. Soloviev, “Obshchestvennyi chelovek Sigma,” Rodina 10 (2011): 115–20. 13. S. N. Syromiatnikov (Sigma), “Iz russko-germanskih otnoshenii,” in Nashi vragi: ocherki professorov P. I. Kovalevskogo, S. N. Syromiatnikova (Sigma) i A. M. 158 Victoria I. Zhuravleva Mikhailova, 1 (1915): 59–61; A. V. Repnikov “Obraz Germanii v predstavleniah russkih konservatorov nakanune i v gody Pervoi mirovoi voini,” in Konservatizm v Rossii i Germanii: opyt internatsional’nogo dialoga , ed. Arkadii Iu. Minakov, 99–101, 104. Voronezh: Voronezh State University, 2012. 14. The author could not find any documents about this journey either in the Manu- script Division of the Russian Literature Institute of the Russian Academy of Sciences or in the Russian Art and Literature Archive (the corresponding fund numbers for Sergei Nikolaevich Syromiatnikov are 655 and 1757). The main body of archival documents used in this article (including the published ones) is from the holdings of the Archive of the Foreign Policy of the Russian Empire (AVPRI). 15. “Russian Official Here,” The New York Times , February 23, 1915. 16. S. N. Syromiatnikoff “America’s Chance for Russian Trade,” The New York Times , March 15, 1915. 17. Albert Parry, America Learns Russian. A History of the Teaching of the Russian Lan- guage in the United States (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1967), 45–64; Rob- ert F. Byrnes, Awakening American Education to the World. The Role of Archibald Cary Coolidge, 1866–1928 (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1982), 49–86; Byrnes, A History of Russian and East European Studies in the United States (New York: 1994), 5–19, 173–97; Norman Saul, Concord and Conflict. The United States and Russia, 1867–1914 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1996), 390–95, 461–64; Saul , The Life and Times of Charles R. Crane, 1858–1939 (Lan- ham, MD: Lexington Books, 2013), 46–48, 52–61; David C. Engerman, Mod- ernization from the Other Shore. American Intellectuals and the Romance of Russian Development (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003), 54–66; Zhuravl- eva, Ponimanie Rossii v SShA , 311–319, 972–80. 18. “A Slavonic Department. Letter of Frank D. Fackenthal to the Editor of the New York Times,” The New York Times , March, 25, 1915. 19. A physicist and physical chemist by training, Michael Pupin is best known for his numerous patents and as a founding member of National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (1915) and from 1911 as the consul-general of the Serbian Kingdom in New York. 20. Bakhmetev’s telegram, March 13/26, 1915, in Rossiia i SShA: Diplomaticheskie Otnosheniia v 1900–1917: Dokumenty [hereafter Rossiia i SShA:. Dokumenty ], ed. Grigorii N. Sevostianiv, 607. Moscow: Nauka 1999. 21. Saul, War and Revolution , 34. 22. Syromiatnikov to Elizabeth Reynolds, August 18, 1913, Hapgood-Reynolds Papers, Box 12, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress. 23. Saul, War and Revolution , 32. 24. F. England, “In Russia, at Least, Woman’s Rights and Opportunities Are Equal to Man’s, Says Count Syromiatnikoff,” The New York Tribune, April 10, 1915. Syromi- atnikov responded to this publication with a letter to the editor, in which he made the following correction: “I have not the title of count and never shall have.” 25. Ibid. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 26. William E. Johnson, The Liquor Problem in Russia (Westerville, Ohio: American Issue Company, 1915), 194–95, 198–99, 204–17; David S. Foglesong, The Ameri- can Mission and the “Evil Empire”: The Crusade for a “Free Russia” since 1881 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 48–49. See also Patricia Herlihy, The Alcoholic Empire: Vodka and Politics in Late Imperial Russia (New York: Oxford Uni- versity Press, 2002). 27. S. Syromiatnikoff “Russia’s Big, Slow-Beating Heart,” The New York Times , May 23, 1915. 28. Ibid. 29. On the subject of Russophile discourse, see Zhuravleva, Ponimanie Rossii v SShA , 258–71. Rethinking Russia in the United States 159 30. “A lecture by S. N. Syromiatnikov,” Russkii Emigrant , March 17, 1915. 31. Bakhmetev telegram, April 30/May 13, 1915, in Rossiia i SShA. Dokumenty , 608. 32. In the end, Russkii Emigrant had to close, and Syromiatnikov could not buy its property. Therefore, he persuaded Bakhmetev that the goal of “educating the Rus- sian population in the United States in the manner desirable for our government would be better served by developing and bringing under the Embassy’s control the existing periodicals, and first of all Russkaia Zemlia, the newspaper published by the Russian Orthodox Mission in New York.” Bakhmetev’s telegram, Novem- ber 29, 1915, in ibid., 617–18. 33. Bakhmetev telegram, June 10, 1915, in Rossiya i SShA. Dokumenty , 608–09. 34. George Kennan, “The Spiritual Uplift in Russia,” Outlook 108 (October, 1914): 377–80. See also Outlook 109 (January, February 1915): 71–74, 371–74. 35. Frederick F. Travis, George Kennan and American-Russian Relationship. 1865–1924 (Athens: Ohio University Press, 1990), 316–48. 36. “Russia’s Opposition. S. N. Syromiatnikoff’s Letter to the Editor, October 24,” The New York Sun, October 26, 1915; S. N. Syromiatnikoff, “The Myth of a Russian Revolution,” The New York Times , November 19, 1915. 37. L. Deutsch, “Russia’s Winding Road to Freedom,” The New York Times , Novem- ber 25, 1915. 38. S. N. Syromiatnikoff “The Loyalty of Russian Revolutionists,” The New York Times , December 2, 1915. A German professor answered this article with a publication, in which he demonstrated that “Russia is on the verge of a social revolution which alone will free her from serfdom and tyranny.” “A German’s Dark Picture of Russia. Letter of E. P. Horrowitz,” The New York Times , December 5, 1915. 39. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle , August 25, 1915. 40. “‘Russia’s Economic Vigor,’ S. N. Syromiatnikoff’s Letters to the Editor, October 12, November 4,” The New York Globe , October 15, November 8, 1915. See also, The Commercial Advertiser , November 8, 1915. 41. See, for example, the cartoons published by the comic weekly Life on the following dates: September 1, 24, 1914, 64: 389, 531; March 23, 1915, 65: 511; July 27, 1915, 66: 189; September 7, 1916, 68: 399; March 15, 1917, 69: 439. 42. “Russian and American Public Opinion. S. N. Syromiatnikoff’s Letter to the Editor of the Tribune, November 22, 1915,” The New York Tribune, November 24, 1915. 43. “The Soldier Jew,” The New York Times, May 27, 1915; see also The New York Sun, June 6, 1915. 44. “Russian and American Public Opinion,” The New York Tribune , November 24, 1915. 45. See, for example, Bakhmetev’s report from December 5/18, 1912, and his telegram dated December 18/31, 1912, in Rossiya i SShA. Dokumenty, 580–582. 46. Harper Barnes, Standing on a Volcano: The Life and Times of David Rowland Francis (St. Louis, 2001), 187. 47. AVPRI, f.134 (Arhiv “Voina”), op. 473, d. 42, ll. 195–196ob, 234–236. 48. Saul, War and Revolution , 32. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 49. “Mr. Syromiatnikoff’s Position,” The New York Times , January 7, 1916. 50. Quoted from: Boris Syromiatnikov, ‘Strannye’ puteshestviya i komandirovki ‘SIGMY’ , 89. 51. Rossiya i SShA. Dokumenty , 634–639, 706–707. 52. Parry, America Learns Russian , 65–71. 53. The president of The National City Bank of New York, Frank A. Vanderlip, as well as the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) in New York offered Russian-language classes for those who intended to visit Russia or to do business with Russians. Ibid., 72. 54. See reports dated October 17/30 and November 25/December 8, 1916, in AVPRI. f. Posol’stvo v Vashingtone, op. 170, d. 408, ll. 3–5ob; 7–7ob. 160 Victoria I. Zhuravleva 55. Quoted from: N. Borodin, “Russia and America before and during the War,” News of the Russian-American Rapprochement Society 3 (September 1916): 1. 56. Rossiia i SShA. Dokumenty , 620, 632. 57. AVPRI, f. Posol’stvo v Vashingtone. op. 170, d. 406, ll. 151–53. Stanley Washburn was among the Americans who considered that “Mr. Syromiatnikoff had been an absolute failure”: Saul, War and Revolution , 32, note 122. 58. Foglesong, 48–50. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 12 The American YMCA and Russian Politics Critics and Supporters of Socialism, 1900–1940

Matthew Lee Miller

The American Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) began its work with Russian workers, students, and soldiers in 1900. From the first steps of the program, YMCA leaders, known as secretaries, labored to maintain the permission and goodwill of the imperial family. The Mayak (Lighthouse) program offered a wide range of religious, social, physical, and educational opportunities for young men in St. Petersburg, but as a public institution, they were required to fulfill a wide range of government regulations and forbid open political discussions by participants. Other YMCA secretaries worked in a less public manner as they attempted to provide spiritual support to university students in St. Petersburg and Kiev, but this led to police suspicion and surveillance. Humanitarian assistance to soldiers and prisoners of war after 1914 significantly increased the visibility of the YMCA’s work. This wartime program was organized at the request of U.S. President Woodrow Wilson and required the permission of many Russian government and military officials for the activities of dozens of new YMCA staff members across Russia. Of course, the radical changes of the February and October Revolutions of 1917 sharply increased the political tensions experienced by the association. The political connections of the YMCA to the U.S. government contributed to its closure on Soviet territory by the government in October 1918. However, Y workers continued to serve among Russians in regions not yet occupied by the Red Army—and beyond the frontiers. 1 As leaders of a prominent international program of philanthropy, the work and relationships of secretaries brought them into direct contact with Emperor

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Nicholas II, Vladimir Lenin, Felix Dzerzhinsky, and Patriarch Tikhon, as well as with workers, peasants, and soldiers. YMCA secretaries were reflective writers in their reports and letters about their experiences. Some condemned the political changes, a few championed the revolution, but most expressed ambivalence as they watched chaos unfold and stretch into civil war. None were monarchists and none were communists, but the YMCA staff included secretaries holding political views from right to center to left. The February Revolution was welcomed by the majority, but most Y men responded with uncertainty to the October Revolution because they did not understand even the basics of the Bolsheviks’ approach. Eventually, the majority of secretaries expressed a negative view about the October events. 162 Matthew Lee Miller The first section of this chapter addresses the mainstream political views of Y men who did not support Marxist socialism. The two primary leaders of YMCA service among Russians were John R. Mott and Paul B. Anderson. 2 This section explores the attitudes and comments of four less well-known but highly influential participants. James Stokes (1841–1918), YMCA leader and wealthy New York banker, founded the Mayak program for young men in St. Petersburg. George Day (1882–1958) worked among Russian students in St. Petersburg and Kiev and then shifted to work among prisoners of war in 1914. Edward T. Heald (1885–1967) worked with soldiers and filled leadership roles from 1916 to 1919. Ethan T. Colton (1872–1970) participated as a YMCA representative for the American Relief Administration famine aid program during the Civil War and later provided leadership for many aspects of the Y’s program. These men attempted to understand Marxism and concluded that it was fundamentally alien to Russian culture. They did not use liberal democracy as an exclusive standard for political ideology, but they argued that Russian Marxists should respect a diversity of political opinion. The writings and experiences of these YMCA secretaries provide a valuable collection of firsthand reflections on the February and October revolutions of 1917. These records also illustrate how this organization faced a complex challenge in conducting a global program of philanthropy, which was made possible by the diplomatic support of the U.S. government. They filled very public roles as Americans during a politically volatile period of world war and revolution. A few were charged with espionage—seeking to gain classified political or military information from a foreign government. Most steered clear of any political action. However, the variety of political opinions and agendas held by YMCA representatives demonstrates that the Y was not a government tool with a program dictated by Washington. 3 The second section of this chapter explores the views of staff members Sher- wood Eddy (1871–1963), Julius Hecker (1881–1943), and Jerome Davis (1891– 1979), who emphasized the visions of Russian socialists and encouraged their American readers to consider the progress made by these radicals in bringing justice to oppressed workers and peasants. Their writings, rooted in Protestant theological liberalism, sharply criticized Orthodoxy as an obsolete and oppressive restriction on Russian society. These views were based on their own dissatisfaction with Western democracy and the traditional Protestant religion.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 This vocal minority of the YMCA’s Russian work staff was sympathetic to many aspects of the Bolsheviks’ program. They did not support the use of violence or the Soviet stance on atheism, but they seemed to envision a future peaceful, socialist Russia with a philosophy that combined Marxist and Christian aspects. James Stokes, founder of the Mayak , demonstrated little sympathy for socialism—in general, he showed no interest in Russian politics unless it hindered his plans. In 1910, rumors began to circulate that he planned to spread socialism through the Mayak , so he responded to this charge with a direct letter to the emperor. Stokes emphasized, “I am [not] a Socialist nor . . . nor would I for a moment encourage a Society where such doctrines were taught.” 4 The American YMCA and Russian Politics 163 Edward T. Heald vividly described his experience of the February Revolution and his dismay at the rise of Bolshevism. Heald’s words reflect a deep respect for both the Russian people and the American way of life. He had believed that radical changes were coming to Petrograd. On Monday, March 12, Heald wrote that his YMCA supervisor “always treated our predictions of a revolution with a smile saying that nothing of the sort would happen.” Heald then described his unexpected meeting with violence:

During the day the sound of firing became louder in our part of the city. Neither [my colleague] nor I understood what was taking place when we started over to the Narodni Dom after tea that evening to hear Shaliapin in The Roussalka. There was an atmosphere everywhere of excitement, uncertainty, and danger. Volleys and shots started at every crossing and corner. Around the Winter Palace Square people clung to sides of buildings. . . . The gloomy sombre red buildings seemed to be sitting in judgment on the country’s doom. As we neared the bridge over the Little Neva a little further on, another squad of soldiers stood facing us. When we were about fifty paces off the crowd of women and working people in front of us broke and ran, and looking ahead we saw the guns raised in our direction. . . . We decided to hear Shaliapin some other evening.

Later Heald and his coworker George Day returned to their apartment building, where a local sailor told them of the recent political events: “He gave us the astounding news that the old government was overthrown.” The news enabled them to understand the events of the day: “Not until then did we realize that we were in the midst of a great revolution that so many of our friends had talked about and dreaded.” The next day, he observed a parade on Nevsky Prospekt: “The parade itself consisted of soldiers, officers, marines, working men all marching in order, and every division hoisting the big red banners. . . . Now and then armored cars darted along with soldiers armed to the teeth. I never expect to see a more thrilling sight in all my life.” Heald was most impressed with the apparent speed of events: “The most surprising thing is the ease and suddenness with which the old order collapsed. It went down like the proverbial stack of cards.” Heald goes on to describe the first

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 YMCA club for Russian soldiers in Petrograd, which opened at the Peter and Paul Fortress. Up to six hundred soldiers attended the dedication. The program was interrupted by two delegates sent from the workers’ soviet; one was a Bolshevik, who spoke for an hour. Heald summarized his comments in this way: “Don’t listen to what these Americans say. This Y.M.C.A. is a capitalist organization. They are the tools of the rich American capitalists whose only interest is to keep the working man poor and enslaved. Don’t have anything to do with this club and these diversions.” Heald did not look to the future with optimism: “Anarchy raises her finger higher and higher. Leninism is spreading through the army and fraternizing is growing on the front. Business is going to 164 Matthew Lee Miller thunder, and the destructive forces are working faster than the constructive, the speeches of the ministers grow more pessimistic daily, and I am pessimistic over the future to say the least.” 5 George Day witnessed the February Revolution along with Heald and described his feelings with even more energy:

To have witnessed the soul-stirring scenes of the Russian Revolution during these three momentous days in Petrograd last March, is worth ten years of ordinary existence. . . . Who would not gladly give ten years of his life to have seen this noble and lovable people emerge from bondage into liberty; to have watched [the] Russian people burst thru tyranny into freedom, and snatch power from autocracy’s hands!

Day portrayed the February revolution as a work of God—with idealistic passion:

Though not a single priest of the Greek Orthodox Church . . . participated in the public ceremonies, nevertheless the Spirit of God was there. And having witnessed such scenes one finds oneself becoming a more ardent and reverent democrat, a more earnest believer in a Divine Pres- ence permeating democracy.

He then spoke of his great enthusiasm for the Provisional Government:

An encouraging feature of great significance is, of course, the fact that an effete autocracy has been supplanted by a Provisional Government which actually endeavors to execute the will of the people. The new government [is] bent on saving the country from domination by external and internal foes. 6

Shortly after his arrival in Russia, Secretary Ethan T. Colton heard Lenin speak at the All-Russian Congress of Soviets. 7 However, his presence was not a sign of sympathy for Soviet leaders. He wrote, “The Bolshe- viks are not loyal to the Russian nation, do not profess to be devoted to its welfare as a whole, and are now discriminatory in administration.”8 Later

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 he explained his views on communism in an article for the Y magazine Association Men. He drew a clear line between Lenin’s path of “hate and force” and Christ’s way of love and brotherhood.9 Colton’s most thorough response to the Soviet system is contained in his 1931 book The XYZ of Communism, which was a response to Soviet leader Nikolai Bukharin’s The ABC of Communism . For several months after the October revolution, the YMCA’s policy required it to provide educational and social services to both Red and White armies. Colton pointed out that the Soviets saw the Y’s service to anti-Bolshevik The American YMCA and Russian Politics 165 troops as anti-Communist agitation because the association staff assisted the enemy. However, he argued:

From the outset our policy toward Russia has been to serve the Russian people wherever they were accessible, without regard to political com- plexion. We lived up to that principle. In Siberia, we succored a whole train load of Bolshevik prisoners that were being conveyed across Siberia by their captors, the Czechs and White Russians, and were starving in the cars. When the Poles captured or drove over the German border for internment 50,000 Red Army soldiers, we served them also for over a year as liberally as we had any prisoners of war of any country. I canvassed this ground thoroughly once with a high Soviet official who admitted the fairness of our position. 10

Working in Siberia in the jurisdiction of the Omsk anti-Bolshevik government led to a variety of problems as well. In one letter that discusses these difficulties, Colton opened with a statement of principle: “Almost without exception our scores of workers were radically opposed to the existing [Soviet] regime, yet steadfastly adhered to the Y.M.C.A. principle established and observed throughout the world of non-interference in political affairs.” 11 Soviet presses published a wide variety of political criticism of the YMCA and its partner organizations in books and periodicals such as Antireligioznik, Bezbozhnik, and Voprosii istorii. 12 The undocumented accusation that U.S. YMCA men served as spies continues to be presented in more recent Rus- sian historical literature, such as the article on the YMCA in an encyclopedia on Russian-American relations by the noted scholar Eduard Ivanian. 13 This scholarship has influenced English-language studies on the Y as well—in two articles, Wayne Williams has argued that George Day and Edward T. Heald acted as spies for the U.S. government. In one article, Williams focuses on a letter asking for information that Day received while working at a POW camp for captured Central Power soldiers near Kiev:

Though, on the whole, it appears that the services of the secretaries were impartial and in many cases distinguished, some of the American YMCA personnel were inclined to mix their ministerial duties with what must

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 properly be termed espionage. In particular, those secretaries who were assigned to Ukraine, along the Russian Empire’s Southwestern Front, perhaps justly earned the suspicion of Bolshevik historians who charge that they were agents of American imperialism.

He then describes Day’s YMCA project and the suspicion of his work:

The first YMCA mission in Ukraine began in August, 1915, when Secre- tary John Day instituted “religious-morale” work among the German and 166 Matthew Lee Miller Austrian prisoners of war held at Darnytsia, near Kiev. Later that year, when a commission detailed from the Sixth Russian Army was investigating disturbances at the Darnytsia Camp, Day’s work came under close scrutiny. The commission seems to have been suspicious of the “modest scale” on which YMCA activities were conducted there and further investigation uncovered a rather incriminating letter from Day’s associate, John Springer, who was working in Frankfurt-am-Main.

The article contains a number of factual errors: for example, Day’s first name was not John but George. Williams presents his charge of espionage in this way:

In part, the letter read: “His Royal Highness Prince Max Baden is highly interested in your work in Russia which is of strategic importance. Any information which you can send will be highly appreciated especially that which is received from Ukr[aine].” Besides the charges which this obviously damning letter brought on, Day was also accused of setting up meetings between high ranking German and Austrian officers and members of the Czar’s court purported to have Germanophile views. Day was, of course, immediately recalled and the matter apparently hushed up. 14

However, Day was not “immediately recalled”—he continued his work with POWs in Petrograd and witnessed the February Revolution, as described earlier. Williams does not fully identify Prince Max, who was the patron of the YMCA’s work with prisoners in Germany ;15 this “obviously damning” letter was apparently a careless request from someone involved in similar work with POWs. Williams argues that Heald’s information gathering was equivalent to espionage: “Heald’s reports to his superiors in Moscow . . . contain information on and analysis of political and military affairs seemingly unrelated to Y.M.C.A. activities.” The author’s conclusions show a lack of attention to the broader context of the YMCA’s work. The ability of the Y to function in any country was dictated by the political situation. Therefore, it was very common for secretaries to gather strategic information in order to make judgments about personnel, facilities, and funding. Williams belittles George F. Kennan’s published analysis of this situation as “curiously inadequate,” 16 but Williams himself does not rely on other sources for information on the YMCA—such as the association’s own

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 historical archives. Receiving one request for information, in the context of all the other available information on Day, does not seem to warrant Williams’s description of “espionage.” Sending documents to the State Department, when he sent the same documents to the YMCA office, does not seem to earn this for Heald, either. However, both circumstances illustrated the growing tendency of the U.S. government to consider representatives of the Red Cross, the YMCA, and other philanthropic agencies to be their unofficial representatives. Understanding why the YMCA was serving prisoners of war provides background information for sorting out these charges of espionage. During World War I, millions of soldiers were taken captive, and the belligerent The American YMCA and Russian Politics 167 nations did not have the resources available to provide the services required by international agreements. Eventually, the U.S. government agreed to provide support, but American embassies in Europe lacked the personnel, infrastructure, and experience required to carry out this large-scale program. President Woodrow Wilson soon realized that nongovernmental organizations must participate in the program if the United States was to fulfill its international agreements. The American YMCA responded to the request of the government to provide physical, mental, and spiritual assistance for war prisoners—under the direction of the World’s Alliance of YMCAs. The new War Prisoners Aid program promised to assist POWs of any nationality or religious belief. John R. Mott and other YMCA leaders raised millions of dollars and recruited secretaries to address the needs. The American YMCA and the U.S. government became increasingly interdependent during the war: each side relied on the other to fulfill goals. In June 1917, the United States recognized the Provisional Government. This led to the formation of a mission to Russia from the U.S. government, led by former Senator Elihu Root, which included Mott. On this trip, the Y leader secured permission to conduct welfare work with Russian troops and began to recruit workers after his return to the United States. Soon after the October Revolution, YMCA work with Russian soldiers ended at the fronts. However, secretaries continued working during the Civil War period with White armies and Allied troops in several regions of Russia. This complex situation led to many political difficulties and multiple accusations against the YMCA—critics from all sides denounced the Y for a lack of neutrality. Soviets suspected that secretaries were meddling with Allied supporters, but they accepted material aid for Russians returning from POW camps. Non-Bolsheviks often assumed that they were Marxist sympathizers. The Bolsheviks saw the Y as a tool of Washington; the organization had been observed assisting opponents of the Soviets—especially in northern European Russia and Siberia. In Murmansk, a YMCA secretary served temporarily and informally as U.S. consul—which appeared very suspicious. The Y faced a dilemma: it attempted to support the Allied cause and also support any troops that needed assistance. A careful evaluation of available documents suggests that the motivations of the YMCA’s work with Russians were primarily humanitarian, secondarily religious, and occasionally political. 17

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Documents in the YMCA archives and the State Archive of the Russian Fed- eration (GARF) provide clarification on Secretary George Day and his political status in Kiev. Day wrote to YMCA leader John R. Mott in February 1914 that he was considering applying for the part-time position of American vice-consul; the consul was working in Odessa and needed someone to work two hours a day in Kiev. He asked Mott if he should take this position: “The duties are scarcely heavy enough to warrant a man giving his whole time to it. My only reason for considering the position, should it be offered to me, is the protection and standing it would give me in government circles here.” 18 Apparently, Day did not assume these responsibilities and had limited contact with the U.S. government. 168 Matthew Lee Miller A Russian police report from 1916 contains detailed information on Day in the context of the YMCA’s work with war prisoners in Russia. After describing the general approach of war prisoner work, the report included a warning: “our opponents may use individual members of this organization for the goals of espionage or propaganda to the harm of our military interests.” The report gave basic information on a number of YMCA workers, including George Day, and described the letter discussed in the Williams articles. This report concludes, “At the current time the Counter-Intelligence Department of the Headquarters of the Kiev Military District is conducting secret observation of Day.” 19 In a YMCA annual report, Day described the context of the letter:

An indiscreet and compromising letter addressed to me in Russia by an Association secretary, James Sprunger, personally unknown to me, who at the time of writing (February 1916) was working in the prison camps of Germany, not only cast a great deal of suspicion on me, involving my family and myself in varied unpleasant nerve-wracking experiences with the Russian police and customs’ officials, but threw a shadow of suspicion upon . . . the whole War Prisoners’ Aid Work which time alone finally dispelled. The letter, innocently enough intended, aroused the suspicions of the Petrograd censor, as well it might.

Day was questioned by Kiev military police about the letter and signed a written statement of his explanation. He continued to serve at the Kiev military hospital and the prisoner of war camp. His room was again searched one night from 1:30am to 8:00am. The police and Day signed a summary statement, which concluded that nothing incriminating was found. However, the police took away five suitcases of letters, books, and other documents for further review. After additional questionings:

I was finally given back all of my belongings, except the permission to work either at Darnitza [POW camp] or at the hospital. . . . Last of all my passport was returned and I was granted my request to go to Petrograd.” He added, “It was only by the grace of God and the good nature of the Rus- sians that [we] were allowed to remain and continue to work in Russia.20

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 A printed interview transcript of Paul B. Anderson, held in the YMCA archives, provides additional insight into the questions raised by Williams. Anderson was asked “to what degree did the War Prisoners’ Aid have any relationship with American interests?” He replied:

YMCA War Prisoners’ Aid was conducted under authority of permission granted by the Tsarist Russian Foreign Minister and General Staff and not as an agency of the U.S. Embassy. . . . What I don’t know is the extent to which the Embassy looked upon the YMCA as an effective agent in any respect. The American YMCA and Russian Politics 169 Anderson commented on Day’s case:

George was thrown out because of a letter that he received. He was down in Kiev and somebody wrote him a letter from outside with some questions, and the answers which he gave Russian tsarist officials considered to be offensive. . . . George did have to go to the Department and make a statement, but this was during the war.

He added another comment that is significant in light of Williams’s view of Heald’s information gathering:

In some countries the YMCA man has been very close to government and sometimes even an advisor, an unofficial advisor. This has been the situation in several countries . . . the YMCA secretary was of a style which grasped the whole situation—political, economic, social, religious.

Anderson was asked: “[T]o what extent [did you have] to make clear to the American Consul . . . that you were not a governmental agency, that they could not use you?” Anderson replied: “I think that they were short-handed. You see, they may have had a spy system, I do not know. The YMCA was in scattered positions, but government personnel did not move around. We were very mobile.” 21 In conclusion, the records reviewed by the author suggest that neither Day nor Heald served as spies for the U.S. government. There was at least one example of a former YMCA secretary who did serve as a spy in Russia—Paul Dukes. Evidence, however, suggests that his career in intelligence did not coincide with his Y service. Dukes worked for the British Foreign Office before serving briefly with the American YMCA in Samara after the revolution. He later returned to Russia under the authority of the Foreign Office. He described his career in a 1921 Atlantic Monthly article— this may have raised suspicions among Soviet leaders and historians of additional spies connected to the Y. 22 The YMCA’s stated goal of neutrally serving all parties in Russia was a difficult task. This tension was increased after October 1917 when representatives of the U.S. consular service attempted to recruit helpers from within the Y staff. On December 9, 1917, Maddin Summers sent a “Memorandum Addressed to the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Members of the Young Men’s Christian Association by the American Consul General in Moscow.” 23 The letter encouraged the YMCA staff to consider how they could support the “publicity section” work of the American government in Russia after the revolution. Colton, soon after arriving in Russia, resisted such a request. He explained, “Both the Consulate and the Ambassador sustained me absolutely in the insistence that our organization is to be kept wholly clear from performing any such office.” 24 In May 1920, the International Committee of the YMCA established a policy on political activity for secretaries working abroad. Secretaries were required to maintain neutrality and avoid political activities on behalf of the U.S. government or the government of the host country. 25 170 Matthew Lee Miller Three key secretaries for the YMCA’s Russian work were Paul B. Ander- son, Ethan Colton, and Donald Lowrie. Their program choices and writings placed special emphasis on the significance of Orthodox Christianity as an indispensable element of Russian national identity and encouraged Protestant and Catholic readers in the United States to recognize the unique historical role of this confession. They challenged their coworkers and readers not to dismiss Orthodoxy due to perceived differences from western Christian- ity. Their relationships with Russian Orthodox intellectuals such as Nikolai Berdyaev, Sergei Bulgakov, and Georges Florovsky made a deep impression on their understandings of Russia and their perspectives on the country’s future. Also, the books and articles written by these three men attempt to address Marxism and conclude that it is fundamentally alien to Russian culture. These three leaders were very influential within the YMCA’s Russian program and served as champions of Orthodoxy. However, as noted in the introduction, three YMCA secretaries, Sherwood Eddy, Julius Hecker, and Jerome Davis, championed their own vision of socialism rather than a revived Orthodoxy for the future of Russia. In the early twentieth century, a number of YMCA leaders began to accept the claims of theological modernism, or liberalism, which gained wide acceptance among Protestants during this time. Popular writers and speakers such as Harry Emer- son Fosdick and Walter Rauschenbusch taught that the Christian faith must accommodate itself to the norms of modern scientific culture. They stressed that believers must follow the ethical teachings of Jesus and strive for the continuing improvement of society. Leading proponents of this theology also questioned the historical reliability of the Bible, the deity of Jesus Christ, and the necessity of strict doctrinal definitions. Sherwood Eddy eventually emerged as a YMCA spokesman for Protestant modernism; Julius Hecker and Jerome Davis followed this path as well. The Russian work of the YMCA was influenced by modernism, but the influence was less intense than in other regions of association service. In this context, Paul B. Anderson, Ethan Colton, and Donald Lowrie did not promote Protestant liberalism; they encouraged the support of Orthodox leaders, especially those who were open to developing partnerships with Protestants. However, the vocal minority of Eddy, Hecker, and Davis were convinced that some form of socialism was the preferred future for Russia.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 As a YMCA staff member, Sherwood Eddy attempted to apply the Christian message to social and political questions in new ways. 26 Eddy was educated at Yale University, which introduced him to biological evolution and recent theories of biblical criticism. 27 Fifteen years of YMCA work in India exposed Eddy to new philosophies and religions. He attempted to serve the people he met in India with humility and practical aid, hoping to improve their living conditions: Eddy’s work was an example of optimistic American philanthropy and modernist Protestant theology. However, his philosophy of service, approach to theology, and political convictions were fundamentally changed by the crisis experience of World War I. 28 Eddy traveled fifteen times to Russia before and The American YMCA and Russian Politics 171 after the war; his messages demonstrated a clear shift in his thinking. In 1910 and 1912, his lectures to students emphasized a traditional view of God and the necessity of personal repentance from sin. 29 In his postwar trips (1923, 1926, and annually from 1929 through 1939), he emphasized his opposition to atheism and promoted the importance of religion but with very few doctrinal specif- ics. He presented a faith that could be defined in an unlimited number of ways as long as it contributed to the spread of justice and morality. In Eddy’s mind, his theological transition from traditional Protestantism to moderate liberalism to a more radical modernism was determined by new scientific discoveries: “Modern science constitutes a new challenge to faith. Let us consider this challenge in the light of the brilliant achievements of the new science, its history, its relation to religion, and the specific problems presented by evolution, relativity and the new conception of matter.” 30 This direction led him to great flexibility in questions of faith: “God is doubtless absolute, but my life is everywhere relative and dependent and I have and need no absolute access to him. In the whole universe all is open. I find nothing closed, final, or perfect–neither the Bible, the Church, human reason, nor anything in the whole evolving universe.” 31 By the 1920s, Eddy became disenchanted with capitalism and realized that a large percentage of the YMCA’s support was provided by U.S. industrialists. He sensed that he was being inconsistent by working with an organization that he believed was being supported and directed by capitalists; however, he did not retire from the YMCA until 1931. Eddy’s sympathy for Lenin and Stalin was presented in a number of his works, including The Challenge of Russia (1931), Russia Today: What Can We Learn From It? (1934), A Pilgrimage of Ideas: Or, The Re-education of Sherwood Eddy (1934), and Eighty Adventurous Years: An Autobiography (1955). In Russia Today, he wrote that he was inspired by many aspects of the Soviet experiment. He wrote, “Without . . . holding up Soviet Russia as a model in any regard, we may find it stimulating and suggestive in certain matters such as the following: its ideal of social justice and of social planning; [and] its aim of a classless society which supersedes race and color prejudice.” 32 In A Pilgrimage of Ideas , Eddy explained his attraction to socialism, his opposition to capitalism, and his strategy for activism. He wrote, “Under the conviction that religion must be both personal and social, I worked out at that time the following program of action for myself: Basic economic justice. . . . Racial brotherhood. . . . Clean 33

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 politics. . . . Interpersonal Cooperation to make peace and stop war.” He did not endorse Soviet atheism, but he was not entirely unsympathetic to repression of the former state church: “The Greek Orthodox Church had become bound up with all the evils of czarism, and religion often seemed a caricature or an opiate to lull the people to sleep in the midst of human suffering.” 34 Eddy organized frequent visits to Soviet Russia with a program known as the “American Seminar.” He took many U.S. travel groups to the USSR to promote international understanding. In 1926, he arranged the first trip of the seminar, which included twenty-four businessmen, educators, religious leaders, social workers, and others. Jerome Davis participated and interviewed Stalin on 172 Matthew Lee Miller this trip; the group met with a number of Soviet officials. During this trip, Eddy participated in a public debate with two leading Soviet promoters of atheism; Hecker spoke at this debate alongside Eddy. 35 Toward the end of his career, Eddy maintained his socialist convictions, but he did express his disappointment in the path of the USSR; he wrote: “I saw the whole Soviet Union sink to the level of a slave state, where all, consciously or unconsciously, are prisoners.” 36 Sophie Koulomzin was a longtime Russian participant in YMCA activities. In 1926, she attended a lecture in the United States by Sherwood Eddy on Russia. She was astounded by his exuberant praise of the Communists and condemnation of the Orthodox Church. After his lecture, she spoke with him for an hour and explained why she thought his comments were unfair. She reported his reply: “I have no interest in Russia, I am interested in saving America, for I believe it is beginning to commit the same mistakes the czarist regime committed in Russia. I am using my visit to Russia as a weapon to this end—to awaken, to sting the American public to see its faults.” 37 Julius Hecker worked for the YMCA from 1916 to 1921. He was born in St. Petersburg to parents with German citizenship; Russian was his first language. He emigrated with his family to the United States in 1902. He completed a PhD at Columbia University and worked for the Board of Foreign Missions of the Methodist Episcopal Church among Russians in New York City. During World War I, he worked with the YMCA at Russian prisoner of war camps in Austria-Hungary and initiated a Russian-language publishing program. With this program, Hecker and his assistants began to produce a variety of books on history, anthropology, science, and religion. 38 However, Hecker was never able to personally distribute any books; in 1920, John R. Mott expelled him from leadership of this program because he disagreed with Hecker’s policy of collaborating with Russian socialists. This program printed only six books, including one by Harry Emerson Fosdick, the American advocate for modernist theology. 39 Many émigré Orthodox readers sharply criticized the view- points expressed in these books. 40 In 1921, after his resignation from the YMCA, he moved to Soviet Russia with his family and worked on educational projects under the supervision of the Commissariat of Enlightenment. Hecker became a counselor and promoter for the Living Church, a movement for radical change within Orthodoxy after the revolution. YMCA leader Ethan Colton described Hecker’s efforts with a

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 mixture of sympathy and disappointment:

He is staking himself, his family, and all he possesses materially on the adventure which for him is a spiritual one. He wants the social program of the Government to succeed, because he believes it has the same goal as Christianity, and therefore that the Church should be in alignment with the Government. 41

Hecker supported many of the Bolsheviks’ ideals but not their atheism. In the 1930s, he was exiled to Siberia, where he died in 1943. 42 The American YMCA and Russian Politics 173 Hecker attacked Orthodoxy in Religion and Communism: A Study of Religion and Atheism in Soviet Russia (1933). He was an engaging writer and an out- spoken opponent of traditional Orthodoxy, which he saw as devoid of moral power and creative thinking. In this book, he claimed that “Religion had little to do with shaping the moral code and practices of the Russian people.” 43 He showed little awareness and even less appreciation for the intellectual ferment of the prerevolutionary period: “There exists some scholarship to perpetuate the traditional theology and guard against heretics who might undermine the Orthodox faith, but for original thinking there is neither need nor place in the Orthodox Church.” 44 In a 1924 contribution to the journal Methodist Review, he barely disguised his glee over the Soviet attack on the church:

From the American point of view unquestionably it will be thought that the church hierarchy and clergy is treated unfairly. However, in passing this judgment we must not forget that the Russian Church hierarchy is reaping its own harvest. When the Church was the power behind the throne it showed no mercy to religious dissenters and to revolutionists. Now the tables have turned and what is surprising is not that the Church is discriminated against by the revolutionary Government but that it is discriminated against so little. . . . My personal conviction is that the religion of the future of Russia will be a synthesis of the personal element emphasized in the Gospels with the social element emphasized by communism. 45

In 1922, he wrote his impressions of the American Relief Administration’s famine relief work in Soviet Russia. He described in detail the astounding tragedy and agony of the widespread famine and called for more aid. He closed,

Fear not to deal with the Soviet Government. It is the only Government Russia has or could have for some time to come. It is firmly established and knows its mind. Most of its leaders are strong, energetic men and whether one likes their ideas or not, they are sincere and honest. This impression everyone gets who stays long enough in the country, no matter how prejudiced he was against the Soviets and the Communists. 46

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 In other words, he assumed any honest Russian would not object to the Bolsheviks—or their opposition to Orthodoxy. Jerome Davis presented his views in A Life Adventure for Peace, An Auto- biography (1967). 47 In 1916, he began working with POWs in Russia. He was in Russia during the revolution and briefly became the director of all YMCA work in the country; he left the YMCA in 1918. During his time with the YMCA, Davis quickly decided that the Orthodox Church was simply a socially irrelevant participant in “the tsar’s tyranny.” 48 He continued his work in Russia with the American Relief Administration to provide aid during the famine of the 1920s. He later founded and directed the organization 174 Matthew Lee Miller Promoting Enduring Peace, which provided educational materials and trips to foreign countries. During the revolution, he met with Vladimir Lenin; in 1926, he was the first U.S. correspondent to conduct an interview with Joseph Stalin. Years later, he met with Nikita Khrushchev for two hours. Throughout his life, he was associated with a number of radical and left-wing causes. He also wrote Behind Soviet Power and other books on peace and labor issues. 49 After returning to the United States, he attended graduate school at Columbia University and began teaching at Dartmouth College. Shortly thereafter, Sherwood Eddy invited Davis to join his travel group to Europe in the summer of 1921. Davis described the atmosphere in Moscow as optimistic: “The people were very poorly dressed, but when I talked with them they seemed confident that the Bolshevik regime would bring about better conditions. I did not meet a single Russian in Moscow who expressed any hostility to the revolutionary government.” 50 Later in life, in 1970, he continued to hold an enthusiastically positive impression of Lenin. Davis concluded, “What are the lessons that I can learn for my own life from that of Lenin? Do I have his dedication? . . . Is my life devoted to helping the masses of the world secure justice and happiness?” 51 In conclusion, the most influential leaders of the YMCA Russian program were strongly influenced by their close relationships with Orthodox leaders and did not support Marxist socialist ideals. However, Sherwood Eddy, Julius Hecker, and Jerome Davis were not positively impressed by the Orthodox but were deeply influenced by theological liberalism and political socialism. Their views did not determine the long-term direction of the Russian service, but these three men played a significant role in the clarification of the YMCA’s values as they promoted a contrasting alternative vision. 52

Notes 1. Research for this chapter was presented at national conventions of the Associa- tion for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies (ASEEES) in New Orleans, Louisiana, on November 15, 2012, and Boston, Massachusetts on November 22, 2013. The author thanks his fellow Russian-American studies panel members for their assistance and suggestions. This chapter focuses on the political ideology and strategies of YMCA staff members. The author’s monograph The American YMCA and Russian Culture: The Preservation and Expansion of Orthodox Christian- ity, 1900–1940 was published by Lexington Books (Lanham, MD) in 2012. This Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 book analyzes the wide-ranging philanthropic activities of the Y and focuses special attention on the influence of these ventures in the field of religion. 2. Matthew Lee Miller, The American YMCA and Russian Culture: The Preserva- tion and Expansion of Orthodox Christianity, 1900–1940 (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2012), 43–52. 3. This chapter builds on a foundational research article on this topic: Donald E. Davis and Eugene P. Trani, “The American YMCA and the Russian Revolution,” Slavic Review 33, 4 (September 1974): 469–491. Three comprehensive volumes on Russian-American relations provide an introduction to the themes of this chapter; these books are written by Norman E. Saul and published by the University Press of Kansas (Lawrence): Concord and Conflict: The United States and Russia, The American YMCA and Russian Politics 175 1867–1914 (1996); War and Revolution: The United States and Russia, 1914–1921 (2001); and Friends or Foes? The United States and Soviet Russia, 1921–1941 (2006). See also David S. Foglesong, The American Mission and the “Evil Empire:” The Crusade for a “Free Russia” since 1881 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2007) for additional analysis and bibliography. 4. Letter from James Stokes to “Your Highness” [Emperor Nikolai II], [1910]. Cor- respondence November-December 1910. James Stokes Society including St. Petersburg, Kautz Family YMCA Archives, University of Minnesota Libraries, Minneapolis (hereafter KFYA). 5. Warren B. Walsh, ed., “Documents: Petrograd, March–July, 1917: The Letters of Edward T. Heald,” The American Slavic and East European Review 6, 16–17 (May 1947): 116–117, 122–124, 129, 133, 142, 146–147. For additional letters, see Edward T. Heald, Witness to Revolution: Letters from Russia, 1916–1919 (Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 1972). 6. George M. Day, “Annual Report 1917. Beginning October 1st, 1916 until Sep- tember 30th, 1917,” Petrograd, Russia, 1–3, 10. Correspondence and Reports, 1917. Russian Work Restricted, Correspondence and Reports, 1903–1917, KFYA. 7. Ethan T. Colton, Sr., “With the Y.M.C.A. in Revolutionary Russia,” The Russian Review 14, 2 (April 1955): 131. 8. E. T. Colton, “Confidential Report on the Russian Political Situation to Dr. John R. Mott,” March 8, 1919, 1–2. YMCA Relationships (1920–25): 1. Russian Church, KFYA. 9. E. T. Colton, “The Appeal to Religion,” Association Men (December 1919): 215. 10. Letter from E. T. Colton to F. W. Ramsey, July 16, 1926, 2. Russia—Speeches and Reports, Germany—Articles. Russia, Colton E. T., Reports, Addresses, and Papers, 2 volumes, KFYA. 11. Letter from E. T. Colton to Boris Bakhmatieff of the Russian Embassy in Wash- ington, D.C., October 31, 1919, 2–4. Correspondence, Russian Work, Restricted, Ethan T. Colton Collection, KFYA. 12. Frank Grant, Religiia na sluzhbe amerikanskogo kapitala (Moscow: Bezbozhnik, 1928), 3, 9; M. Sheinman, “Bog—vernyi sluga kapitala,” Bezbozhnik , March 1926, number 6, 6–7; V. N. Koloskov, “Iz istorii ideologicheskoi bor’by pervykh let Sovetskoi vlasti,” Voprosy filosofii 11 (November 1964): 152; M. Sheinman, “Tserkov’ i mezh- dunarodnoe rabochee dvizhenie,” Antireligioznik 2 (February 1926): 55; F. F., “Anti- khristianskoe dvizhenie v kitae,” Antireligioznik 1 (January 1926): 57–59; Boris Kandidov, “Interventsiia na dal’nem vostoke i rol’ sektanstva (1918–1921 gg.),” Bezbozhnik 13–14 (July 30, 1932): 8–9; S. Grigortsevich, “Iz istorii amerikanskoi agressii na russkom dal’nem vostoke (1920–1922),” Voprosy istorii 8 (August 1951): 59–79; G. V. Vorontsov, “Tserkovno-emigrantskaia fal’sifikatsiia religioznogo voprosa v SSSR,” Voprosy nauchnogo ateisma 10 (1970): 372–394. 13. “Assotsiatsiia khristianskoi molodezhi ameriki,” in Entsiklopediia rossiisko- amerikanskikh otnoshenii xviii-xx veka , ed. E. A. Ivanian (Moscow: Mezhdunarod- nye otnosheniia, 2001), 56–57. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 14. Wayne Williams, “Ministry and Espionage: The YMCA in Ukraine, 1915–1918,” The Ukrainian Quarterly 32 (1976): 152–153. 15. Kenneth Andrew Steuer, Pursuit of an ‘Unparalleled Opportunity’: The American Young Men’s Christian Association and Prisoner-of-War Diplomacy among the Central Power Nations during World War I, 1914–1923, PhD dissertation (University of Minnesota, 1997), 154, 296. 16. Wayne Williams, “The Y.M.C.A., American Diplomacy and the Ukrainian Republic,” New Review 12, 4 (1972): 20, 24, 27, note 23. 17. See Kenneth Steuer, Pursuit of an “Unparalleled Opportunity”: The American YMCA and Prisoner-of-War Diplomacy among the Central Power Nations during World War I, 1914–1923 (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009) and Jennifer A. Polk, 176 Matthew Lee Miller Constructive Efforts: The American Red Cross and YMCA in Revolutionary and Civil War Russia, 1917–1924 , PhD dissertation (University of Toronto, 2012). 18. Letter from George M. Day to John R. Mott, February 23, 1914, 3–5. Correspon- dence and Reports 1913–1914, Russian Work Restricted, Correspondence and Reports, 1903–1917. KFYA. 19. Police report dated August 22, 1916, Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Rossiiskoi Feder- atsii (State Archive of the Russian Federation, GARF), Moscow, f. 102 OO, o. 1916, d. 266, l. 81, 82, 82 reverse, 83, 83 reverse, 84, 84 reverse, 85, 85 reverse, 86. 20. George M. Day, “Annual Report of G. M. Day. Section II,” 1–3. Correspondence and Reports 1917, Russian Work Restricted, Correspondence and Reports, 1903– 1917. KFYA. 21. D. E. Davis, “YMCA Russian Work: An Interview with Dr. Paul B. Anderson, September 9, 1971,” 17–18, 32–33, 47, 51. Interview with Paul B. Anderson, Rus- sian Work, Restricted, General, Personal Accounts, KFYA. 22. Paul Dukes, “The Secret Door,” The Atlantic Monthly 128 (July 1921): 1–13. 23. Maddin Summers, “Memorandum Addressed to the Members of the Young Men’s Christian Association by the American Consul General in Moscow,” December 9, 1917, 1–4. Correspondence and Reports 1917, Russian Work Restricted, Corre- spondence and Reports, 1903–1917, KFYA. 24. Letter from E. T. Colton to C. V. Hibbard, May 9, 1918, 5. Correspondence and Reports 1918, Russian Work Restricted, Correspondence and Reports, 1918– 1921, KFYA. 25. “The Policy of the International Committee of Young Men’s Christian Associa- tions Regarding the political activities of its overseas representatives,” May 13, 1920. Correspondence and Reports, 1920, Russian Work Restricted, Correspon- dence and Reports, 1918–1921, KFYA. 26. Deane W. Ferm, Sherwood Eddy: Evangelist and YMCA Secretary , PhD dissertation (Yale University, 1954), “A Summary,” [no page number]. See also Rick L. Nutt, The Whole Gospel for the Whole World: Sherwood Eddy and the American Protestant Mission (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1997). 27. Sherwood Eddy, Eighty Adventurous Years: An Autobiography (New York: Harper, 1955), 216. 28. Sherwood Eddy, A Pilgrimage of Ideas: or, The Re-education of Sherwood Eddy (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1934), 7, 16. 29. Ferm, 132. 30. Sherwood Eddy, New Challenges to Faith: What Shall I Believe in the Light of Psychol- ogy and the New Science (New York: George H. Doran, 1926), 13. 31. Eddy, Eighty, 220, 227–228. 32. Sherwood Eddy, Russia Today: What Can We Learn From It? (New York: Farrar & Rinehart, 1934), xiii. 33. Eddy, A Pilgrimage of Ideas , 65–66. 34. Ibid., 314. 35. Eddy, Eighty , 135, 139–141. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 36. Ibid., 144. 37. Sophie Koulomzin, Many Worlds: A Russian Life (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1980), 129. 38. Paul B. Anderson, “No East or West: The Memoirs of Paul B. Anderson,” ed. Donald E. Davis, unpublished draft, 91. 39. Ibid., 91, 104. 40. Ethan T. Colton, Forty Years with Russians (New York: Association Press, 1940), 132. 41. E. T. Colton, “The Religious Situation in Russia,” November 1, 1923, 8–9. The Religious Situation in Russia, Russian Work, Restricted, Pamphlets, KFYA. 42. Patrick Ph. Streiff, Methodism in Europe: 19th and 20th Century (Tallinn, Estonia: Baltic Methodist Theological Seminary, 2003), 187. The American YMCA and Russian Politics 177 43. Julius F. Hecker, Religion and Communism: A Study of Religion and Atheism in Soviet Russia (London: Chapman and Hall, 1933), 33. 44. Ibid., 29. 45. Julius F. Hecker, “The Russian Church under the Soviets,” Methodist Review 107, 4 (July 1924): 554–555. 46. J. F. Hecker, “In the Wake of Death and Horror: A Trip across Starving Russia, December 22 to January 10, 1922,” 8. Julius Hecker, 1915–1924, Russian Work, Restricted, Correspondence and Reports, 1922–44, KFYA. 47. Jerome Davis, A Life Adventure for Peace, An Autobiography (New York: Citadel, 1967). 48. Ibid., 25. 49. Jerome Davis, Behind Soviet Power: Stalin and the Russians (New York: The Readers’ Press, 1946). 50. Davis, Life Adventure, 64. 51. Jerome Davis, “The Lessons to be Learned from Lenin,” in Lenin’s Impact on the United States, ed. Daniel Mason and Jessica Smith (New York: NWR Publications, 1970), 95. 52. The YMCA’s Russian activity continues to receive scholarly attention. For example, Jennifer A. Polk at the University of Toronto completed a 2012 PhD dissertation with the title Constructive Efforts: The American Red Cross and YMCA in Revolutionary and Civil War Russia, 1917–1924 . Polk has completed a valuable and detailed study of this period. Also, Christopher Stroop presented an insightful paper, “Nikolai Berdiaev and the YMCA: A Case Study in the Influence of Berdiaev on Western Christian Anti-Communism,” at an international interdis- ciplinary symposium, “The Varieties of Russian Modernity: Rethinking Religion, Secularism, and the Influence of Russia in the Modern World,” at the Russian Presidential Academy of National Economy and Public Administration, Moscow, Russia, June 7–9, 2013. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 13 Cyril Briggs and The Crusader Black Engagement with Soviet Russia

Kathleen S. Macfie

The twentieth century launched black America on a difficult and crucial journey: the quest to establish an identity and to gain a stake in determining the future. It is not surprising, then, that much of African-American writing of the early twentieth century focused on means and mechanisms to reach this goal of becoming fully human. Perhaps an adequate summation of the crisis comes from W.E.B. DuBois, who addressed the current state of the black community and all of the unfinished business of the Civil War in his 1903 volume, The Souls of Black Folk . DuBois opens the volume with two essays that attempt to explain what exactly emancipation means for black America. Recognizing that the task facing the first black generation after emancipation was vast and not merely political, DuBois defined the magnitude of the crisis as one that would loom above an entire century. “The problem of the Twentieth Century is the problem of the color line.” 1 The search for black identity took place in a time of great upheaval and a landscape that was shifting worldwide. The First World War and the Rus- sian Revolution called into question all earlier modes for the organization of people and brought forth a debate on colonial oversight of the same. While these events rebuked all mechanisms of past political organization and social contract, this tumult of ideas and events also spurred black nationalism and paid black Americans a dividend of rhetorical ammunition. Where there is struggle, a forum for debate generally emerges. As the Civil War had spurred growth in American letters, emancipation inspired a new generation of black journalism. The early years of the twentieth century in the United States wit-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 nessed a surge in the growth of the black press. Religious organizations, fra- ternal orders, and political associations of every stripe founded newspapers. Black publications grew from one, Freedom’s Journal , launched in 1827, to nearly thirty in the 1880s. By the early 1920s, some one hundred new black newspapers were in press, with black newspapers found in nearly every state. 2 Black journalism documented the search for a voice, a political path, and a center that would ground African-Americans through the twentieth century. The names of these publications clearly attest to their calling: The Guardian , The Crusader, Crisis, The Defender. The black press formed a crucible in which the black intellectual was formed. Visions of ethnic nationalism, internationalism, and transnationalism swirled within the rhetoric of this volatile period. Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 179 As the black intellectual body grew, world events drew the attention of key figures to the larger intersection of race, power, and politics. That every people should be free to determine their own polity rang through President Woodrow Wilson’s addresses, from his “Peace without Victory” speech in early 1917 to his “Fourteen Points” plan in January of 1918 and his “Self-Determination” address in February of the same year. The rhetoric of the emerging Soviet State, too, proclaimed the right to self-determination, beginning with the First Constituent Assembly on January 18, 1918. These were a powerful combination for black Americans one generation removed from emancipation and stirred to forge a path forward. Into this dynamic landscape, the great influx of blacks of the Great Migration joined blacks from the West Indies and brought together a critical mass in northern industrial centers. Black radicalization was ignited. While it is a great leap to equate the local radicalization of one newspaper editor to the broader black international revolutionary spirit, the personal evolution of Cyril Briggs, whose body of work traces the arc of the introduction of Communism into black American culture, provides an illustration of the intersection of world events with national development. Because we can map Briggs’ development through his editorial work, his personal radicalization forms a template for the examination the radicalization of black America. An investigation of Briggs’ work situates his magazine, The Crusader , as a critical publication that exemplified all of the competing strains of the debate and reestablishes Briggs as an important intellectual force in the radicalization of black America. Cyril Briggs’ editorials, essays, and letters provide an extended and detailed chronology of the engagement of American blacks with Soviet Russia and offer numerous points for the examination of the initiation of black Communism. Within Briggs’ work, one sees that the search for black nationhood and the impulse toward internationalism are not mutually exclusive. The catalysts for the engagement of black Americans and Soviet Communism are found within a search for the best path forward to black nationhood. Ignited by American policy in World War I and the Russian Revolution in 1917 and fueled by the creation of the American Communist Party in 1919, these years leading to the early 1920s afford a window through which black-Soviet exchange can be studied. Throughout the 1920s, a variety of journalistic voices reflect a wide range of strategies aimed at changing the racial picture for African-Americans. The

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 work of this group of black journalists reflects the “new spirit of the masses” about which Alain Locke wrote in his 1925 essay “The New Negro,” a spirit that infused the Harlem Renaissance. Many within this group found the newly established Soviet Union and the American Communist Party to hold great appeal. Each of these new “births” promised something: recognition, valida- tion, and a cultural grounding so desired by African-American intellectuals. Cyril Briggs began his work as an editor in New York City in 1914. His editorials from 1917 and those from the pages of The Crusader magazine, of which he was the editor from 1918–1921, call out the disparity between U.S. policies abroad and the practiced policy at home, establish his own radicalization, and document the nascent engagement of the black intellectual community with 180 Kathleen S. Macfie Communism into the black intellectual community, a shifting trajectory that moves between the spheres of black nationalism and an internationalist class consciousness. The Amsterdam News provides Briggs with the first forum to make an impression in the Negro Press. 3 In a two-part editorial in the Amsterdam News , September 5 and 19, 1917, entitled “‘Security of Life’ for Poles and Serbs— Why Not Colored Americans?” Briggs identified the disturbing hypocrisy of fighting to secure rights for others abroad while such a large population at home remained disenfranchised. The call for “self-determination” for those under siege in Europe resonated with black Americans’ newly heightened racial awareness and desire for self-assertion. These editorials came just days after newspapers published a reply from President Woodrow Wilson to Pope Benedict XV. Robert A. Hill, in an essay on Briggs and The Crusader , provides some context for Briggs’ engagement with the president’s rhetoric. Hill summarized the president’s response to the papal appeal and Briggs’ employment of Wilson’s words in his editorials:

In his reply to the Pontiff, Wilson had affirmed that “peace should rest upon the rights of peoples, not the rights of governments,—the rights of peoples great or small, weak or powerful,—their equal right to freedom and security and self-government and to a participation upon fair terms in the economic opportunities of the world.”

The following was the bleak picture that Briggs offered readers of the New York black weekly:

Considering that the more we are outnumbered, the weaker we will get, and the weaker we get the less respect, justice or opportunity we will obtain, is it not time to consider a separate political existence? As one- tenth of the population, backed with many generations of unrequited toil and half a century of contribution, as free men, to American prosperity, we can with reason and justice demand our portion for purposes of self- government and the pursuit of happiness, one-tenth of the territory of continental United States. 4

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Briggs believed himself to be:

[T]he first to raise the question [of self-determination]. . . . If the U.S. government could advocate, and correctly so, self-determination for Euro- pean Poles, Czechs and others, why should it not recognize that right as equally applicable to the Negro people, I asked, and proceeded to translate the question of self-determination to the American scene. 5

Briggs’ logic and eloquence did not go unnoticed. In his later writing about the period, Briggs described attempts of the both his editors and the United Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 181 States Postal Service to reign in his inflammatory editorials. He resigned in early 1918 from The Amsterdam News. Briggs characterized the resignation in a 1958 letter to Theodore Draper as “protest against the publishers’ attempt to censor my editorials, following their intimidation by government officials.” 6 Briggs quickly was backed to form a new journal, The Crusader, a monthly magazine published from September 1918 through 1922. These years proved formative for Briggs as he made connections between local change and international events, as first evidenced by those early Amsterdam News editorials and continued in early editorials that responded to the rhetoric of self-determination found in President Wilson’s public addresses. 7 The first issue holds two mottos on the front piece, “Onward for Democracy” and “Upward with the Race.” At the outset, Briggs sought to define black identity and ethnic nationality. Democ- racy and racial pride are key themes of the black press in the early years of the twentieth century, but Briggs also sought action from black America. 8 Asking the question, “Democracy Now, or Later?” Briggs cited James Weldon Johnson, writing in The Liberator , “The Negro has been counseled to refrain ‘at this time’ from pressing his claim to full right of American citizenship.” 9 But for Briggs, the time for pressing forward was at hand, and the first issue concluded with an appeal to the readership, under the heading “To You” asking, “Do YOU know that the Fight is on, the War begun for Negro Freedom throughout the world?” and exclaiming, “THIS IS YOUR FIGHT, HELP WAGE IT!” 10 If in 1918 Briggs focused on the correlations between the war in Europe and the struggle of blacks within the United States, the 1919 issues reflected a political shift in thinking. Briggs began to adopt Leftist language in the publication. The events of the Russian Revolution, Bolshevism, and world Communism were connected to Briggs’ search for the mechanism to broaden the scope of black identity. In March of 1919, Briggs witnessed the formation of the Comintern (the Communist International) and moved the events in Russia from a rhetorical template to a potential partner in the black fight for freedom in the United States. This prompted a May 1919 issue that promoted an extended engagement with Russia. In the editorial, “Make Their Cause Your Own” Briggs argued, “the USSR esteems the Negro.” 11 Linkage between Soviet rhetoric and black internationalism became a drumbeat for Briggs across the year. In September, Briggs’ heading emphatically exclaims “AND THEY WONDER AT BOLSHEVISM!” a line repeated and extended

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 in the editorial: “And still they wonder at Bolshevism! At direct action by the people for the betterment of conditions that are fast becoming intolerable.” 12 By October of 1919, the connection between black nationalism and Soviet Russia became explicit. Writing under the heading, “BOLSHEVIST!!!” Briggs wrote:

Bolshevist is an epithet that present-day reactionaries delight to flight around loosely against those who insist on thinking for themselves and on agitating for their rights . . . if as appears by its frequent use against those who are agitating in the people’s interest and for justice for the 182 Kathleen S. Macfie oppressed, the term is intended to cover those ‘bad agitators,’ who are not content that the people shall forever be enslaved in the clutches of the cut-throat, child-exploiting, capitalist-imperialist crew, then assuredly we are Bolshevists. This epithet nor any other holds any terrors for us. If to fight for one’s rights is to be Bolshevists, then we are Bolshevists and let them make the most of it! 13

This linkage between Bolshevism and the problems of the black race continued in the December issue and into early 1920. The February 1920 issue posed the editorial question, “Bolshevism’s Menace: To Whom and To What?” 14 The editorial that followed outlined Bolshevism’s menace to a democracy that continued to oppress subject peoples and to exploit weakness. Briggs proposed that Bolshevism, on the other hand, extends the opportunity for freedom to all weak and subjected peoples and concludes that the threat of Bolshevism, as perceived in the West, is to its enslaving powers. In addition to his lean to the left, clearly traceable across 1919, Briggs now appeared to extend his vision for a way forward to include oppressed peoples everywhere. By 1921, Briggs was looking for a different forum to describe his vision of the merger of black nationalism and internationalism, which he marries in an editorial from April of that year, titled “The Salvation of the Negro.” Briggs wrote:

It is clear then that it is possible to achieve the Negro’s salvation through the destruction of the present system and the substitution for it of the Social- ist Co-operative Commonwealth. This, always a possibility, has become, since the destruction of Czarist Capitalism in Russia and the establishment of a Communist Co-operative Commonwealth, a probability . . . . The surest and quickest way, then, in our opinion, to achieve the salvation of the Negro is to combine the two most likely and feasible propositions, viz: salvation for all Negros through the establishment of a strong, stable, independent Negro State (along the lines of our own race genius) in Africa or elsewhere, and salvation for all Negroes (as well as other oppressed peoples) through the establishment of a Universal Socialist Co-operative Commonwealth. To us it seems that one working for the first proposition would also be working for the second proposition. 15 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The salvation of the black American, its nationhood, and the full claim of humanity was linked to action. Given the opportunity to distinguish between oppressors and liberators, Briggs was confident that African-Americans will choose this “most likely and feasible proposition” to free not only themselves but to offer liberation to all of the oppressed of the world. In 1919, Briggs formed the African Blood Brotherhood (A.B.B.), initiating its organization with advertisements encouraging membership appearing in the October 1919 issue of The Crusader. While the African Blood Brotherhood did not flourish as a national organization, the group held a powerful ideal Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 183 that pressed the boundaries of nationalism. Within the context of the African Blood Brotherhood, Briggs called for the creation of a separate black nation on U.S. soil in 1917. These ideas eventually made their way in 1928 into the Communist Party’s Black Belt Thesis. Briggs addressed both the timing and the influences on the creation of the A.B.B. in the 1958 letters to Draper:

I am unable to state the exact date that organization of the Brotherhood was begun. I am positive, however, that it was a few months after publication of the first issue of the Crusader magazine. Thus in early 1919 if, as I believe, the first issue of the magazine appeared in November 1918. 16

Briggs affirmed Draper’s supposition about the relationship at that point between the Communist Party and the A.B.B.:

You are quite correct in assuming that the Communist Party had no part in initiating the organization of the Brotherhood. Nor did the Brother- hood owe its inspiration to the Communist movement. It was certainly already in existence when I had my first contact with the Communists, through the visits of Rose [Pastor Stokes] and Bob [Robert Minor] to my office at 2299 Seventh Avenue. Nor did the Communists inspire the A.B.B. program you have seen. 17

It is clear from the published issues of The Crusader that the formation of the A.B.B. preceded Briggs’ membership in the Communist Party, likely sometime in 1921. Briggs continued:

When I joined the party, there were only two other Negroes in it, Huiswood and Hendricks. Hendricks, whose first name I don’t recall, dropped out of the party—and the A.B.B.—during an organized tour for the Brotherhood. This was, I think, before the tour of Husiwood [otto Huiswoud] reported in The Worker of August 11, 1923. Both Huiswood and Hendricks joined the Brotherhood after I had entered the party—presumably on assignment by the party. Huiswood later became a member of the Council.18

Even if the Communist Party did not provide the inspiration for the cre-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ation of the A.B.B., the work that emerged from the cooperation between the two certainly influenced the A.B.B.’s most significant contribution to black activism, the creation of the CNA, Crusader News Agency. Following the timeline then established by Briggs, The Crusader released its first issue in November of 1918, the A.B.B. was organized in early 1919, and the news service followed, sometime between Briggs’ own joining of the Communist Party and the ceasing of publication of The Crusader in 1922.

If organizing the Brotherhood was not inspired by any particular event or development, the creation of the Crusader New Service was inspired by 184 Kathleen S. Macfie our fight against certain policies and tactics of Garvey and his lieutenants. We wished to get the widest possible audience for our polemics against those tactics and policies and accordingly organized the news service, sending it to some 200 Negro papers throughout the country, and in the West Indies and Africa. Since we made no charge for the service, it found immediate acceptance, particularly among the smaller Negro papers. Fac- tually, it was a weekly service, not semi-weekly. The CNS, or CNA as it was later called to avoid confusion with the new Capital News Service sent out from Washington, was the first Negro national news service to be organized in this country. It preceded by several months the Associated Negro Press (ANP); probably inspired organization of the latter. 19

Clearly, the CNA’s creation was initially a response to the need to combat the Garvey movement but quickly became a vehicle that connected Briggs’ work with the Communist Party to the work of the then-defunct A.B.B. The Cru- sader News Agency enjoyed a success that the A.B.B. never attained. The Crusader ceased publication in February 1922. Marcus Garvey’s arrest in January of the same year and the shuttering of The Crusader mark a closure to a volatile era. Briggs was poised to launch a weekly newspaper, The Libera- tor. Throughout the remainder of the 1920s, Briggs struggled to find a foothold that would allow him to promote both the mission of the A.B.B. and his vision of the possibility of revolutionary black internationalism. Claude McKay attended the Fourth Comintern meeting in Moscow in 1922 as a member of Briggs’ A.B.B. McKay’s travel to the Soviet Union was not an anomaly. The question of the American Negro arose at the Second Comintern Congress in 1920, and the Soviet government extended invitations to other prominent African-American intellectuals, cultural figures, and artists as the Soviets sought support in the worldwide spread of its ideology. John Reed, the Ameri- can journalist who traveled to Russia in time to witness the 1917 Revolu- tion, wrote and spoke widely in the United States about the natural affinity of America’s oppressed black population and the Soviet’s espousal of a raceless, classless society. By 1925, the first five African-Americans enrolled in the Far East University in the Soviet Union, a university created to educate international representatives of oppressed nations worldwide. There were incentives on both sides of the equation. While the Soviets sought an association

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 with American blacks, black radicals in the United States also recognized the advantage of membership in the Communist Party. In his study, Communists in Harlem during the Depression , Mark Naison described the political difficulties in the early 1920s of figures like Briggs:

Radicals like Briggs and [Richard Benjamin] Moore, who refused to adapt to the new political climate, found themselves leaders without a constituency. In the early 20s, the African Blood Brotherhood fell apart. The Cru- sader folded and membership in the Brotherhood fell to the point where the organization was kept alive only by an infusion of new members from Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 185 the Communist Party. . . . Briggs and Moore, who had wanted to function as both Communists and black nationalists, now found that the nationalist organization they had created could not function on an independent basis. Worse yet, no other nationalist organization represented a viable alternative, since Garveyism had entered a conservative phases. To play their chosen role as advocates of revolutionary upheaval among blacks, Briggs and Moore now needed the Communist Party, both for financial and political support. 20

In March of 1929, at its sixth National Convention, five black men were elected to the Communist Party’s Central Committee; among them was Cyril Briggs, who was appointed as director of the “Negro Department.” 21 In the August 1929 issue of The Communist , Briggs wrote a lengthy article, “Black Press as a Class Weapon,” articulating the work of the Communist Party in the Negro Press and championing the need for strong support of the black news service, noting the development of such from “a group of poorly made-up, atro- ciously edited periodicals, the Negro press has improved so greatly that today it stands comparison with any other group of periodicals. It is served by several efficient news services, including the Associated Negro Press, the Preston News, the Capital News Service, and the radical Crusader News Service.” 22 The activity of these news services, however, appeared to be insufficient to Briggs. He continued, “We are under the necessity of working fast, as with the growth of the Negro bourgeoisie more and more papers will come under its control with the result that their columns will be closed to our propaganda. We must immediately increase the effectiveness of our press service.” 23 Later, Briggs concluded with an admonishment to the Communist Party to counter the reactionary influences of the bourgeois press and underscored a primary tenet of his thinking, that is, the connection between the Negro struggle and the larger international struggle. Briggs wrote, “Only by convincing the Negro masses that we are in earnest will we win their confidence. But we must not only be active in the Negro struggle against white ruling class terrorism, which is part of the world-wide struggle of the proletariat; we must have the means of broadcasting to the Negro masses the news of our activities.” 24 By 1930, a rift opened between Briggs and the Communist Party. Briggs was officially censured. A 1933 editorial from the Harlem Liberator is perhaps

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the clearest statement of his attempt to marry revolutionary internationalism with black nationalism. Here we find Briggs claiming Alexander Pushkin, the Russian poet, as a black poet and as a model revolutionary for proletarian internationalism. This editorial in the September 9, 1933, issue, under the title, “Art Is a Weapon” provides an eloquent summation of Briggs’ attraction to the Communist Party. Briggs wrote:

Art is a weapon in the hands of the white ruling class. Art can be, and must be made a weapon in the hands of the toiling masses and the oppressed Negro People in their struggles for bread and freedom. 186 Kathleen S. Macfie In contrast to the cultural disarming of the oppressed Negro people under the United States imperialism, the cultural revolution in the Soviet Union has given complete cultural, as well as political autonomy to the numerous nationalities that were formerly bitterly oppressed under Tsarist imperialism. The cultural revolution in the Soviet Union is an integral part of the social revolution by which the Russian toilers under the leadership of the Russian Communist Party overthrew Tsarism and capitalism, and seized power for themselves. The example of the Russian toilers offers to the black and white toilers and the Negro People of this country the only way out of the capitalist-morass of permanent unemployment, mass misery and imperialist war. 25

Briggs insisted that the Soviet toilers have offered “black and white toilers and the Negro people ” a way out of the capitalist morass. In 1942, Briggs was expelled from the party for holding fast to both black nationalism and a vision of an internationalist solution to the crisis of black identity. In 1944, Briggs moved to California, effectively removing himself from the black radical movement in Harlem, of which he was such an important component.

Reflection on Failure: The Value of Briggs’ Conversation with Theodore Draper Briggs’ body of work is a valuable primary source recording the engagement between black Americans and Soviet Communism. Briggs’ regular contributions to the editorial pages of the black press provided a constant update across a volatile period, thus the reader reads the evolution of political impulses across a period of time. The value of the source is augmented by Briggs’ own reflection on this engagement, which provides a contextualizing narration, documented in the brief but thoughtful correspondence between Briggs and Theodore Draper in 1958 as Draper researched his seminal volume, American Communism and Soviet Russia. Briggs expounds on the impulses that are documented in the texts, giving a fuller continuity to the story. Briggs’ responses outline the formation of the African Blood Brotherhood and the organizers’ objections to Marcus Garvey’s movement. Briggs conceded that Garvey was more successful in building a national organization, while the A.B.B. remained

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 more of a regional presence, which he attributes, in part, to Garvey’s

advantage of being able to put a number of paid organizers in the field and of making attractive financial offers to leading elements in Negro communities. Not to mention its highly emotional and dramatic appeal, compounded of feudal titles and pageantry, building Negro business (a theme dear to the hearts of the Negro bourgeoisie), and a triumphant return to Africa to create a mighty black empire, to mention just a few of its components. I would say, too that Garvey successfully capitalized on Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 187 the seeds of militancy sown by the new Negro movement, including our agitation for African freedom. 26

In hindsight, Briggs drew the major divisions that developed in the black press to 1920: DuBois in the Crisis and Garvey in The Negro World focused on the acquisition of wealth and economic gains in black America and the promise of a future greatness in a mythical Africa of the future, while Briggs and The Crusader pushed a more radical transnational vision that was not able to gain a firm hold in the larger black community. While acknowledging his own movements’ failure, Briggs recognized the contribution that radical agitation did make toward black self-determination. If the Communist Party did not instigate the creation of the A.B.B., the leadership in the Soviet Union certainly recognized the value for their goals of recruiting membership from the black community in general and through the A.B.B. specifically. Briggs enumerated the A.B.B’s objectives:

The Brotherhood, as later The Crusader News Service, was organized with the objectives of combatting several aspects of the Garvey movement and in particular its “Back to Africa” philosophy; promoting a militant fighting unity among the Negro people; emphasizing the identity of interests between the Negro and colonial peoples and enlisting the support for the anti-imperialist struggles of the latter; combatting the illu- sion so assiduously and successfully spread by the Negro bourgeoisie in that period—with the aid of the anti-Negro policies and practices of the trade unions—that the “best white people” were our friends, the white working man our enemy; promoting unity of Negro and White workers and agitating for abolition of Jim Crow practices in the unions. We were also in sharp disagreement with NAACP reformist policies, and Booker Washington survivals. What we were seeking, in effect, was a fundamental change in the Negro’s pattern of thinking. 27

Briggs’ reflection here on the A.B.B. agenda is, perhaps, the clearest elucidation of Briggs’ radical trajectory. What began as a differentiation between Briggs’ philosophy and Garvey’s evolved into a vision of black self-determination that did not preclude alliance with workers everywhere in their fight against

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 oppression. Briggs also delineated his active participation in the Communist Party. Acknowledging the fact that the Communist Party held less sway over their Southern A.B.B. members, Briggs wrote:

After I, Dick Moore and some other members of the Supreme Coun- cil joined the CP [Communist Party], we sought to and succeeded in establishing a close relationship between the two organizations. This was successful, however, only in the northern industrial centers. Few of our Southern members joined the CP or followed us into the American 188 Kathleen S. Macfie Negro Labor Congress when we decided to liquidate the Brotherhood and turn our efforts to building the Congress. 28

Bringing the leadership of the A.B.B. into the Communist Party drew Briggs and other radical blacks into a racially mixed movement, but it did not ultimately secure a lasting success for the Brotherhood. This correspondence confirmed both the esteem in which the Communist Party held Cyril Briggs and the value Briggs placed in the Communist Party. Briggs concluded, “My interest in Communism was inspired by the national policy of the Russian Bolsheviks and the anti-imperialist orientation of the Soviet State birthed by the October Revolution.” 29 Cyril Briggs was at the center of the radicalization of black intellectuals and the engagement between black America and Soviet Communism, which makes equally puzzling the fact that Briggs’s life and work has been so underac- knowledged and so often relegated to the footnotes of this important cultural story. Theodore Draper himself acknowledged The Crusader specifically in the volume on American Communism and Soviet Russia, stating that The Cru- sader “magazine seems absolutely essential for an understanding of the early Negro aspect of the American Communist movement.” 30 Briggs clearly held a central place within the leading intellectual voices shaping the collective minds of black America, and along with Marcus Garvey and Claude McKay, Briggs was one of three West Indian immigrants to the United States who rose to the top intellectual leadership in the black radical movement. 31 Beneath the seemingly racial sameness of this migration, the West Indians were “intellectuals, agitators, and organizers who pursued the dream of liberation and Black self-determination with the embrace of what they were persuaded was an international proletariat movement.” 32 Marcus Garvey, Claude McKay, and Cyril Briggs all worked to construct a path to self-determination with a larger international movement, something that would inscribe the “us” of the black American community onto a larger movement of how people in the twentieth century were going to be organized. 33 One might posit that the crafting of identity was an even more closely held mission among the West Indian population that immigrated to the United States, as they worked to craft an American identity and to lead black Americans, for their search informed the creation and grounding of their own identities within the American context.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Marcus Garvey, Claude McKay, and Cyril Briggs worked in different, although overlapping, spheres in the cultivation of the American black community. Garvey was a political organizer and the founder of the “back to Africa” movement. Claude McKay was a writer whose works figure promi- nently in the most studied black literary movement of the twentieth century, the Harlem Renaissance. The success of their respective movements, perhaps, has secured their places in history. Briggs worked almost exclusively as a journalist. One cannot help but assume that Briggs’ confinement to written medium contributed to the marginalization of his work and the lack of his presence within the greater community. Briggs was known to have a severe Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 189 speech impediment. While Briggs displayed fluency with the written word, the inability to work outside of the medium surely limited the scope of his work. The tenuous nature of the emerging black press, with its haphazard and impermanent archives, too, contributed to Briggs’ less recognized status. The early issues (before 1924, according to letter of Briggs to Draper) of The New York Amsterdam News appear to be lost. These very issues are where Briggs claimed his greatest achievement—being the first to write of black self- determination. Briggs’ own publication, The Crusader, too, has only a small surviving number of original copies, with no complete original set held by any one repository or archive. One entire exemplar of the magazine donated to The Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture disappeared. 34 Briggs’ own personal archive was substantially reduced in his move from New York to California in the 1940s. Garvey and McKay survive as relatively well- known entities, while Briggs and his works have been relegated to footnotes, forewords, and epilogues in the historical record and depiction of this cultural and intellectual movement.

Conclusion The engagement between the African-American community and Russia/ Soviet Union clearly shaped the black intellectual movement across the twentieth century. Already by the 1930s, the natural affinity between black intellectuals and Communism is clearly evidenced by both written and physical record. 35 The Soviet government extended invitations to prominent African-American intellectuals, cultural figures, and artists as it became clear that their greatest support in the spreading of communist ideology within the United States was to be found among black intellectuals. The Soviet Union, with its espousal of a raceless, classless society, greatly appealed to the new black intellectual at a time of great disenfranchisement of blacks in the United States. In addition, the open-arm policy of the new Soviet state toward blacks also appealed to a group largely segregated and shut out of economic opportunities and political and cultural life at home. The underwrit- ing of travel to the Soviet Union by the Soviet government brought many African-Americans to Russian soil to witness the unfolding social experiment. This group included such well-known individuals as W.E.B. DuBois, Paul

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Robeson, Langston Hughes, and others, less renowned, who sought out this experience for political reasons, as thrill seekers, and on the basis of economic need. A deluge of scholarly works devoted to unpacking the significance of the Soviet Union and Communism on the development of African-Americans’ political mind, literary development, and cultural movement emerged in the later years of the twentieth century. The earliest volumes, notably Theodore Draper’s very early volume American Communism and Soviet Russia (1960) and Allison Blakely’s groundbreaking Russia and the Negro (1986), established the existence of an important historical and cultural exchange. From this base, the examinations found intellectual engagement and cultural affinity across 190 Kathleen S. Macfie all manner of political, social, and literary movements. William J. Maxwell, in his study New Negro, Old Left, argues, “The history of African-American letters cannot be unraveled from the history of American Communism without damage to both.” 36 Likewise, Cyril Briggs is inextricably linked to the development of the black radical intellectual community, black nationalism, and proletarian internationalism, whose history cannot be completely written without acknowledging his central and crucial contributions.

Notes 1. W.E.B. DuBois, The Souls of Black Folk (Chicago: A.C. McClurg and Co., 1903), xx. This prescient phrase echoes throughout The Souls of Black Folk. From its first mention in the “The Forethought” into the first two essays of the volume, DuBois underscores the enormity of the challenge facing black Americans. In its most- cited form, from the second chapter (used here), DuBois extends the context from blacks in the United States to issues of race around the world. 2. A brief history of development and scope of the black press is in order. A survey of the early state of the African-American press finds the first black newspaper, Free- dom’s Journal, launched in 1827 (later The Rights of All) and joined by thirty black- operated independent newspapers by the 1880s. Four more major papers appeared in the first years after the turn of the century: the Guardian in 1901 (in Boston), the Chicago Defender in 1905, and the Pittsburgh Courier followed with the Black Dispatch in 1910. In a 1922 essay called “Negro Journalism,” George W. Gore, Jr. published his assessment of the “state of things” within the black press and cites the addition of fifty black papers at the turn of the century and the founding of some one hundred additional black newspapers in the early postwar years. By 1920, there were black papers in almost every state. Frederick G. Detweiler’s study, The Negro Press in the United States, also confirms the burgeoning number of black publications but notes the high mortality rate of black publications between 1900 and 1920. 3. Cyril Valentine Briggs was born May 28, 1888, on the island of Nevis, West Indies. He arrived in the United States on July 4, 1905, and joined The Amsterdam News in 1912. 4. Robert A. Hill, “Racial and Radical: Cyril V. Briggs, THE CRUSADER Magazine, and the African Blood Brotherhood,” in The Crusader, 6 vols. (New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1987), xiii. 5. Cyril V. Briggs, letter to Theodore Draper, March 17, 1958. Personal correspondence with Theodore Draper, Seven letters, 1958, Emory University Manuscript, Archives, and Rare Book Library (MARBL) file MSS 579. 6. Ibid. 7. Woodrow Wilson delivered the “Fourteen Points” speech to Congress in January Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of 1918 and public addresses on the Liberty Loan programs (Third Liberty Loan address on April 1918 and the Fourth Liberty Loan address in September of the same year) throughout 1918. 8. Robert T. Kerlin’s The Voice of the Negro , (New York: Arno, 1920, 1968) surveyed top black publications and their content across 1919 and found that three-fifths of the articles addressed racial struggle, clashes, problems, pride, and progress. 9. Cyril V. Briggs, The Crusader , September 1918: 15 . 10. Cyril V. Briggs, The Crusader , September 1918: 12 . 11. Cyril V. Briggs. The Crusader , May 1919: 6. 12. Cyril V. Briggs, The Crusader, September 1919: 8. 13. Cyril V. Briggs, The Crusader , October 1919: 9. Cyril Briggs and The Crusader 191 14. An active movement in the earliest years of the Soviet state sought an association between the Soviet Union and the American Negro. The question first arose at the Second Comintern Congress in 1920, with Lenin’s agenda item called “the Negro question.” The development of the so-called Black Belt Nation Thesis was one strategy for marrying the African-American struggle in the United States to the events and goals of the emerging Soviet State. 15. Cyril V. Briggs, The Crusader , April 1921: 9. 16. Cyril V. Briggs, letter to Theodore Draper, March 7, 1958. 17. Ibid. 18. Cyril V. Briggs, letter to Theodore Draper, March 17, 1958 . 19. Ibid. 20. Mark Naison, Communists in Harlem during the Depression (New York: Grove Press, Inc. 1983), 10. 21. Ibid., 19. 22. Cyril V. Briggs, “Black Press as a Class Weapon,” The Communist , August 1929: 455 . 23. Ibid. 24. Ibid, 460. 25. Cyril V. Briggs, “Art Is a Weapon” Harlem Liberator , September 9, 1933. 26. Cyril Briggs, letter to Theodore Draper, March 17, 1958. 27. Ibid. 28. Ibid. 29. Ibid. 30. Theodore Draper, American Communism and Soviet Russia (New York: Vintage, 1960), 322. 31. An active movement in the earliest years of the Soviet state sought an association between the Soviet Union and the American Negro. The question first arose at the Second Comintern Congress in 1920, with Lenin’s agenda item called “the Negro question.” The development of the so-called Black Belt Nation Thesis was one strategy for marrying the African-American struggle in the United States to the events and goals of the emerging Soviet State. 32. Cedric J. Robinson, Black Movements in America (London: Routledge, 1997), 119. 33. In his own recent work, Freedom Dreams , Robin D. G. Kelley reasserts these motivations as emanating from the First World War: The momentary crisis of ‘Western civilization’ cause by the chaos of war, worker rebellions, anticolonial uprisings, postwar racial violence, and talk of ‘self-determination for oppressed nations’ contributed to the dramatic explosion of the Garvey movement and a new generation of ‘New Negroes’ advocat- ing a radical fusion of socialism and ‘race politics.’ (45) In his study, Black Marxism, Cedric J. Robinson broadens the scope of the examination of black migration patterns in relation to events that arose during, because of, or after the First World War. In the United States, black emigration from the Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 South created black urban communities. Nearly a quarter of a million to a million black workers and their families migrated during the war years. This migration coincided with one from the English-speaking West Indies. Tens of thousands of West Indians came to the United States during the first decades of the twentieth century. It was work, too, that attracted them, and so they located in precisely the same Black communities that received the internal migration. See Cedric J. Robinson, Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1983), 213. 34. For a discussion of the surviving copies of The Crusader, see Robert A. Hill’s com- pilation of a facsimile of the magazine and his Foreword to the volume, “Racial 192 Kathleen S. Macfie and Radical: Cyril V. Briggs, THE CRUSADER Magazine, and the African Blood Brotherhood,” in The Crusader , 6 vols. (New York: Garland Publishing, Inc., 1978). 35. For discussion of record of travels of black intellectuals to the Soviet Union, see Kate A. Baldwin, Beyond the Color Line and the Iron Curtain : Reading Encoun- ters between Black and Red (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2002); Alison Blakely Russia and the Negro (Washington, D.C.: Howard University Press, 1986); Kathleen Macfie Ahern “Images of Pushkin in the Writings of the ‘Black Pil- grims’” Mississippi Quarterly , (Winter 2001–2002): 75–86. 36. William J. Maxwell, New Negro, Old Left (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), 2. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 14 Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia

Ada Ackerman 1

In the summer of 1930, the American photographer Margaret Bourke-White, then aged just 26 and already famous in the United States for her industrial photographs, found herself in Germany after being commissioned by her employer, Fortune—a glossy industry magazine launched the previous year—to take photographs of the factories of the Ruhr Valley. In keeping with her legendary pen- chant for challenge and adventure, Bourke-White was determined, contrary to the advice of the editors of Fortune , to travel on from there to the Soviet Union in order to witness and record the transformations brought about by the Five- Year Plan, which at the time was the subject of much fantasy and controversy in the United States. She even resolved to persuade the Soviet government to pay her food bills. 2 After long and complicated negotiations, Bourke-White finally succeeded in entering Soviet territory and spent five weeks there between August and September 1930. She took over 800 photographs. This was the first time a professional photographer from abroad had been allowed to take pictures of the “ Piatiletka ” (Five-Year Plan). 3 Moreover, as Bourke-White recounted in her travelogue, Eyes on Russia, published the next year ( Figure 14.1), she was granted special status because the Soviet government decided to make her their official guest and paid all her expenses. 4 She was quick to point out in her travelogue how useful she found the official letters, obtained from the government and duly stamped, for getting her out of some tight spots. This was not retrospective exaggeration. Having just completed her first trip to the USSR, she wrote to her mother: “I have had a vast successful trip and my position is unique here among the Soviets. With the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 government papers I have, as one Russian expressed himself to my interpreter, I could go to the moon.” 5 As well as providing for and facilitating Bourke-White’s trip between August and September 1930, the authorities were clearly very satisfied with it as they allowed her to return to the USSR in 1931 to take more photographs and again in 1932 to film a documentary—again, she was the first foreigner to be authorized to do this. 6 She took advantage of that trip to travel to Georgia to Didi-Lilo, the village where Stalin’s father was born, and she was granted the extremely rare privilege of being allowed to take a photograph of the leader’s great-aunt. She also went on to photograph his mother in Tiflis (now 194 Ada Ackerman

Figure 14.1 Cover for Margaret Bourke-White, Eyes on Russia, New York, Simon and Schuster, 1931. Cover of Eisenstein’s copy Copy dedicated as following: “To Sergei Eisenstein, with my admiration and regards.” Photo: © Einstein Museum, Moscow/ © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White/ Licensed by VAGA, New York

Tbilisi). In 1941, Bourke-White returned one last time to the Soviet Union and managed to take a portrait of the man himself, which was reproduced on the front cover of Life magazine . She also provided exclusive coverage of the aerial bombing of Moscow and took photographs documenting the day-to-day life and battles of the Red Army. Surprisingly, monographs devoted to Bourke-White state these facts without ever seeking to explain them. Why did the Soviet government grant such favors to the American photographer? Why pay a foreign photographer’s expenses at a time of real financial hardship so that she could cover the Five-Year Plan, when the country was not short of its own homegrown talent? What were the stakes and expectations of this agreement, on both sides? Was there any interaction between Bourke-White and the Soviet Union’s key cultural figures? It is hard to give an accurate response to all these questions insofar as the archives on the Russian side are not always readily available, especially those of the NKVD , kept at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Moreover, even those archives that are accessible—such as those of VOKS (All-Russian Society for Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries), Intourist or the Politburo , kept

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 at GARF (State Archive of the Russian Federation, Moscow) and RGASPI (Russian State Archive of Social and Political History—“Party Archive,” Moscow)—constitute very incomplete resources, especially for the 1930s. However, it is possible to proffer some sort of response by focusing on the year 1930 and Bourke-White’s first contact with the Soviet Union.

The Five-Year Plan: An Ideal Topic As far as Bourke-White was concerned, her motivations at the time were not at all ideological: “I did not go to the USSR to study it as a political and social experiment. I knew very little about its politics and sociology.” 7 Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 195 In fact, her book reads above all like a tale of adventures and vivid impressions documented by “a charming American girl” 8 and contains very few political and economic considerations, with the exception of her remarks concerning the lack of provisions and transport. Bourke-White was not yet the left-wing activist she went on to become when she met Erskine Caldwell, whom she married in 1939. 9 In 1930, she was a photographer employed by industrialists who paid her handsomely to take promotional photographs for glossy magazines. Above all, she was driven by a burning ambition and sought to establish her reputation as an industrial photographer—a largely mascu- line specialism at the time. With that in mind, it is remarkable to note the extent to which the American press of the day delighted in highlighting the perceived contrast between her beauty and elegance and her subject matter, which was industry. Succeeding in providing exclusive coverage of the Five- Year Plan represented a significant breakthrough for Bourke-White, given that it was a unique subject in the history of mankind: “Russia is trying to do an astonishing thing. It is struggling to transmute an agricultural country into an industrial country, almost overnight: to do in a few short years what took half a century in the West.” 10

Useful Images, Both Abroad and in the Soviet Union There could be several reasons for the inordinately warm welcome Bourke- White received from the Soviets. First, we obviously cannot exclude the theory that she was a spy or a double agent, especially during her second stay in the USSR when she was given the opportunity to take reportage photographs of Stalin’s father’s native village. For a long time, the FBI considered the possibility that Bourke-White might have been acting on behalf of the Soviet Union. 11 However, these suspicions did not constitute sufficient proof insofar as they did not arise until the 1940s and 1950s in an America that was in the throes of McCarthyism. Given the current lack of access to archives, such as those of the NKVD or the KGB, it is hard to come to any conclusions on the matter. A more mundane explanation for Bourke-White’s special treatment might be that she had struck up a romance with a high-ranking Soviet official. Bourke-White was quite a seductress and boasted of having received several

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 marriage proposals in Russia as a result of the attraction that an Amerikanka could spark in Soviet men. One of the men with whom she appears to have formed a close bond was Leonid Serebriakov (1888–1937), vice-president of the Russian railways. 12 It was he who suggested that the government should issue her an official invitation and who arranged her trip to the Soviet Union with the help of Arteshes (Artemii) Khalatov (1896–1938), head of Gosizdat (State Publishing House). It is difficult to ascertain the truth of such a hypoth- esis, but there are other more tangible elements that might explain the Soviet authorities’ favorable treatment of Bourke-White. Following its rapid industrialization, the USSR wanted the West to see it as a first-rate economic power to be reckoned with. The USSR hoped that this 196 Ada Ackerman might contribute to the United States giving it official recognition. Moreover, with an economic recession hitting Europe and the United States hard, the Five-Year Plan seemed to many Westerners to represent a viable alternative to capitalism. That was one of the reasons why American literature on the USSR and on the Five-Year Plan continued to grow, along with tourism to the Soviet Union from the West. 13 Bourke-White’s venture, then, was part of a general dynamic of curiosity shown by Americans for the Soviet Union, which the Soviets were quick to encourage. To Soviet officials, it seemed invaluable for a talented photographer like Bourke-White to be circulating, on her return to the United States, photographs that so eloquently documented the progress of Soviet industrialization. This is revealed in a letter sent during the summer of 1930 of Boris Skvirsky to VOKS (All Russian Society for Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries). A major figure in American-Soviet relations, Skvirsky (1887–1941) was then head of the Russian Information Bureau in Washington, an unofficial organization set up in 1923. One of his undertakings was to make it easier for Ameri- can citizens to obtain visas for the USSR. 14 It was he that Bourke-White went to see when she decided to follow her trip to Germany with a stay in Russia. Skvirsky warmly recommended her to VOKS, convinced that she would prove useful to the Soviet cause:

Dear Fedor Nikolaevich, Leading photographer Margaret Bourke-White intends to visit our Union at the start of July of this year. She specialises in photographing industrial manufacturing processes. I have seen examples of her work which is altogether interesting and original. . . . She intends to take a whole series of artistic photographs of our industrial organizations. Bourke-White then envisages exhibiting a selection of these photographs in various museums on her return to the United States. 15

It was this potential for the Five-Year Plan’s publicity in the West that persuaded VOKS to write in turn to the NKVD to ask them to grant Bourke- White permission to photograph industrial sites both in Moscow and in other

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 major centers of production: “The citizen Bert-White [sic ] works as a photo- editor for leading glossy magazine, Fortune . She has stated that the goal of her visit to the USSR is to photograph our businesses and working methods for publication in her magazine.” 16 Soviet officials were in full agreement on this matter. Bourke-White recounted how her portfolio of industrial photographs opened doors for her and how Leonid Serebriakov leafed through it and declared: “Khalatov [head of the Gosizdat and on the editorial team of SSSR na stroike magazine] must see your pictures. You can be of great service to the Soviet Union. They are just what Russia needs.” 17 Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 197 Indeed, Bourke-White was granted any clearance for which she asked, as is revealed in the VOKS journal which reported, for example, that on August 14 everything was in place for the American to visit and take photographs in a bread-making factory. 18 The officials were not disappointed with the results. Valery Mezhlauk (1893–1938), vice-chairman of the VSNKh (Supreme Council of the National Economy), expressed to Bourke-White his admiration for her Soviet photographs published in Eyes on Russia: “I want to congratulate you on the splendid pictures. I have enjoyed looking over some of the most artistic industrial photographs I have ever seen.” 19 This was no mean compliment coming from a man who, besides holding a key position in industry thanks to his political clout, also edited one of country’s best photographic magazines for showcasing industrialization: Stroim. Stroitel’stvo sovetskoi promyshlennosti v foto ( We are building. The building of Soviet industry in photographs) , published between 1929 and 1938 and notable for its high-quality images. However, the interest the Soviet authorities took in Bourke-White’s work cannot simply be explained by their desire to send a positive image of Russia back to the Americans. Soviet officials felt that her photographs could also be put to good use within Russia itself because of their perceived similarity to Soviet art. It was on that basis that Boris Skvirsky recommended the young American woman to VOKS: “I imagine her visit might be of interest to SSSR na stroike magazine insofar as her work bears a resemblance to theirs. . . . I would recommend that the comrades who run the photographic department of VOKs meet Bourke-White since her visit will doubtless be hugely beneficial to them.” 20 VOKS accepted Skvirsky’s recommendation and set up a meeting for Bourke-White on August 11, 1930, with Mikhail Kol’tsov and Lazar Shmidt, editors of Ogonek and Prozhektor , magazines whose immense popularity was due in part to their stunning photographic illustrations, and with Yakov Doletsky (1888–1937), who was director of TASS news agency. 21 Similarly, the next day, VOKS organized a visit for the American photographer to the offices of Union-Foto , one of the country’s photographic agencies. 22 This conviction that Bourke-White’s work could be used to help mobilize the Soviets was shared by Maurice Hindus, then one of America’s most repu-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 table experts on the Soviet Union whom Bourke-White met during the summer of 1930. In his laudatory preface to Eyes on Russia , Hindus noted that Soviet leaders saw in her photographs the potential for propaganda that they could use to their own advantage: “More than any Soviet poster that I have seen do these photographs dramatize the importance of the tractor on the Russian land. I can well imagine the Soviets reprinting them in millions and sending them all over the country to adorn the offices of collective farms and village Soviets.” 23 Hindus—who was Bourke-White’s lover at the time and in a position to help her make inroads into Russia thanks to his excellent relations with the 198 Ada Ackerman Soviets—was convinced that only the Soviets could appreciate the true value of her photographic output, as he explained to her in a letter:

You have a great future in Russia—more real recognition, though very little money, than in any other country in the world and it would be too bad to spoil the chances of attaining it. Your unparalleled capacity to dramatize the machine cannot possibly bring you the same appreciation in America that it can in Russia, for the Russians are the very people who, at this period of their history at any rate, spiritualize the machine. There is a close connection between spiritualization and dramatization, the first always also implies the second. I thus believe Russian can give you great fame. 24

A Lukewarm Artistic Welcome It remained to be seen whether these expectations were justified. Bourke- White was given the opportunity to show her work at a lecture organized for her by the editor of an illustrated weekly, but we do not know which weekly: “You must address our young people. You must talk to them about art and photography. We will gather them together, the editors, the artists, the photographers, and you will talk to them about the art of photographing the machine.” 25 Bourke-White’s talk consisted mainly of practical considerations: “[pay ] careful attention to lighting so the quality material is brought out”; “it is the very blackness and whiteness of photography that makes it so suitable for industrial objects”; “a dynamo is as beautiful as a vase, but it was never meant to be beautiful; in the very economy of its form lies its artistic value.” 26 Contrary to the editor’s expectations, her talk failed to have a strong impact on the Russian photographic milieu. The first proof of that was the scant interest shown by the Soviet photographic press in Bourke-White’s work. It took until March 1932, just under two years after Bourke-White’s first visit to the USSR, for one of her photographs to appear in the Soviet press. The photograph was printed in the fourth edition of Soviet Travel, an English-language magazine designed to stimulate foreign tourism in the Soviet Union through the use of photography (the touristic equivalent of

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 SSSR na stroike ) . An article by Serafim Serov on Moscow featured several full-page photographs showcasing the city’s spectacular sights, including one photograph by Bourke-White depicting the Bolshoi Theatre in all its splendor (see Figure 14.2 ). In the table of contents, Bourke-White is the only foreigner to be listed alongside the best-known Soviet photographers of the day, such as Max Al’pert, Dmitri Debabov, Boris Ignatovich, El Lissitzky, and Arkady Shaikhet. However, that was the only time the magazine featured a picture by the Amer- ican photographer. Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 199

Figure 14.2 Margaret Bourke-White, The Colonnade of the Moscow Grand Theater , 1931. Reproduced in Soviet Travel n°4, 1932, p. 13. Photo: © National Library of Russia, Moscow/ © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White, Licensed by VAGA, New York

That same year, for the cover of its 312th edition, Prozhektor used a famous photograph taken by Bourke-White in 1931 in Magnitogorsk showing a factory worker handling a long length of piping (see Figure 14.3 ). The photograph had been reproduced in March of the same year in the United States in one of Bourke-White’s photo reports on the Soviet Union for the New York Times Magazine. 27 Prozhektor captioned the photograph as follows, emphasizing its foreign provenance: “Photo-study by American photographer Margaret Bourke-White.” Though the photograph was reproduced on the cover, no further details were provided inside the magazine about its subject matter or about Bourke-White. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Figure 14.3 Margaret Bourke-White, A Steel Worker. Magnitogorsk, 1931. Cover of Prozhektor n°312, 1932. Photo: © National Library of Russia, Moscow/ © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White, Licensed by VAGA, New York 200 Ada Ackerman A systematic perusal of the Soviet illustrated press reveals that by 1932 not one magazine or illustrated journal in Russia had alluded to or reproduced Bourke-White’s photographic work, falling well short of the hopes of Skvir- sky or Serebriakov. 28 However, one exception is worth mention. In Novem- ber 1930, shortly after Bourke-White’s departure from the USSR, Sovetskoe Foto published an article by Leonid Mezhericher (1898–1938), who became the editor of Proletarskoe Foto and a leading photography critic in the Soviet Union. Entitled “Man and Machine in Photography,” the purpose of the article was to sanitize industrial photography and to purge it of any ideologically harmful foreign influences. 29 Mezhericher may have rejoiced in the fact that workers and machines in the USSR had become a favorite subject matter for amateur photographers, but he deplored their fascination for machines to the detriment of humans: “The subject matter of choice for Soviet amateur photographers is machinery and factories. That is good. However, very often, humans are erased or “forgotten,” despite being the creators and masters of the machines. And that is not good.” 30 The author felt that this shortcoming in Soviet photography could be blamed on bourgeois photographers from capitalist countries who had culti- vated a particular aesthetic for photographing machinery. According to him, Westerners delighted in photographing machinery from an entirely formal perspective, which was unacceptable to the school of proletarian art from which Mezhericher claimed to draw his inspiration. He lamented the fact that such predilections were contaminating Soviet photography: “This is reflected in the way the subject matter is shot, in the composition of the photograph and in its expressiveness. Unfortunately, Soviet photography sometimes appears to have fallen victim to this bourgeois influence and this blind fascination for the form of the machine itself.” 31 Besides these strictly formal concerns, Mezhericher explained—not without contradictions—that bourgeois photographers were worshiping machines as entities in their own right, capable of eclipsing human workers, eventually even replacing them completely. Machines were being celebrated for their ability to embody the power and domination of the middle classes. Once again, Mezhericher noted the harmful influence of bourgeois Westerners over Soviet photographers who were adopting this travesty. He illustrated this by referring to two photographs: Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Look, for example, at Photo No.1 (taken by an American photo- reporter). Look how imposing the machine is, how pathetic and insig- nificant the worker toiling beneath it seems! Is this photograph not related to Soviet Photo No 2 (of ploughshares being sharpened)? The composition of the latter is such that the machine appears, like a preda- tor swooping on its prey, to be falling on top of the worker, as if to crush and oppress him while he toils beside it, weighed down by this thankless task. This treatment is entirely inconsistent with our ideology and our vision of work. 32 Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 201 It transpires that the full-page Photo No.1, simply labeled “Figure 1: Man and the Machine,” was taken by Margaret Bourke-White in 1929 (see Fig- ure 14.4 ). It was probably part of the portfolio of industrial photographs that Bourke- White showed to the people she met during her trip to the Soviet Union. The fact that Mezhericher does not mention her by name—he simply points out that the photograph was taken by “an American photo-reporter”—is revealing: he is refusing to give her any publicity via the magazine’s readership. But he is also sending a very clear message to the officials who supported Bourke- White: work such as hers was in no way to be encouraged or to serve as a source of inspiration for Soviet photographers. Indeed, throughout his article, Mezhericher repeatedly insists on the need to eliminate “foreign influences” and on the fact that Soviet photography must “make a firm break with the bourgeois tendency to represent work as a burden and workers as an accessory to machines.” 33 Mezhericher’s position must be understood in the light of the debate on photography that was raging at the time in illustrated journals. Conscious of the major role photographs could and should play as illustrative and agitation material for the cause of Soviet construction, these journals sought to promote proletarian photography, in other words, amateur photography widely practiced by the masses—a collective practice that did not seek to promote the “stars” of photography. 34 In that respect, journalists were tireless in their encouragement of the setting-up of amateur photography clubs (fotokru- zhki) across the country, appealing to fotokory (foto-korrespondenty) through repeated calls for photographic images. Numerous articles appeared, describing the emergence and activities of amateur proletarian photography clubs not only in the USSR but also abroad. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Figure 14.4 Margaret Bourke-White, The Chrysler Corporation. Gears, 1929. Reproduced in Lev Mejericher’s article, Man and machine in photography, Sovetskoe Foto n° 21, 1930, p. 587. Photo: © National Library of Russia, Moscow/ © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White, Licensed by VAGA, New York 202 Ada Ackerman This promotion of proletarian photography was coupled with a deep suspicion of the photographic formalism embodied by the October group, whose work proved to be formally very similar to that of Bourke-White. Furthermore, critics like Mezhericher actively campaigned for photographs taken by Soviets to be more widely circulated abroad, to a far greater extent than they ever sought to introduce Soviets to the photographic work of foreign celebrities (Mezhericher went on to help run the SoiuzFoto Agency, which was set up in 1931 and was responsible for promoting Soviet photography abroad). 35 Only those photographers whose sympathy for communist ideology was undeniable, such as John Heartfield, saw their work widely reproduced by the Soviet press. These are all reasons why Bourke-White did not figure in the Soviet photographic journals of the day, which were largely dominated by the “proletarian” paradigm. Finally, we must take into account a more general suspicion in the Soviet Union of other countries and their “bourgeois influence,” which started with the “Great Purge.” It is little wonder then that in 1934, Sovetskoe Foto magazine published another disparaging article by Mezhericher on Bourke-White about the photomurals she had created for the foyer of National Broadcasting Company in New York. 36 Although the author acknowledged Bourke-White’s goodwill toward the USSR, he reproached her for a superficial understanding of the country:

The famous American photographer Margaret Bourke-White (who claims to be an “industrial reporter”) has completed a piece of work which is not devoid of interest. . . . We know Margaret Bourke-White from her two trips to the USSR in 1930 and 1931 when she took photographs in Moscow, Magnitogorsk, Dnepropetrovsk and Baku. Her travels gave rise to a lavishly illustrated book, Eyes on Russia , for which she also wrote the text. Margaret Bourke-White is a friend of the USSR but far from having a clear understanding of the processes which take place in our country, when she depicts them in her art, she often displays a lack of discernment and even of tact. On the whole her attitude towards the USSR has always remained the same: polite and benevolent. 37

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 There are no surprises in the rest of the article. As well as scoffing at Bourke- White’s pretensions of being an industrial photographer, Mezhericher is also a harsh critic of her photomurals. While emphasizing the fact that she shows signs of innovation by tackling this promising new format that the Soviets would do well to adopt—namely monumental photomurals—he insists that her artistic achievement is mediocre and primitive in terms of both content and composition, finding it barely superior in that respect to American commercial art. As with his previous article, Mezhericher was determined not to set Bourke-White up as an example to follow. This does not mean that Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 203 Bourke-White had no impact on Soviet cultural figures. Bourke-White may not have been fêted in proletarian circles, but she developed lasting relationships with certain avant-garde artists.

Bourke-White and the Soviet Avant-Gardists Bourke-White formed a strong friendship with Sergei Eisenstein (1898–1948), whom she met in New York in early June 1930 through Boris Skvirsky, when the filmmaker was on the verge of leaving for Hollywood. Skvirsky thought that Eisenstein might be able to help the young woman make inroads in the Soviet Union. 38 This meeting developed into a memorable photographic session where Bourke-White immortalized the filmmaker as he was being shaved in her studio at the top of the Chrysler Building. Eisenstein viewed the scene as a visual pun between the skyscraper and the razor, both being scraping instruments, as it is revealed by the caption he wrote later in German under his copy of the photograph: “S.M. Eisenstein. 61-te Etage des Chrysler Gebaudes (“Wolkenkratzer und Kinnkratzer”), New York. Photo von Marga- ret Bourke-White.” 39 During this photographic session, Eisenstein handed Bourke-White letters of recommendation addressed to influential Soviet figures. Later that year after her first trip to Russia, by way of a thank you for his help, she sent him an industrial photograph signed with the following dedication: “To Sergey Eisenstein, with my admiration and my regards.” 40 In 1940, she sent him a photograph of an owl from her series of animal photographs taken for Life magazine, which she described thus: “This is the eternal portrait of Eisen- stein” 41 (see Figure 14.6 ). This last portrait reveals a complicity between the two artists: while indulg- ing in one of the filmmaker’s favorite pastimes—spotting comic likenesses between humans and animals—it symbolizes Eisenstein as the philosophical Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016

Figure 14.5 Margaret Bourke-White, Untitled [Eisenstein being shaved at the terrace of Bourke-White’s studio in the Chrysler Building], 1930 Photo: © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White, Licensed by VAGA, New York. 204 Ada Ackerman

Figure 14.6 Margaret Bourke-White, An Owl, 1939 Copy offered to Eisenstein with the following mention: “This is the eternal portrait of Eisenstein” Photo: © RGALI, 1923-2-2283, Moscow/ © Estate of Margaret Bourke-White, Licensed by VAGA, New York

animal par excellence, the famous “Owl of Minerva.” This complicity is also evident in the dedication she wrote to him in a copy of Eyes on Russia on April 7, 1932: “To Sergey Eisenstein, the only man to be shaved in my studio, 800 feet above the sidewalk—the highest shave to be received by any living man.” 42 Bourke-White also took a keen interest in the fate of Eisenstein’s Mexican film, ¡Que Viva Mexico!, which, to his great annoyance, he was prevented from editing when the rolls of film were seized by his backer, Upton Sinclair. Intellectuals from around the world mobilized in an attempt to get the film returned to Eisenstein. In the United States, Experimental Cinema magazine proved very active in this campaign. It was Bourke-White, however, who was contacted by Seymour Stern, the editor of the magazine, to ask for the film director’s address in Moscow, anxious not to have to pass through official channels (which was understandable given the political furor surrounding the case): “We would greatly appreciate your aid in helping us to reach Eisenstein at once. We do not wish to write him through the usual Amkino channels.” 43 Stern asked the photographer to send the filmmaker, by way of moral support, the virulent manifesto published by Experimental Cinema in June 1933

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 condemning Thunder over Mexico, the film Sinclair printed from Eisenstein’s rushes. The letter Stern sent her shows that he considered her to be a reliable intermediary through whom he could strike up a relationship with Eisenstein and also someone who might be party to exclusive information:

The editors of Experimental Cinema are very anxious that Eisenstein should receive at least one copy of the Manifesto as soon as possible, and a copy of the newspaper article with it. . . . We know of your friendly relations with Eisenstein and we would be very happy if you would help us out. We want him to know that his students and followers in the United Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 205 States are putting up a fight to the finish to save his Mexican film. Inci- dentally, if there is any light you can shed on the Mexican project, we shall be very happy to hear from you. 44

Bourke-White sent the manifesto to the film director without further ado, taking up her role of go-between with gusto. Under the circumstances, it is hardly surprising that she sought out Eisenstein again when she returned to Russia in the summer of 1941, this time completing two new portraits of him at the Moscow Art Theater (MKhAT), as evidenced by the filmmaker’s notes: “Impressions of MKhAT. Bourke-White photographs us treading the boards.” 45 Through her friendship with Eisenstein, Bourke-White came into contact with his famous cameraman, Eduard Tisse (1897–1961). He initiated her into the art of filming in 1932 and later went on to help her shoot a film version of Eyes on Russia (1933), which constituted the one and only brief attempt by Bourke-White to go from still photography to moving images. 46 There is a collection of letters and telegrams recounting the long-distance collaboration between Bourke-White and Tisse. 47 With the help of Amtorg (American Trad- ing Corporation) and Intourist , Tisse provided Bourke-White with a number of images of Russia that she needed for her film. This is revealed, for example, in the telegram the photographer sent Tisse on February 17, 1933: “For completing scenario my movie need your help selecting available material Moscow Stop Have cooperation Amtorg Intourist here arranging transportation Stop Want Magnetogorsk [sic ] Tractorstroi any good industrial shots from newsreel or other stuff.” 48 Bourke-White trusted him entirely to select the best material available in Moscow: “I know you can make the selection just as well as I could have if I were there, in fact I believe you could make them better and I would be very willing to rely on your judgement.” 49 In Soviet cinema circles, Bourke-White also forged strong links with Vsevolod Pudovkin (1893–1953), a rival film director to Eisenstein, whom she met during her first trip to the Soviet Union. She wrote that he visited her in her hotel in Moscow, curious about her photographs. They apparently spent the whole night until dawn discussing the challenges of framing and lighting as well as Pudovkin’s designs for talkie films, then one of his main preoccupations. 50 The filmmaker left with a photograph of a Dalmatian. In

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 her correspondence with him, Bourke-White alludes delightedly to the discussions they had that night: “It was one the high spots of my stay [ in Moscow ]. I look forward to seeing you when I return to Russia again. I am reminded of you every time I run across prints of my dog picture. I am so pleased that you asked me for it. 51 In another letter, she informs him of the publication of Eyes on Russia:

Since I have returned to America, I have managed to buy your Film Tech- nique, which I have read with a great deal of pleasure. You will be interested to know that I have a book of my own, my first, coming out this fall. 206 Ada Ackerman It is to consist of about forty of my Russian pictures and is being published by Simon and Schuster. 52

So at least Pudovkin and Eisenstein were both familiar with Bourke-White’s photographic oeuvre. It is hard to know whether they were in any way inspired by it because Bourke-White herself was hugely influenced by Russian cinema, especially by films like October by Eisenstein. 53 But it is highly probable that these film directors showed her photographs to their respective circles of acquaintances, thus contributing to Bourke-White’s photographs becoming more widely known in the USSR. It is surprising to find that Bourke-White’s papers contain very few traces of contact with Soviet photographers. From that milieu, Bourke-White only seems to have corresponded with Sergei Tretiakov (1892–1937)—and then again, she probably met him through Eisenstein, who was one of his friends and colleagues at LEF . The futurist poet was very interested in photography and was himself passionate about taking photographs. He considered photography to be of equal importance to his literary and journalistic activity and extolled the virtues of the “literature of fact” so dear to constructivists. 54 Bourke-White met him during one of her stays in Moscow, after which she informed of her photographic activities, as revealed in a letter dated 1931: “I have often thought about the short talk I had with you at VOX [VOKS] , and I wondered if you went to Rostov, as you planned. I took a number of pictures of Sovkhoz no 2 Verblud. I am sending you a copy of the magazine Fortune , which contains some of the pictures.” 55 It is, however, more than likely that other Soviet photographers knew Bourke-White’s work. Alexander Rodchenko (1891–1956), for example, must have been familiar with her output, given the close attention he paid to foreign photography. 56 Moreover, in 1931, Bourke-White took out a subscription for him to Fortune magazine, which featured many of her Russian photographs. 57 But Rodchenko never mentions her, either in his published writings or in his archives. In reality, it would seem that Bourke-White learned more from Soviet photographers than vice versa. Indeed, some of the work she did after her trips to the Soviet Union is strongly reminiscent of that of her Russian colleagues, such as the low-angle shots she took of the WOR Radio Transmit- ting Tower (1935), which recall photographs of the Shukhov Tower taken in

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 1929 by Rodchenko (which in turn bear a strong resemblance to those taken in 1927 by Semen Friedliand). We should also mention her photograph of the Fort Peck Dam that appeared on the cover of the first issue of Life magazine (November 23, 1936). Its monumental and geometric composition is reminiscent of the industrial aesthetic of Soviet photographs taken to showcase the Five-Year Plan. Bourke-White was able during her trips to Russia to familiarize herself with the photographic output of her Soviet contemporaries through illustrated photographic journals such as Prozhektor , Ogonek, and 30 Dnei, as well as through exhibition catalogues and photographic almanacs such as the catalogue for an exhibition Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 207 of photographs organized by Ogonek in Moscow in 1930 or the Sovetskii foto- graficheskii al’manakh published by Sovetskoe Foto comprising 32 reproductions of works by the best photographers of the day (Arkady Shaikhet, Roman Kar- men, Boris Ignatovich, Alexander Rodchenko, Max Al’pert, and others). Bourke-White also had the opportunity to forge links with the world of theatre. Indeed, among her correspondence are numerous letters from a man named Rafael’ Rubinshtein, who worked with Alexander Tairov (1895–1950). Madly in love with the American photographer, Rubinshtein wrote to her regularly between 1931 and 1936. As several of his letters reveal, as well as tirelessly repeating his love for her, he also sent her literature on the Soviet theater, allowing her to maintain a link with the Soviet theatrical milieu:

Semionova [ the ballerina Ekaterina Semenova, photographed by Bourke- White ] and Tairoff were pleased to receive your regards and send you best regards. I remember you verry [sic ] often, because if you are far, your schadow [ sic ] is near and your picture is everywhere with me. 58 The waves of the Black sea are sending you best wishes. I and Alexan- droff [Grigori Alexandrov ] (who is coming to make pictures) send you our kind, friendly, cordialy [ sic ] regards. Accept regards from Tairoff. 59

Tairov himself kept up a friendly correspondence with the photographer, as evidenced in letters such as this one: “My dear friend! How I would love to hear your news about your life and work. When I was tidying up my papers recently, I came across your wonderful photographs. Alissa Koonen [Tairov’s wife and actress] and I remembered with great emotion your visits, your photographic sessions and our agreeable and friendly conversations.” 60 Finally, it is also worth noting that Bourke-White made a real impression on Boris Pil’niak (1894–1937), in whom she inspired great passion. This is revealed in a letter he sent to her in 1931, when he was in the United States working in Hollywood and was anxious to meet with her. He sent her a poem in Russian, which is translated more or less accurately into English by their mutual friend Joe Freeman:

Peggy, my joy! My little sun! My purity! [ . . . ] My little sun! My cosmos!

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Yesterday, I watched the sun setting on the prairie; the immense blood- red ball of fire was sinking behind the earth; it followed our train. It was an extraordinary sight. I watched the sun and asked myself why I call you my little sun. And I answered myself: it is because the sun is the reigning light of the world which opens the cosmos for me, and, like the cosmos, is immeasurable. I looked at the sun, and the world was filled by the sun and by my thoughts. But at that moment, your telegram arrived, and everything became luminous and clear; that little piece of yellow paper became greater than the sun; and the world was filled only by you. When I raised my eyes from the telegram—which I kissed—lo, the sun was no longer 208 Ada Ackerman upon the earth. Not from my own speculations but from your telegram did I finally understand why you are my little sun, why you are greater than the cosmos. 61

All of these examples show that Bourke-White forged solid links with the Soviet avant-garde, which endured beyond her trips to the Soviet Union. This regular contact, together with her repeated experiences in Russia, guaranteed her the status of expert, which in turn made it possible for her campaign for the Soviet Union to be officially recognized by the United States and meant that she could offer Americans a broader experience of Soviet culture. As her archives reveal, Bourke-White was a member of numerous associations set up to promote the Soviet Union, such as Friends of the Soviet Union, Soviet Russia Today, the Russian-American Institute, the Interna- tional Labor Defense, the Workers’ Film League, etc., to whom she gave lectures on Russia accompanied by slideshows of her photographs. She received numerous requests in relation to her Russian photographs for exhibitions, for book illustrations (for example, for Machine and Men in Russia by Louis Fischer, 1932), for newspaper articles, and even for the décor of the Soviet consulate in America in 1934, which consisted entirely of her photomural installations. Her photographs were sometimes used for explicitly diplomatic purposes, as was the case with her book USSR Photographs (1934), a sumptu- ous collection of photographs limited to 1,000 copies and containing 24 of her Russian prints. 62 Before the book even went to the printers, it had been arranged for a large number of copies to be bought by Amtorg , the Russo-American chamber of commerce, which was planning to use them as Christmas presents in 1935 (instead of caviar!). The book would serve as promotional material for Amtorg and as a celebration of Russo-American commercial and industrial links. Stalin was even given a copy. 63 Bourke- White’s work lent itself to this perfectly, given her more than benevolent stance toward the Soviet Union: “These photographs are brief glimpses into a vast land of tremendous and rapid change. . . . I plan to go back to the Soviet Union to take more pictures of this expanding new life, enlarging my photographic record of a courageous people advancing steadily toward a new society.” 64

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The photographs reproduced in this collection focus mainly on workers and peasants, moving away from the machinery that had so fascinated Bourke- White in Eyes on Russia. Formally, they are less daring than those in her previous collection on Russia , as if this book, which was mainly intended for Soviet dignitaries, represented a conscious decision by Bourke-White to conform to the Soviet photographic model of the day, which ruled out any pursuit of “formalism.” It transpired that Bourke-White had cut out and kept Mezhericher’s article attacking her that was published in 1934 in Sovetskoe Foto. All in all, Margaret Bourke-White played a key role in the cultural exchange between the Soviet Union and the United States. Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 209 Notes 1. This chapter has been translated from French by Susannah Rattee. It is a revised and an expanded version of the following text: “Le travail photographique de Margaret Bourke-White dans la culture soviétique,” Marie-Christine Autant- Mathieu dir., L’Étranger dans la littérature et les arts soviétiques (Villeneuve d’Ascq: Presses universitaires du Septentrion, 2014), 283–296. The author’s research received support from TransferS (laboratoire d’excellence, program “Investisse- ments d’avenir” ANR-10-IDEX-0001–02 PSL* and ANR-10-LABX-0099). 2. “I will also go to Russia if the Soviet Government can be persuaded to feed me while I am there.” Bourke-White to Charlotte Grauert, April 28, 1930. Margaret Bourke-White Papers, Box 20, 1, Syracuse University Library Collec- tions [hereafter SUL]. 3. Jonathan Silverman, For the World to See: The Life of Margaret Bourke-White (Lon- don: Secker and Warburg, 1983), 28. Note, however, that many amateur photographs were in circulation at the time, taken by various engineers and technicians employed by the Soviet Union. 4. Margaret Bourke-White, Eyes on Russia (New York, Simon and Schuster, 1931), 42. 5. Bourke-White to her mother, September 10, 1930, Syracuse University Library Special Collections, Margaret Bourke-White Papers, Box 2, 4. 6. Edward M. Newman, an early producer of travelogues, had obtained permission to film the Leningrad area in 1927, but his film has not survived except in illustrations from his book about it. Norman E. Saul , Friends or Foes? The United States and Russia, 1921–1941 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2006), 204; see also Newman, Seeing Russia (New York: Funk & Wagnalls, 1928). 7. Eyes on Russia , 22. 8. Synopsis on the cover of Eyes on Russia. 9. According to Paul McCellan, Bourke-White developed a political conscience after her trips to the USSR. See his Margaret Bourke-White in Russia: 1930–1932: The Effect of That Experi- ence on Her Life and Work , Master thesis (Syracuse University, 1981). 10. Eyes on Russia , 22. 11. “ FBI Correspondence and Reports on Bourke-White’s Status as a Communist ,” Vicki Goldberg Papers, box 1, SUL. 12. Eyes on Russia, 39–46. 13. In a report dated 1930, Intourist noted that American tourists made up 80 percent of the total number of foreign tourists visiting the Soviet Union. GARF (State Archive of the Russian Federation), f. 9612, op. 2 d. 2, l. 5. 14. Saul , 204. 15. Skvirsky to Fedor Petrov, June 6, 1930, f. R 5283, op. 3, d. 127, l. 2, GARF. 16. Korolchuk and Dobin (VOKS) to NKVD, August 16, 1930, R. 5283, op. 3, d. 127, l. 1. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 17. Eyes on Russia, 39. 18. Dobin, VOKS journal on welcoming foreigners in 1930, R 5283, op. 8, d. 82, l. 85, GARF. 19. Mezhlauk to Bourke-White, March 8, 1932, Box 30, Mezhlauk file 1, Bourke- White Papers, SUL. 20. Skvirsky to Petrov, June 6, 1930, R 5283, op. 3, d. 127, l. 1, GARF. Note that the magazine known as SSSR na stroike (The USSR in construction), which was launched in 1930, aspired to become the Communist equivalent of Fortune. Érika Wolf, “La revue L’URSS en construction en 1930,” Kristian Feigel- son dir., Caméra politique. Cinéma et stalinisme (Paris: Presses Sorbonne Nouvelle, 2005), 61–72. 210 Ada Ackerman 21. Dobin, VOKS journal, 1930. 22. Ibid., 87. 23. Maurice Hindus, preface dated June 5, 1931, Eyes on Russia, 15. 24. Hindus to Bourke-White October 15, 1930, Bourke-White Papers, box 22, 1–2, SUL. 25. Eyes on Russia, 63. 26. Ibid., 64–65. 27. Bourke-White, “ Where the Worker Can Drop the Boss ,” New York Times Magazine, March, 27 1932, 8–9, 23. The photograph is on p. 9. 28. To check, we systematically went through the following publications for the years 1930, 1931, 1932: periodicals: Daesh’ profimplan, Iskusstvo v massy, Zhurnalist, Kul’tura i byt, Za proletarskoe iskusstvo, Za rubezhom, Zvezda, Zemliia sovetskaia, Nashi dostizheniia, Novyi mir, Ogonek, Oktiabr’, Prozhektor, Proletarskoe Foto, SSSR na stroike, Tempy, Iunyi proletarii.; and daily newspapers: Za industryializatsiiiu, Komsomol’skaia Pravda, Fotokor, Pravda, Izvestiia, Moscow Daily News. 29. Mezhericher, “Chelovek i mashina na snimke,” Sovetskoe Foto 21 (November 1930): 586–88. 30. Ibid., 586. 31. Ibid. 32. Ibid. 33. Ibid. 34. Margaret Tupitsyn, The Soviet Photograph. 1924–1937 (London: Yale University Press, 1996), 47–63; Annette Melot-Henry, La Photographie soviétique de 1917 à 1945 (Paris: Presses Universitaires de Paris-Ouest, 2012), 146–49. 35. V. Stigneev, Vek fotografii: Ocherki istorii otchestvennoi fotografii. 1894–1994 (Mos- cow: 2009), 93. 36. Mezhericher, “Opyt monumental’noi fotografii v SShA,” Sovetskoe Foto 2 (March– April 1934), 36. 37. Ibid. 38. “That’s why I put her in contact with Eisenstein and the president of Amkino.” Skvirsky to Petrov, June 6, 1930, GARF. 39. Eisenstein Museum collection, Moscow. 40. Sergei Eisenstein Collection, f. 1923, op. 2, d. 2283, RGALI. 41. Ibid. 42. Copy at the Eisenstein Museum, Moscow. 43. Stern to Bourke-White, March 16, 1933, box 47, Bourke-White Papers, SUL. 44. To Bourke-White, May 24, 1933, ibid. 45. Eisenstein Collection, f. 1923, op. 2, d. 1060,RGALI, cited by Vladimir Zabrodin, in Eizenshtein, kino, vlast’, zenshchini (Moscow: NLO, 2011), 457. 46. Vicki Goldberg, Margaret Bourke-White: A Biography (New York: Harper & Row, 1986), 134. 47. Bourke-White Papers, “Eduard Tisse,” Box 52, 1933, SUL. 48. Ibid. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 49. Letter of February 20, 1933, 2–3, ibid. 50. Eyes on Russia, 69–70. 51. Bourke-White to Pudovkin, March 6, 1931, box 40, 1, Bourke-White Papers, SUL. 52. Ibid., August 10, 1931. 53. Goldberg, Margaret Bourke-White, catalogue exposition, New York, International Center of Photography, 1988, 11. 54. Sergei Tretiakov, “Foto-apparat—zhurnalistu!,” Sovetskoe Foto 9 (1927): 260–262. 55. Bourke-White to Tretiakov, March 6, 1931, box 52, 1, Bouke-White Papers, SUL. 56. As he claims, for example, in “Puti sovremennoi fotograf,i,” Novyi Lef 9 (1928): 32. Margaret Bourke-White and Soviet Russia 211 57. E-mail exchange with author, Aleksandr Lavrent’iev, in charge of Rodchenko’s archives. 58. Tairov to Bourke-White, March 12, 1932, box 43, 4, Bourke-White Papers, SUL. 59. Postcard dated September 3, 1933, ibid . 60. Tairov to Bourke-White, 1944, f. 2328, op. 1, d. 684, l. 3, RGALI. 61. Piln’iak to Bourke-White, April 10, 1931, Box 40, 3, Bourke-White Papers, SUL. 62. Margaret Bourke-White, USSR Photographs (New York: Argus Press, 1934). 63. R. Douglas, Argus Press, to Ethel Fratkin, Bourke-White’s secretary, March 15, 1935, box 7, Bourke-White Papers, SUL. 64. Bourke-White, USSR Photographs, 1. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 15 Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR, 1933–1945 * An Interpretation

Vladimir V. Sogrin

Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s 1933 inauguration was a landmark event in relation to the United States’ domestic and foreign policies. Historians are divided in their evaluation of the genesis of Roosevelt’s international political strategy, as in the case of his domestic political agenda. Some believe that Roosevelt was a pragmatist, who subjected his decisions regarding international politics to the dictates of the present time and the state of the economy. Others argue that the president, a Democrat, supported an ideology that was guided by international political action. The author deems Roosevelt a pragmatic Wilsonian who perceived and substantially modernized the tradition of liberal-messianic “idealism—internationalism” supported by Woodrow Wilson. Wilson’s “internationalist” ideas did not enjoy popularity in the United States in the 1920s or 1930s, and, aspiring for political office, Roosevelt did not attempt to highlight them. Not backing away inwardly from Wilson’s foreign policy convictions, Roosevelt turned to the voting public with grounded, realistic principles and recommendations. He made repeated, important, and necessary concessions to isolationism and was highly pragmatic. 1 In the second half of the 1930s, isolationists were able to pass four bills through Congress concerning neutrality that became laws, which strengthened the principles of “noninterference” in European conflicts. Even though public opinion in the United States held that the authoritarian and totalitarian regimes were mostly responsible for the escalation of conflicts in Europe, isolationists successfully highlighted the role of both France and Britain’s imperial ambitions. 2 Roosevelt, an anglophile himself, considered Nazism a major potential source

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 of global tragedy since the moment of Hitler’s rise to power and thus could not ignore these dispositions and influences. From the end of the 1930s, American isolationist sentiments began to wane. However, the main isolationist thesis—that not in any circumstance should the United States enter a new world war—remained dominant until the December 7, 1941, Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. 3 At the time of his inauguration, the main problem facing Roosevelt was finding possibilities for withdrawal from the economic crisis, a task hindered enormously by the lack of international agreements. Secretary of State Cordell Hull suggested an internationalist approach: collaboration and coordination of action with Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 213 the leading world powers. It was with these sentiments that he headed the American delegation at the international economic conference in London in June 1933. Yet from the moment the conference began, Roosevelt, drawing up instructions for Hull, heeded the input from other advisors. They tried to convince the president that, due to the economic egoism of European powers, the United States should rely on unilateral actions and grant definitive preference to national interests. Roosevelt was especially outraged by the Europeans’ demand to forgive their war debts and not to remove the dollar from the gold standard, leaving it as the main currency and stabilizing the global economy. On July 2, 1933, Roosevelt rejected their demands in a radio message to the London conference. The broadcast became public in the United States on July 4, and many Americans, among whom the isolationists continued to pre- dominate, saw it as “a new Declaration of Independence.” 4 A deadly blow was dealt to the London conference. As a fundamental strategy of foreign policy concerning the U.S. withdrawal from the crisis, Roosevelt selected unilateral economic treaties with interested foreign governments. The dollar was removed from the gold standard, and European powers announced their rejection of further payments of war debts to the United States, resulting in a default in 1934. Roosevelt reacted negatively. However, among those for whom exceptions were made, ironically, was the USSR, which had no intention of repaying the war debts incurred by the tsarist and provisional governments. The United States’ offer of favorable economic terms, as well as an establishment of diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union in the middle of November 1933, in historical retrospect, seems astonishing. Even during the periods of peaceful coexistence, détente, and the post-Soviet era, the United States frequently demonstrated a more hostile attitude toward the Soviet Union and Russia. The phenomenon of Soviet-American relations in the 1930s is explained by the concrete historical reality of the time and the personal position of Roosevelt, who demonstrated remarkable political willpower in breaking American stereotypes of the Soviet Union. These stereotypes, as the reports and observations of Soviet diplomats in the United States testify, in general realistically reflected Soviet reality 5 (although Soviet diplomats did not acknowledge this, calling the American perception of the USSR hostile propaganda).

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The Soviets’ militant atheism provoked a sharp, mass dislike in many Amer- icans. Collectivization and the Stalinist repressions of the peasantry provoked no less disapproval. Americans did not know the true extent or the character of the Stalinist repressions, in particular, the Holodomor famine, the peak of which hit in 1933. However, the information available was sufficient for the American farmers to prefer Hitler’s Nazism (which had not yet proceeded to mass repression) over Stalinist socialism. 6 The main trade union organization in the United States, the American Federation of Labor, firmly opposed recognizing the Soviet Union, for the obvious reason that Soviet workers lacked an understanding of elementary economic and political rights. In sum, the 214 Vladimir V. Sogrin United States and the USSR appeared to be incompatible civilizations, and the recognition of the Soviet Union was absolutely unacceptable. By his own initiative almost immediately after his inauguration Roosevelt, having spoken out against the anti-Soviet orthodoxy of the Republican Party and against the anti-Soviet opinions of Wilson, aimed for a prompt recognition of the USSR. As Soviet diplomats reported to Moscow, having spent the autumn of 1933 in Washington for negotiations, Roosevelt’s definite accomplishment was that, at that year’s conference, the AFL refused for the first time to pass an anti-Soviet resolution, and American churches abstained from criticizing aggressive Soviet atheism. 7 Roosevelt demonstrated flexibility regarding pre-Soviet Russia’s debts to the United States. Americans agreed to include them as additional interest on future loans to the Soviet Union. In order to establish diplomatic relations with the USSR, Roosevelt made serious compromises. He skillfully, and at times with cunning, embellished the image of Soviet daily life, smoothed over difficult problems, and ignored many aspects of Stalinist totalitarianism. The result came in record time. The negotiations concerning recognition and the establishment of diplomatic relationships took in essence only two weeks. How can one explain Roosevelt’s favorable position toward the Soviet Union? The general reason is Roosevelt’s profound realization of concrete historic realities, which demanded cooperation with the USSR. Among these, historians often place first Roosevelt’s understanding that it was impossible to continue ignoring one of the largest nations in the world. However, it follows to recognize other important concrete historical reasons. One of these is the possibility of repairing the U.S. economic hardships with the help of the USSR, which firmly and successfully had settled on the course of industrialization. Thus, the USSR, unlike the leading European democracies, repaid American supplies. Raymond Moley, the closest advisor and ally of the Ameri- can president, pointed out in a letter to M. M. Litvinov, the Soviet minister of foreign affairs: “Americans. . . have also begun to understand, that when you bought mowers, tractors, and other things, you paid for them.” 8 Americans recognized that the USSR was interested in acquiring American technology and other industrial goods in large quantities and for a good price. The other concrete historical reason regarded foreign policy. In the course of negotiations with the Soviet side, both Roosevelt and Hull indicated the pres-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ence “of two main sources of military threat” and made it clear that, in Ameri- can eyes, these were Japan and Germany. 9 These countries were also the two main threats for the USSR. The coming together of the position of both sides through the recognition of a common enemy was complete. It is true that Mos- cow and Washington thought differently about means of defense. Moscow, as far as it conveyed this, supported an alliance with Washington against Japan in the Far East. Washington, however, was not ready for such measures. It is obvious that for Roosevelt the USSR was the lesser evil when faced with Japan and Ger- many. In terms of foreign policy, recognition of the USSR seemed to be a real means of strengthening the American position in opposition to a greater evil. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 215 Roosevelt’s flexible position in the negotiations about recognizing the USSR signified a full realization of the United States’ national interests and did not change his fundamental assessments of the Soviet Union as a civilization hostile to the United States. Many authors, especially Soviet and Russian political commentators, repeatedly quote the high praise that Roosevelt, as well as Churchill, gave to Stalin. However, Roosevelt’s true position is characterized by evaluations that called Stalin and Soviet leaders dictators and painted Soviet civilization as “the complete opposite” of American life. The only concession that Roosevelt allowed in relations with the USSR was that, in his assessment, it was a lesser evil compared to Nazi Germany. After the German invasion of the Soviet Union in the beginning of September 1941, Roosevelt, speaking out critically against those Americans who viewed the USSR positively, stated: “in my opinion, the fact is that Russia is a dictatorship like the German dictatorship. At the same time, I believe that the Russian dictatorship is less dangerous for other nations than the German . . . I believe, that the survival of Russia in its entirety is less of a threat . . . for human civilization, than the survival of aspects of the German dictatorship.” 10 Recognizing the USSR in 1933 and ensuring it a regime of openness in economic relations with the United States, the American government did not consider such relations determined once and for all and exercised maximal caution. In response to the USSR’s desire, expressed in 1935, to prolong such a regime for twenty years, an American negotiator, Soviet Ambassador to the United States A. A. Troianovskii, reported, “joking, said that maybe in ten years Hitler would be in Moscow.” In response the Soviet ambassador “also in jest said that, Hitler, this or another, would sooner be in Washington.” 11 Things did not exceed this exchange of “jokes,” and the Soviets did not succeed in achieving their desired goal. At the same time, neither Roosevelt nor American power charmed the USSR. In comparison with the Republicans, Roosevelt was seen as the lesser evil in the Soviet political atmosphere. There was not another, even lesser evil that could to come to power in the United States. On the eve of the 1936 presidential elections, the Soviet ambassador remarked in an analytical note to Moscow that Roosevelt would be profitable to the Soviet Union as president. He then characterized Roosevelt as a calculating politician who, after the maneuvers of the election, would commit either to the “left” or “right,” 12

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 depending on the sway of the popular vote. In the same note, the ambassador clearly identified the main reasons why the USSR should “cultivate a friendship with the United States.” One reason was economic:

The slogan: ‘catch up and overtake’ at the present time carries a very concrete character to catch up with and overtake the United States, thus in other countries (Germany, England, and France) we can get something, although not much. The US in the past few years as far as technology is concerned, has taken major strides forward, and we need to make concerted efforts first and foremost to keep up, and then eventually to overtake them. 216 Vladimir V. Sogrin Another reason dealt with international relations.

In the nearing world war Japan will side with Germany. A divide of world dominance between these powers is also unacceptable for the US, as is the possibility of German dominance. For American imperialism, being surrounded by the aggressive imperialisms of Germany and Japan is suf- focation. Such danger compels the US to turn to our side. Naturally, we should cultivate a friendship with the US in order to facilitate and accel- erate their definitive move to our side. 13

In historical retrospect, such goals could be perceived as utopian. But, for Soviet politicians relying on their Bolshevik mentality (as the widely known Bolshevik slogan “there are no heights, the Bolsheviks cannot conquer” demonstrates), it did not seem this way. Roosevelt’s and the United States’ economic and foreign policy goals in relations with the USSR were different; they were more modest and realistic but definitely positive. This was sufficient for the rapid establishment of diplomatic relations between the two countries in November 1933. Accords concerning these relations were signed on Novem- ber 16, 1933. Afterward, the United States and USSR enjoyed a euphoric “honeymoon,” which lasted almost two years. Then a cooling of relations began, interrupted by brief thaw periods. Undoubtedly, the events of June 22 and December 7, 1941, caused a positive break. The first American ambassador to the USSR, William Bullitt, had many good intentions. He went to great lengths to facilitate the real entry of Ameri- can capital into the Soviet market, investments in the economy, and especially the top-priority project of Stalin’s five-year plans. 14 Bullitt’s enthusiasm gave way to a cooling of disillusionment with, and hatred for, the USSR in 1935, to a significant degree in reaction to the beginnings of Stalin’s mass political repressions. Bullitt began to see Stalin’s regime as more evil than Hitler’s, a view that did not coincide with Roosevelt’s values. Thus, the first U.S. ambassador to the USSR was replaced. The second U.S. ambassador, Joseph Davies, having begun his duties in November 1936, was a firm advocate of strengthening ties with Moscow. In improving relations with the USSR, he had to overcome the opposition of the American State Department, especially that of the Eastern European Depart- 15

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ment and its head, Robert Kelly. Members of the “Kelly school,” among them George Kennan, who later became a diplomatic celebrity, created obstacles for Davies in Moscow with his advisors. However, Roosevelt was on Davies’ side, considering the ambassador’s position more consistent with the United States’ national interests. Davies did not approve of the Stalinist purges, but, unlike Kennan and other of his followers from the “Kelly school,” he believed that the purges were objectively directed against Germany and Japan and that attempts at U.S. isolation of the USSR would hurt the former’s strategic goals. Roosevelt heeded Davies’ logic but not the State Department’s. It is not accidental (Roosevelt’s direct Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 217 instructions on this account are missing) that the State Department was reor- ganized in 1937 and its “anti-Soviet” East European Department liquidated. 16 The sharp escalation in 1938 of the conflict between the United States and Japan fueled Roosevelt’s interest in further strengthening U.S.-Soviet relations. Bypassing the State Department but relying on Davies, Roosevelt even tested the possibility of some form of military cooperation with the USSR (for example, the exchange of intelligence). Ultimately, this maneuver was abandoned, but the Soviet leadership’s hope for a real military cooperation with the United States grew. Stalin expected help from the United States in creating a modern navy (without American technology, this would have been difficult). Supporters of Roosevelt’s line were ready to contribute, but the iron position of the naval ministry and Admiral William Leahy dismantled their plans. Leahy’s argument that the United States should devote all possible resources to strengthen their naval power was not impenetrable. 17 Among the reasons for not contributing to strengthening U.S.-Soviet relations was the Soviet leadership’s strict refusal to repay pre-Revolutionary debts to the United States. Although the debt was restructured, reduced to $75 million from $188 million (the U.S. Treasury Department even calculated it as more than $600 million), and included additional interest on American loans, the Soviets did not want to pay. Simultaneously, they insisted on a radical increase in American loans. Roosevelt found this unacceptable. 18 His limited concessions to the Soviet Union during this period were determined, among other things, to a significant degree by his continued commitment to the “appeasement” strategy in the relations to the two main common opponents of Moscow and Washington. The Eastern hemisphere became increasingly meaningful for American foreign policy. It became impossible to avoid intervention in Eastern affairs. Europe occupied a leading position, despite the anti-Europeanism of the isolationists—Western Europe more so than Eastern Europe. Of the two international threats, noted in the negotiations with the USSR in November 1933, German Nazism became the greater danger for the United States. The mili- tarized fascist block targeted communism as its major opponent, but it viewed Western democracies, including the United States, as no better. Japan stood as the second major threat for the United States after Germany. In the 1930s, Japan was loyal to the principle of “Asia (especially China) is

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 for the Japanese” and demonstrated certain similarities to the Monroe Doc- trine in its own Asian politics. Great Britain, one of the main players in the Asian-Pacific region, in essence opted to leave the game. Other players, the USSR and the United States, due to their own interests, did not back down. The USSR acted with energy, versatility, and refinement. 19 The U.S. political relationship with Japan, as with Germany, was also refined but in a higher degree of contradiction, which defended national interests especially through the tactics isolationism and neutrality . Many historians, including Russian and Soviet, believe that these tactics, toward which Roosevelt was indulgent, were objectively beneficial to German 218 Vladimir V. Sogrin and Japanese aggressors and should be included among the factors that led to WWII. Another group of historians (whose position the author shares) argues that it was impossible for Roosevelt to act in relation with Germany and Japan any differently given the conditions of the American democratic regime and the majority of the political class and proisolationist voters. In solidarity with them, the president did not miss the chance to enlighten the nation concerning true prospects in relations with Germany and Japan, as well as actions toward them. This enlightenment of the people in the end helped Roosevelt, at the necessary moment, to change and to break radically American foreign policy approaches and traditions. Only on a superficial level does it seem that the United States and its dedication to isolationism and neutrality had primary responsibility for Hitler’s expansion. In fact, the blame can be attributed to the two major European democracies: France and especially Great Britain, which played a significant role in European affairs and, consequently, in world relations with Germany. It was they who defined the strategy known as appeasement in relation to Hit- ler’s Germany. Roosevelt and the United States accepted the principles of this strategy, but the deciding role in its genesis and realization belong to Great Britain and France. Britain, with its commitment to a balance of power, hoped to mold, as the two main European adversaries, the USSR and Germany and to stage a confrontation. In all, this was seen as the optimal realpolitik for West- ern democracies. Nazi Germany posed a lesser threat to Great Britain than did the USSR. This distinguished the British politics of Neville Chamberlain in the 1930s from Roosevelt’s, for whom Stalin was always the lesser evil.20 Great Britain and its centuries of experience as the world’s and Europe’s “laughing third party” conducted sophisticated politics in relations with both Germany and the USSR. At the end of the 1930s, when the European balance radically changed in favor of Germany, Britain tried to play the Soviet card against it. However, Stalin proved no less clever a politician than Chamberlain. Speaking on March 10, 1939, at the Eighteenth Congress of the VKP(b), 21 he divided the leading capitalist countries into aggressive (the main being Germany) and nonaggressive (including Britain, France, and the United States). Highlighting the Soviet choice to side with nonaggressive countries, he nevertheless firmly asserted that in battle, they would never be able to “fight through proxies.” 22

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 The “Pact of Four” of summer 1933 was the first notable attempt of Great Britain to appease Germany during Roosevelt’s presidency. Although Hitler was already in power, Britain acted as it had with the liberal-democratic Wei- mar Republic. In June 1935, Britain and Germany signed a naval agreement, which allowed Germany to build a surface fleet equivalent to 35 percent “of the British Empire’s general naval power” and also to have a submarine fleet equal to the British. The tonnage of the German navy grew 5.5 times and reached that of the French navy. In 1935, Britain and France had already signed secret agreements with fascist Italy, which sanctioned the latter’s hostile takeover of Ethiopia. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 219 The American public, guided by the principles of isolationism and viewing Europe as a civilization of wars, responded neutrally to these processes, which in practice encouraged the strategy pursued by Britain and France. Roo- sevelt did not engage in a confrontation or a debate with the public. When, in 1935, the Negus of Ethiopia Haile Selassie turned to the United States for protection against Mussolini’s aggressions, American lawmakers responded with the first law on neutrality. It prohibited the export of arms to the war- waging countries, which played into the hands of the aggressor. In 1936, the second law on neutrality banned the export of arms to countries outside of the American continent, in which internal armed conflicts were taking place. In the case of Spain, where in the beginning of the year civil war broke out, this played into Franco’s hands, helped by Hitler and Mussolini. The position of American lawmakers, besides traditional foreign policy principles, was influenced by the view that the lawful government of Spain, in their opinion, was “deeply contaminated by communism.” 23 In 1937, the U.S. Congress adopted the third law on neutrality. It included an innovation initiated by business representatives and designed to support the climb of the national economy out of the recession. 24 Roosevelt tried to challenge isolationist orthodoxy in his “quarantine” speech on October 4, 1937. 25 Despite the speech’s metaphoric character, its vagueness, and lack of concrete suggestions, it drew fierce criticism. Roosevelt was blamed for intending to pull the United States into war, repeating Wil- son’s criminal sin. The president had to clarify his position. In a Fireside Chat on October 12, he already did not require quarantines for the “sick” but did not reject protecting peace beyond American borders. 26 One of the “drastic measures” for a session of the League of Nations planned at the end of October intended to review and condemn the Japanese aggression against China. However, Japan, like Germany, by that time had left the League and ignored it. In December 1937, the Japanese “accidentally” sunk an American gunboat. At the beginning of 1938, Germany absorbed Aus- tria into the Third Reich. Americans accepted the Japanese apology, and, in relation to Austria, Secretary of State Hull declared that for his country this was not a subject “of serious concern.” 27 In the course of the following two years, the president needed to delicately maneuver between compromises with the country’s domineering isolationist mood and the strategy of containing

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the European and Asian aggressors. In the case of Germany, he relied on the efforts of France and the continuously more active Britain, which both pursued the strategy of “appeasement.” Britain entertained false hopes of chan- neling Hitler’s aggression to the East. For this sake on September 30, 1938, the Czech Sudeten region was given to Hitler in Munich (under the pretext that this region with a predominant German population should “in fairness” belong to Germany). He sent a telegram to the British prime minister, which read “Good Man.” 28 Roosevelt did not rely on Britain as far as Japan was concerned. More than anything, he mistrusted Britain’s Asian politics. London behaved passively 220 Vladimir V. Sogrin in the Far East. The United States had to devise means for containing Japan, while simultaneously avoiding aggravating relations with the isolationist majority of the political class and the public. Japan needed to be restrained already because the conditions of a severe economic crisis aggressively pushed the United States out of the Asian market. Even in the Philippines, an Ameri- can colony, Japan, during the global crisis, established itself as dominant in a number of market areas (primarily, the export of textiles). 29 Tokyo buttressed its leading economic position in Asia by increasing military strength and expanding the empire territorially. American businesses primarily oriented toward Asian markets demanded strong sanctions against Tokyo (canceling the U.S.-Japanese trade agreement of 1911, the embargo on supplying Ameri- can high technology to Japan, and so on). In theory, there was a possibility of a military-political alliance with the USSR against Japan, especially since Moscow demonstrated its readiness for one. But significant practical measures against the Japanese Empire did not enter Roosevelt’s calculations (a military alliance with the Stalinist regime, from the point of view of not only isolationism but also of the attitude of the majority of the U.S. population toward the USSR, in general could not be considered). The strategy of confrontation with Japan chosen by Roosevelt included as the main means a rapid increase of American naval power in the Pacific region. Already in June 1933, Roos- evelt announced by presidential decree a program that would build a modern navy, costing $238 million. From this moment, the program was successfully completed, subsequently expanding and developing. The U.S. Navy and navy aviation had the ability at the end of the 1930s to confront the Japanese aggressions in Asia, but the Unites States preferred “to keep its gunpowder dry.” Its military-political preferences showed all the clearer. In April 1939, Roosevelt turned to Hitler and Mussolini seeking a guarantee of nonaggression in the course of ten years to thirty concretely named countries of Europe and America. Hitler used the message in order to ridicule the despised Roosevelt in the German Reichstag. Hitler succeeded as an orator, but Roosevelt accomplished the task he had set for himself— to present the Fuhrer as an aggressor “before the only audience that, for the moment, to Roosevelt—the American people.” 30 In September 1939, after Hitler’s invasion of Poland and the declaration of war against Germany by Britain and France in compliance with existing treaties between them and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Poland, Roosevelt openly took an anti-Nazi stance. Having called an emergency session of Congress, he convinced it to pass a fourth, more moderate law on neutrality (November 4, 1939). At the same time, Roosevelt refused, despite the opinion of the American press concerning the USSR’s move to the German side and Moscow’s condemnation of France and Britain, to sever diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union. Having agreed that the Soviet Union was “a dictatorship like all other dictatorships in the world” he did not start “to burn bridges” between Moscow and Washington. He even refused to lend military aid “to the small and courageous people of Finland” (the only European country who had paid in full Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 221 the debts to the United States incurred during WWI, in November 1939 was the target of aggression from Stalin’s regime). 31 Roosevelt’s realpolitik did not place the USSR on the same level as Germany and reserved the possibility to reconstruct the balance of power, where German Nazism and Soviet communism were enemies and the USSR was the lesser evil, with which it was possible to forge an alliance against a still greater evil. Meanwhile, from 1939 to 1941, the USSR seriously modified its foreign policy priorities, which influenced the decline of the Western democracies’ strategic positions in the fight against Nazism. Stalin did not discount the possibility of a German invasion of the Soviet Union after signing the pact on August 23. However, he no longer considered Germany a major aggressor. He characterized the emerging world war as a battle between the wealthy and less- wealthy imperialist countries. The rich countries formally declared him the main guilty party for this reason. Therefore, on September 3, 1939, Germany did not declare war on Britain and France but in fact quite the opposite. The Soviet government sent congratulatory telegrams to Germany in the event of its victory over Britain and France and gave its population the impression that the initiators of the war were France, Britain, and Poland. The crux of Stalin- ist realpolitik was that the war between Germany and the Western democracies pitted two anti-Soviet systems against each other and delayed Hitler’s crusade against communism. Stalin was pleased to play the classic English role of “the laughing third party” and watch as his main enemies weaken and destroy each other. 32 On June 22, 1940, France ceased resistance against Germany and signed the most humiliating surrender in its history. Hitler defeated the small Euro- pean democracies in the blink of an eye. The balance of forces between the Western democracies and Nazism fundamentally shifted in favor of the latter. Roosevelt, believing his country to be the main guarantor of democracy in the world, as befitted a true Wilsonian, could not help but react to such realities. Democracy had to be saved, and the first step was to assist the only remaining democratic combatant on the battlefield, Great Britain. In 1940, Roosevelt took decisive steps to overcome the resistance of his main domestic opponents, the isolationists. His significant anti-isolationist measure was a bill introducing general conscription during peacetime. In the summer of 1941, four months before the U.S.’s entrance into the war, the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 House of Representatives passed it by a one-vote margin. Even earlier, on March 11, 1941, also on Roosevelt’s initiative, Congress approved the Lend- Lease bill, which provided arms to countries, particularly Great Britain, whose defense coincided with the U.S.’s vital interests. America agreed with the main strategic task proclaimed by Roosevelt: for the United States to become “the Great Arsenal of Democracy.” Roosevelt did not limit himself to formulating strategic military objectives. In the first half of 1940, he defined a global civilizational objective for the United States. That is, he began the same undertaking as Wilson in 1917– 1918. It was not simply realpolitik but idealism and internationalism on the 222 Vladimir V. Sogrin Wilsonian model. On May 27, 1941, Roosevelt gave a radio address to North and South America, which was heard by 67 million people. In the address, he strongly rejected the Nazi world order as well as the Versailles-Washington system and American isolationism. The President equated isolation with cowardice. In January 1941, Roosevelt outlined the liberal-democratic doctrine of the new world order. It included four freedoms: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. In answer to potential accusation of idealism and utopianism, he answered, “Is such a world impossible of attainment? Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States, the Emancipation Proclamation and every other milestone in human progress—all were ideals which seemed impossible of attainment—and yet they were attained.” 33 Of these four documents, three were American and one was English. The new world order, according to Roosevelt, would be based on American values. This was the leitmotif of his ideology during WWII. Several months before his May 1941 speech, he called upon his fellow citizens, “we defend and we build a way of life, not for America alone, but for all mankind. Ours is a high duty, a noble task.” 34 On June 22, 1941, the configuration of WWII radically changed. Hitler, having despaired of conquering England, made a key strike against the USSR. This military-strategic maneuver shocked Stalin and astonished Western politicians. Several influential American politicians, including future-president Harry Tru- man, believed that now the Americans should take the position of the “laughing third party” and allow fascism and communism to weaken each other. Roosevelt considered this position irresponsible. On June 24, he firmly stated, “Of course we are going to give all the aid that we possibly can to Russia.” Effectively, he repeated word for word Churchill’s statement on the evening of June 22. 35 An anti-Nazi alliance was formed, overcoming disagreements step-by-step, through strategic and tactical agreements, concessions, and compromises. From the very beginning, Roosevelt was concerned with the elaboration of the ideological foundations of the anti-Nazi alliance, which would determine the contours and even the foundation of the future world order. A tactical step within the alliance that he repeated time and again almost without any changes was to reach first an agreement with Churchill and then offer it to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Stalin for consideration. From an ideological point of view, Roosevelt’s doctrines had a liberal-democratic character, but, ironically, Stalin approved of many of them. One explanation is obvious: in exchange, Stalin received from his democratic allies important geopolitical concessions and generous economic assistance from the United States. A second is that Stalin did not grant the doctrines, developed for the future, any serious importance. The most important objective was to achieve military strategic success, after which political bargaining could be renewed. Roosevelt and Churchill jointly drafted and signed the Atlantic Charter in August 1941, which became the foundational liberal-democratic document. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 223 The ideology and concept of the “American Century,” international development under the auspices of the United States, is traditionally attributed to the newspaper magnate Henry Luce, who published an article entitled “The American Century” in Time magazine in February 1941, later reprinted as a separate brochure. 36 However, the concept was actively developed by many internationalists. In America, the main inspiration for the concept was Roo- sevelt himself. In form and content, the Atlantic Charter echoed Wilson’s Fourteen Points, though it consisted of only eight points and developed Wil- son’s doctrine in light of Roosevelt’s ideological and practical experiments of the 1930s. The first point was that the anti-Hitler coalition rejected any expansion, “territorial or other.” The second point argued that any border changes must “accord with the freely expressed wishes of the people concerned.” The third asserted the “right of all peoples to choose the form of government under which they will live” and the need to return “sovereign rights and self-government to those who have been forcibly deprived of them.” The fourth established the American “open door” policy: all countries, regardless of size or political strength, should have equal access to the world market and resources. The fifth point, absent from traditional Wilsonian ideology and reflecting Roosevelt’s social liberalism, asserted the signatories’ desire “to bring about the fullest collaboration between all nations in the economic field with the object of securing for all, improved labor standards, economic advancement and social security.” The sixth point, also purely Roosevelt’s, demanded that the new world order ensure all nations “freedom from fear and want.” The seventh point asserted international freedom of movement. The eighth paragraph, typically Wilsonian, demanded complete renunciation of the use of force in international relations. 37 By the end of September 1941, the charter had been approved by fifteen countries, including the USSR. Following the entry of the United States into the war in December 1941, the anti-Hitler coalition took on the character of allied relations and obligations, and its brains and motor was the “Big Three”: the USSR, the United States, and Great Britain. Though relations within the Big Three were equal, no one missed an opportunity to elevate their own interests, evident by the disagreements and confrontations between the three countries. There was much greater unity between the United States and the United Kingdom than either country had with the USSR. Bilateral contacts between Roosevelt and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Churchill were more frequent than trilateral, and the two frequently would agree on a position before engaging in tripartite talks. However, their unity also did not preclude fundamental differences. The foremost disagreement regarded colonialism. Following Wilson’s pre- cepts, as well as his own beliefs, Roosevelt considered the elimination of colonies as one of the most important goals of the coalition, in development of the principles of the Atlantic Charter. Churchill, on the other hand, repeatedly emphasized that England was not included in this goal, and as he stated in November 1942, he did not become Prime Minister in order to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire. The other principal disagreement was 224 Vladimir V. Sogrin over the “backbone” of optimum international order to be established following the mutual victory over fascism. Churchill relied on traditional realpolitik and methods such as the division of the world into spheres of influence and the balance of power. Roosevelt, following Wilson, believed that these methods had been exhausted, and they should be replaced by the collegial leadership of the victorious countries. Wishing to preserve principles dear to him, and without Roosevelt’s knowledge, Churchill began bargaining with Stalin, also a devotee of traditional realpolitik, over future spheres of influence. The United States and Great Britain seriously differed regarding the collective leadership of the postwar world. Roosevelt, in contrast to Wilson, who did not allocate a “force” mechanism to the League of Nations, hatched the idea of the “four policemen,” who would be responsible for the future neutral- ization of aggressors. He included the USSR, the United States, the United Kingdom, and China. Churchill did not believe that China deserved such a high honor. Roosevelt, for his part, could not hide his hostility to the “Free French” General Charles de Gaulle, whose policies he viewed as excessively ambitious and arrogant. Churchill believed that if any country deserved the fourth place in the quartet of the world’s police, it was a liberated France. During the initial period of the anti-Nazi coalition, the main difference between Great Britain and the United States regarded the opening of a second front and the strategy for military assistance to the USSR. Churchill’s and the British cabinet’s view on the timing and location for opening a second front was clearly driven by national and imperial considerations. The American strategic and tactical considerations were more favorable to the Soviet Union. The “Big Three” agreed on the possibility of opening a second European front in 1942. Further practical considerations were resolved in negotiations between Great Britain and the United States. The American opinion was to open a second front as soon as possible to launch a powerful joint attack on Hitler’s forces in Western Europe. Britain, on the contrary, believed that the second front should be opened in Africa, where the German army under the command of Rommel was capturing London’s colonial possessions. Later, the Americans offered to open a second European front in 1943, to coincide with Britain’s crossing of the English Channel and landing at Normandy. Britain again dissuaded them, arguing for the feasibility of opening a second front for the liberation of Italy. The landing of U.S. and English forces at Nor-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 mandy (Operation “Overlord”), which the Soviet leadership considered to be the opening of a second front, was pushed back to May 1944. In response, the irritated USSR’s leadership threatened to reconsider their obligations about opening a Soviet “second front” against Japan. What explains the Americans’ change of position in favor of the United Kingdom? There are at least three motives. First is the priority accorded by the United States to the interests of England, its special ally. Second is the lack of preparedness in military-technical considerations for an effective Anglo-American battle against the Germans in Normandy. Last is the obvious determination and ability of the USSR, evident from the end of 1942 and Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 225 beginning of 1943, to turn the tide in their favor on the home front, regardless of human losses. Soviet victims saved lives in the Western democracies. Roo- sevelt demonstrated his gratitude through material assistance to the Soviet Union and his recognition of its decisive contribution to the defeat of the world’s greatest evil. A second front, as the Soviets understood it, was opened only in June 1944. Despite their disagreements, the partnership of the United States and United Kingdom was much closer than their ties with the Soviet Union. Roo- sevelt met with Churchill many more times than with Stalin. These were meetings of ideological allies, who would work out a general platform together, before presenting it to Stalin. Nonetheless, the meetings between Roosevelt and Stalin were very important. In particular, two of their meetings (in Teh- ran in November and December 1943 and in Yalta in February 1945), which included Churchill, were crucial for international politics during the war and for the postwar order. The importance of contacts at all levels between the United States and USSR increased, and Roosevelt came to regard the Soviet Union as a superpower, albeit devoid of the virtues he saw in his own country. He saw England as a useful ally to his own superpower in relations with the new eastern colossus. The relationship between Roosevelt and the Soviet Union during the war was ambiguous, but their alliance proved stronger than the undercurrents of suspicion, hostility, and confrontation. Roosevelt’s main theme in American relations with the Soviet Union was that without the Soviets the Western democracies could not cope with the global Nazi evil, and likewise they could not deal with both the Nazis and the Soviets simultaneously. Therefore, the West had to cooperate with the Communist dictatorship for mutual assistance. Roosevelt was even willing to stop referring to the USSR as a dictatorship and to Stalin as a dictator. Moreover, he nursed a timid but growing hope that the Soviet Union could enter the fold of democratic civilization. He engaged in such wishful thinking for the sake of strengthening the alliance with Moscow. In the autumn of 1941, after proposing to extend Lend-Lease to the USSR, he tried to convince Americans that the Soviet Union was no less concerned about religious freedom than the United States. 38 On November 7, 1941, the anniversary of the birth of Soviet power and of the Soviet military parade through Moscow, Lend-Lease was opened to the Soviet Union. Later, Roos-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 evelt spoke about the possibility of some convergence between the Soviet and American systems. He once told one of his closest aids that after 1917, the Soviet Union evolved from “Soviet communism” toward “state socialism,” while the United States progressed toward “true political and social justice.” The complete alignment of “American democracy and Soviet communism” was impossible, but in certain ways they were growing closer. 39 During the final stage of the war, the United States established strong international institutes of economic hegemony. In mid-1944, the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development was established in the town of Bretton Woods, New Hampshire, and its assets almost entirely belonged to 226 Vladimir V. Sogrin the United States. The World Bank, its briefer title, was intended to assist the recovery of European economies and also to assist poorer countries in Asia, Latin America, and Africa. At the same time and place, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) was founded. Its mission was to ensure the stability international monetary settlements and appeals. Its reserves were held in gold and the dollar, rather than gold and sterling silver. The United States controlled two-thirds of the world’s gold reserves, and the gold supply of the dollar was beyond contestation. In both of the new international financial centers, the majority of posts went to Americans. Roosevelt himself encapsulated the subjective basis. He was never a fatalist and believed in the ability of a person to change the course of history. The events of the 1930s–40s convinced many (including, probably, the president himself) that Roosevelt was such a person. He saved American civilization from the economic collapse of the 1930s; in the 1940s, he made America an economic and military-political superpower. During the 1930s and 1940s, he was guided by the principle that the “only thing we have to fear is fear itself,” and in practice brilliantly demonstrated the rightness of his optimism. The political grandmaster Roosevelt felt that by dealing in “kid gloves” with Sta- lin, utilizing Moscow’s economic dependence on Washington, and wielding the “dry powder” of nuclear weapons, he could “amicably” cope with the second superpower. Fate deprived him of the opportunity to actually experience the objective and subjective bases of American “superiority” over the USSR. It is doubtful that the “Roosevelt factor” fundamentally influenced Stalin in accounting the final results of the Second World War or the postwar settlement in Europe and in the world as a whole. Nonetheless, Roosevelt’s death had an impact on U.S.-Soviet relations. During the war years, Roosevelt was presented as a sincere friend of Russia. “Uncle Joe” felt comfortable in face- to-face discussions with the great and charismatic American leader. News of Roosevelt’s death on April 12, 1945, plunged the USSR into national mourning. Millions of Soviet people sincerely wept and were convinced that Russia had lost its greatest foreign friend. The fears of Soviet leaders about the impact of the U.S.’s change of national leaders were quickly realized. Roosevelt’s replacement, Truman, was not a political grandmaster on the level of Roosevelt. Like Roosevelt, a proponent of the “American century,” Truman lacked the desire and skill to deal with

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Moscow with “kid gloves.” From the very beginning, he stated his intention to rely on force. When on April 23, 1945, Truman first met with Vyacheslav Molotov, the Soviet minister of foreign affairs in Washington, he promptly poured cold water on his Moscow ally. The American president later proudly recalled that he had promptly given the Soviet minister “the straight one-two to the jaw” by firmly demanding the fulfillment of the Yalta agreements. 40 The night before this meeting, William Averell Harriman, the American ambassador to Moscow and Roosevelt associate, expressed to the new president his thoughts on the importance of compromise. Truman retorted, “of what I want from the Russians, we should be able to get eighty-five percent.” 41 The Franklin D. Roosevelt and the USSR 227 president’s assistants needed to forget about Roosevelt’s 50 percent. Truman was prepared for a radical change in relations with his main anti-Nazi ally. It did not take long to arrive.

Notes * This article was translated by Megun Luttrell and Luke Franklin, PhD students at the University of Kansas. 1. Robert Dallek, The American Style of Foreign Policy: Cultural Politics and Foreign Affairs (New York: Alfred A. Knopf Inc., 1983), 121; Lloyd Gardner and Wal- ter F. LaFeber and Thomas J. McCormick, Creation of the American Empire: U.S. Diplomatic History (Skokie, IL: Rand McNally & Co., 1973), 385; Emily Rosen- berg, Spreading the American Dream: American Economic and Cultural Expansion, 1890–1945 (Scarborough: HarperCollins Canada Ltd., 1982), 172–173. 2. Dallek, 126–127. 3. Ibid., 128–129. Michael H. Hunt, Ideology and U.S. Foreign Policy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1987), 148; Matthew C. Price, The Advancement of Liberty. How American Democratic Principles Transformed the Twentieth Century (Westport, CT: Praeger Security International, 2008), 26–27. 4. Raymond Moley, After Seven Years (New York: Harper & Bros., 1939), vii; James MacGregor Burns, Roosevelt: The Lion and the Fox (New York: Mariner Books, 1956), 179; Rexford G. Tugwell, The Democratic Roosevelt: A Biography of Franklin D. Roosevelt (New York: Doubleday, 1957), 291; Thomas A. Bailey, A Diplomatic History of the American People (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1958), 668– 671; Lloyd Gardner, Walter F. LaFeber, and Thomas J. McCormick, Creation of the American Empire, 386–391; Walter La Feber, The American Age: United States Foreign Policy at Home and Abroad 1750 to the Present (New York: W. W. Norton and Co., 1994), 372–375. 5. They appear in the publication: Grigorii Sevost’ianov, ed., Moskva-Vashington. Politiki i diplomatiia Kreml’a 1921–1941. v 3 tomakh, T. 3 1933–1941 (Moscow: Nauka, 2009). 6. Ibid., 224. 7. Ibid., 12, 39. 8. Ibid., 27. 9. Ibid., 30, 33. 10. Myron Taylor, ed., War Time Correspondence between President Roosevelt and Pope Pius XII (Whitefish, MT: Kessinger Publishing, LLC, 2005), 61–62. 11. Sevost’ianov, Moskva-Vashington T. 3 , 215. 12. Ibid., 337. 13. Ibid., 358–359. 14. Norman E. Saul, Friends or Foes? The United States and Soviet Russia. 1921–1941 (Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 2006), 250–255. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 15. Thomas Maddux, Years of Estrangement: American Relations with the Soviet Union, 1933–1941 (Tallahassee: University Press of Florida, 1980), 17–20. 16. John Lewis Gaddis, Russia, the Soviet Union and the United States: An Interpretive History (New York: Knopf, 1978), 132–134. Davies’ evaluation of the Stalinist terror was, to a large degree, determined by the typical American perception of Russian civilization, in any of its historical incarnations, as an eastern despotism, in which a person, his freedom, and rights are nothing. “It [the Soviet government—author] is eastern in its cruelty and complete disregard for human life. That ‘life is a kopek’ is apparently a fact . . . no amount of material enhancements, supplies like things, which should improve the standard of living for the proletariat, cannot at any time compensate for the 228 Vladimir V. Sogrin denial of freedom and rights of individualism even against the king. The price is too high” (Moskva-Vashington V. 3, 573). Recounting his liberal-democratic evaluation of Stalinism, Davies in the spirit of realpolitik believed this situation to be fatal. Despite this, he believed it beneficial to stay close to the USSR against two main common enemies: Germany and Japan. 17. Ibid., 136–137. 18. Ronald E. Powaski, The Cold War. The United States and the Soviet Union 1917– 1991 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 42–43. 19. The USSR provided military aid to China in 1938 and 1939, and it gave adequate military rebuff to Japan, but in the spring of 1940 signed a nonaggression pact with China, which the USSR viewed as incredibly important. 20. Nadezhda E. Kleimenova and Andrei I. Sidorov, Istoriia mezhdunarodnykh otnoshenii 1918–1939 (Moskva: Tsentrpoligraf, 2008), 237. 21. All Union Party of Bolsheviks (1925–1952), which would later be known as the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, or CPSU, from 1952 until the collapse of the USSR in 1991 (translators note). 22. A. P. Bondarenko, ed., God Krizisa, 1938–1939. Dokumenty i materialy v dvukh tomakh, T. 1 (Moskva: Izd-vo polit. Lit-ry, 1990), 263. 23. La Feber, The American Age , 385. According to the survey from the Gallup service, 66 percent of Americans at this time did not support either side of the Spanish civil war. Twelve percent supported Franco, and 22 percent supported the lawful government. See Bailey, A Diplomatic History, 702. 24. La Feber, The American Age , 385. 25. Samiel I. Roseman, ed., Public Papers and Addresses of Franklin D. Roosevelt, vol. 5 (New York: Russell & Russell Publishing, 1938–1950), 407–411. 26. Franklin D. Roosevelt, “Fireside Chat” October 12, 1937, online by Gerhard Peters and John T. Woolley, The American Presidency Project, http://www.presidency. ucsb.edu/fireside.php 27. Stephen J. Valone, ed., Two Centuries of U.S. Foreign Policy. The Documentary Record (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers, 1995), 74. 28. In this case, Winston Churchill was far more astute and daring than Roosevelt. He was not part of the British government and allowed himself an extremely harsh assessment of Munich. 29. Lloyd Gardner, Walter F. LaFeber, and Thomas J. McCormick, Creation of the American Empire, 394. 30. Henry Kissinger, Diplomacy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1994), 384. 31. Viktor Mal’kov, Rossiia i SShA v XX veke (Moskva: Nauka, 2009), 225. 32. For details see: Vladislav Smirnov, Kratkaia istoriia vtoroi mirovoi voiny (Moskva: Ves’Mir, 2005), 63–104. 33. Roosevelt, “Fireside Chat Announcing Unlimited National Emergency,” May 27, 1941. 34. Roosevelt, “Fireside Chat on National Defense,” May 26, 1940. 35. Smirnov, Kratkaia istoriia, 127–129; Franklin D. Roosevelt, “Press Conference Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 #750,” Press Conferences of President Franklin D. Roosevelt, 1933–1945, Frank- lin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum, http://www.fdrlibrary.marist. edu/_resources/images/pc/pc0118.pdf 36. Henry Luce, “The American Century,” Time , February 17, 1941. 37. Valone, Two Centuries of U.S. Foreign Policy, 84–85. 38. Dallek, The American Style of Foreign Policy , 130. 39. Summer Welles, Where Are We Heading (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1946), 377–378. 40. American historical revisionists consider this day to be the beginning of the Cold War. See: Gaddis, Russia, the Soviet Union and the United States , 169. 41. Vladimir Olegovich Pechatnov, Stalin, Ruzevel’t, Trumen , 320. 16 The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain The Lacy-Zarubin (Eisenhower- Khrushchev) Agreement of January 1958 1

Norman E. Saul

Several important precedents helped bring about the negotiation of an important scholarly exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union in the 1950s. First was an influx of émigré scholars from Russia after the Russian Revolution in the 1920s, mainly in the field of Russian history and literature, led by Michael Karpovich (Harvard), George Vernadsky (Yale), and Michael Flo- rinsky (Columbia). This influx established a sense of international awareness of Russia at leading American universities. Another influx of refugees from Eastern Europe after World War II provided a reservoir of language expertise and scholarly expertise, for example, Alexander Dallin and Richard Pipes staffed these nascent international area programs, led by the Russian (Harriman) Institute (Columbia) and the Russian (Davis) Research Center (Harvard). Another less familiar initiative in the background of Russian cultural exchange was fostered by Charles R. Crane, who had become dedicated to international and especially Russian education in the late nineteenth century. This resulted in his sponsoring the publication of the first history of Russia and lectureships during three successive summers at the University of Chicago beginning in 1900 by Maxim Kovalevsky, Tomas Masaryk, and Paul Miliukov on Slavic civilization. 2 After the Russian Revolution, Crane founded the Institute of Current World Affairs (ICWA) in New York. Among its projects was the sending of American scholars to Russia to study and report on conditions during the 1920s and 1930s. Among those who conducted research with this support were Geroid T. Robinson (Columbia), Samuel Harper (Chicago),

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Bruce Hopper (Harvard), and John Hazard (Columbia), who would be ardent supporters of the exchange negotiations with the Soviet Union. 3 Crane also financed other groups from Russia during the 1920s: the Danilevsky Church Choir, the Kedrof Quartet, and the Moscow Art Theatre with Konstantin Stanislavsky. The idea that exchange should include performance groups was thus established. Perhaps the most important precedence for the exchange was the very successful Fulbright Scholarship Program, initiated in 1946. It funded study abroad, mainly in Western Europe for a large number of postgraduate students for study at the best universities. Funded by a bill of Congress sponsored 230 Norman E. Saul by Senator William J. Fulbright, it was soon copied by other study-abroad programs by many universities interested in expanding their international programs, supported by the inspiration of university presidents, such as Herman B. Wells of Indiana University. Associated with this were loans made to Euro- pean countries, connected to the Marshall Plan in the local currency of the country, which, it was decided, could be returned in the form of library acqui- sitions and funding for cultural visits of various kinds. Still, a cultural exchange between the United States and the Soviet Union in the middle of the Cold War was quite a remarkable achievement. The inspiration came from discussions at the Geneva Conference in July 1955 on how to reduce tensions between East and West. This meeting was the first postwar summit between the United States and USSR leaders, President Dwight D. Eisenhower and First Secretary Nikita Khrushchev. At a follow-up meeting of foreign ministers in Geneva in October, the United States, United Kingdom, and France proposed a seventeen-point program for removing barriers to a variety of exchanges of media, culture, education, etc., but Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov rejected it out of hand, though he did consider a few items could be open for future negotiation on a bilateral basis that would “reflect what is of particular interest to the countries concerned.” 4 In consideration of Soviet withdrawal from its occupation zone of Austria (the Austrian State Treaty of 1955), Khrushchev’s twentieth party congress speech (February 1956), and the pronouncement of “peaceful coexistence,” a number of cracks in the Iron Curtain had begun to appear. In December 1955, the Soviet government invited an African-American company of Porgy and Bess that was touring Europe to perform in Leningrad (December) and Moscow (January 1956). 5 On Eisenhower’s urging, the Department of State quickly committed $150,000 to support the trip. Overcoming problems with transport and housing, the troupe of nearly one hundred performed before enthusiastic crowds with a record number of encores. This “sensational” breakthrough was well covered in the American press by Truman Capote, who accompanied the cast, for the New Yorker 6 and by Daniel Schorr for the New York Times . The following year, the Soviet travel agency Intourist was busy shepherd- ing over 2,000 American visitors to the USSR, a clear motive for opening the door being an influx of hard currency for the Soviet government. Cracks

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 were appearing in the Iron Curtain. On the basis of these developments, the United States formulated a new direction in its Cold War agenda. The goal of a program of direct exchanges was formally outlined in a National Secu- rity Council memorandum of June 1956 “to promote within Soviet Russia an evolution toward a regime which will abandon predatory policies which will seek to promote the aspirations of the Russian people rather than the global ambitions of International Communism and which will increasingly rest upon the consent of the governed rather than on despotic police power.” 7 In other words, the idea of a Soviet-American exchange program was politically motivated from the beginning. The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain 231 On the other hand, the proposal meshed with the president’s personal commitment to a broad “people to people” program. Other prominent Americans had already promoted direct international exchanges in the interest of achieving better understanding and communication in the postwar world. Sociolo- gist C. Wright Mills suggested the involvement of 100,000 Soviet students hosted by the United States in one year, while Chester Bowles, an advisor to the president, advocated a more reasonable number of 500. In February 1956, an Inter-University Committee was established in New York to initiate a more serious program of academic exchanges, and a limited number of American scholars and students were able to visit the USSR for short periods at reasonable nontourist rates during the 1956–57 academic year. 8 From the beginning, America’s Russian-Soviet scholars realized that for the study of the Soviet Union (and before that, the Russian Empire), special challenges and conditions existed in that country and also for Soviet students in America; this would require a high-level government agreement, in contrast with the ongoing and successful Fulbright Program. But at least the path had already been laid. Two of the leading advocates of Soviet-American exchanges, John Hazard of Columbia University and Bruce Hopper of Har- vard, had studied in Moscow in the 1930s under a special arrangement sponsored by Charles R. Crane and his Institute of Current World Affairs. 9 It took over a year for a new student exchange to receive serious attention by the two governments, owing to setbacks in relations from the Hungarian Revolution and Suez Crisis in 1956. When direct negotiations on the subject were finally placed on the table, the Soviet side insisted upon a Moscow site conducted by ambassadors, but the United States objected because of Eisen- hower’s personal interest in supervising the proceedings. The U.S. side also wanted an emphasis from the beginning on student exchanges. Soviet authorities, preferring technical delegations, acquiesced in the interests of launching a new stage of “peaceful coexistence.” Formal negotiations thus began in Washington in late October 1957 between William S. B. Lacy, designated as the president’s special assistant on East-West exchanges, and the Soviet ambassador to the United States, Georgy Zarubin (1900–58). 10 Lacy was a recently retired State Department expert on Far Eastern affairs with service in the Philippines in the early 1950s, director of the State Department Office on Southeast Asia, and interim ambassador to 11

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 South Korea in 1955. Zarubin, since his appointment to the United States by Joseph Stalin in June 1952, was noted for his hostile Cold War “Stalin- ist” demeanor, but he was now First Secretary Nikita Khrushchev’s man in the American capital. 12 The beginning of the negotiations was heralded by an unusually lavish reception at the Soviet embassy on November 7, 1957, the occasion of the fortieth anniversary of the Bolshevik revolution, that was attended by Lacy. 13 An important precondition for the opening of deliberations in Washington was the already considerable investment in professional Slavic Studies in the United States, spearheaded by the establishment of the Russian Institute at 232 Norman E. Saul Columbia University and the Harvard Russian Research Center in 1948. The founders, especially Hazard, Geroid Robinson, Phillip Moseley, and Henry Roberts of Columbia and Marshall Shulman, Hopper, and Merle Fainsod of Harvard, won support from their institutions and from officials in Washing- ton, such as State Department experts on Russia: George F. Kennan, Charles Bohlen, Loy Henderson, and Llewellyn Thompson. All of these had experience in studies and residences in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. In fact, the Harvard Crimson was one of the first publications to herald the possibility of a formal student exchange program in its reporting on an initial 75-minute meeting between Lacy and Zarubin on October 28, 1957. 14 The Ford Foundation had also contributed major resources to funding a large increase in the enrollment of graduate students in advanced interdisci- plinary area studies. This obviously produced incentives for firsthand study in the countries concerned. In fact, the Inter-University Committee had already initiated a program of short-term visits in the USSR for their students, though these visits generally lacked access to Soviet institutions. The deliberations in Washington thus had the full support of leading American universities. In addition, there were clear signs of similar but evident vocal support from the Soviet Academy of Sciences and leading Russian universities in Moscow and Leningrad, especially in regard to the potential of technical and scientific information gained. The Soviet position at the beginning of negotiations, conducted by Zaru- bin, was that an initial exchange of students should be limited to a very few, suggesting five from each side, possibly rising to ten in subsequent years. The American side, led by Lacy, pressed for more, even suggesting thousands, which, of course, was only to establish a bargaining position as there was no way that American universities could absorb that many Soviet students—and similarly for the other side. Thus the negotiations began with the two sides far apart, the Soviet taking a narrow view, the American a much broader one. Another issue involved the definition of a student, since Soviet/Russian practice differed from that in the United States, where anyone working toward a PhD or other higher degree was considered a graduate student. In the USSR, as in a number of European countries, those who had achieved “kandidat” status, roughly equivalent to the American doctorate, remained technically “students” until perhaps receiving a doctorate after a number of

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 years in the profession and the publication of a major work. The compromise achieved was simply to accept each sides’ definition. The result was that most of the Americans on the exchange would be typical postcomprehensive students conducting research for their dissertations, while the Soviet participants would generally be older, already employed in their professions. From the beginning, Zarubin lived up to his reputation as a Soviet hard- liner, but he gradually became more open to changes and modifications, no doubt under instructions from Moscow. Lacy observed that “he had the reputation of being a very disagreeable man indeed, . . . but he softened so that he wept when he said good-bye.” The deliberations continued, interrupted only The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain 233 for the holidays, for three months with regular consultations with the powers that were behind it, President Eisenhower and Secretary Khrushchev. The final agreement was signed on January 28, 1958 (significantly not a treaty requiring ratification but an “agreement”), with no apparent reservations on either side, though J. Edgar Hoover of the Federal Bureau of Inves- tigation noted that “he would have to double the guard.” 15 Zarubin even conceded to the American insistence on having full control of the assignment to universities of Soviet participants, an important concession that insured a broad exposure to the country, while Americans were generally confined at the beginning to Moscow and Leningrad. The agreement provided for an initial exchange of 20 “students,” to be selected by applications from each country. Clearly, the major reason that both sides came to a workable compromise was the concurrent negotiations for a visit of Khrushchev to the United States, which both sides placed as a high priority. In fact, the cultural exchange agreement was an essential prerequisite for the arrival of the Soviet leader in the United States in the summer of 1959. Eisenhower was a firm supporter of the negotiation efforts from the beginning, as was, surprisingly, his conservative secretary of state, John Foster Dulles. The president, however, would have gone much further. Taking a cue from Kevin McCann, a friend and president of Defiance College, Eisenhower seriously urged an exchange in the immediate future in the order of 10,000 a year while the negotiations were ongoing and asked Dulles to pursue it. 16 He also checked by telephone with FBI Director Hoover about any security problems that might be involved but only after the agreement had been signed. “Hoover thought that the security dangers, which the FBI would have to handle, might be increased somewhat, but that it was well worth it.” 17 Meanwhile, Dulles referred Eisenhower’s expansive proposal for study in the State Department; this resulted in a carefully worded rejection on the grounds that to absorb 10,000 Soviet students in already overcrowded American universities would be impractical, especially as such a program would need to be extended to other countries and not exclusive to the USSR, that there was no way that Soviet universities could admit a similar number of Americans, and that in any case “the Soviets like to keep them in [small] groups so they will watch one another.” 18 Dulles did not note that this would also facilitate U.S. surveillance of the exchange participants.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Despite these obvious obstacles, the president persisted, emphasizing that what he had in mind was not a special invitation over an unspecified period of time, but he realized it would cost over $15,000,000. Dulles again politely responded that this would require an act of Congress that was not likely to be approved and that the attorney general was firmly opposed to a flood of Soviet “students” (or spies). Meanwhile, dealing with the practical matters of getting an exchange off the ground, Zarubin and Lacy agreed on the exchange of 20 students from each side, beginning in the fall of 1958, with an increase to 30 the following year, a small but sure beginning, a two-year agreement that would be renewed several times. It is important to note that the president 234 Norman E. Saul avoided any debate in Congress, where remaining McCarthyites might obstruct the process, but enacted this consequential foreign commitment by executive order. The “Agreement Between the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics on Exchanges in the Cultural, Tech- nical and Educational Fields” was thus formally signed on January 27, 1958 with no legislative consideration. 19 This bilateral exchange soon expanded to include a number of other West- ern countries and to a variety of other cultural exchanges; the general commitment to an academic program remained in effect, without interruption, through the high and low points of the Cold War, surviving the U-2 episode, the Cuban missile crisis, and the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. 20 It also soon expanded to include performing groups, a precedent already established by the Harlem Porgy and Bess troupe in December 1955 and January 1956, beginning with My Fair Lady in a number of performances in Leningrad, Moscow, and Kiev during the spring of 1960. It was headed by Lola Fisher, understudy to Julie Andrews in the Broadway production four years earlier, as Eliza Doolittle. The additions included a senior faculty exchange with the Soviet Academy of Sciences and Ministry of Higher Education, exhibitions, and individual artists and performers, including groups such as the Bolshoi Ballet, which took New York by storm in April 1959. 21 One motive of the Soviet engaging in promotion of these exchanges was to earn hard currency payments for most of the income from those attending (though risking later defections, such as Rudolf Nureev and Mikhail Barishnikov). One of the most successful of the American visits was the Soviet tour of Duke Ellington and his orchestra. A film exchange was especially successful, exposing large Soviet audiences throughout the country to popular American films such as Oklahoma (fall of 1960) and West Side Story . 22 For the administration on the American side, the original Inter-University Committee morphed into the Inter-University Committee on Travel Grants (IUCTG), based at Indiana University in Bloomington. 23 It was responsible for selecting the American participants, their orientation and language enhancement, and travel costs to the Soviet Union. In addition, it provided stipends and internal travel expenses for the Soviet students, whose travel to the United States was borne by the USSR. A combination of government

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 and private foundation funds meshed with university contributions in tuition waivers and low-cost housing. The Soviet institutions, mainly the Academy of Sciences and Ministry of Higher Education, provided similar arrangements on their side, often substandard by American standards but the best available. The unsung heroes of the exchange from the beginning were the faculty advisors on both sides who devoted much time and effort to “making it work.” They facilitated access to archives (when possible) and steered participants toward publication alternatives. Problems in the academic exchange involved mainly rejections by the USSR of some American nominations with reciprocal rejections by the American side and continuing problems in gaining access to The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain 235 Soviet archival collections, but these issues were similar to those faced by Soviet students in their own country. American students, however, were granted the special access to facilities usually awarded only to senior Soviet scholars, for example, in being admitted to the special Hall No. One of the Lenin Library. On this front, the program favored the Soviet participants, who were rarely, if ever, denied any opportunity to study in American libraries and archives, while Americans in Russia frequently faced obstructions like many Russians. Included in the exchanges from the beginning were tours of the country. While the initial Soviet group in 1958 were escorted from New York and New England to Philadelphia, Chicago, and New Orleans (and later San Fran- cisco), Americans would enjoy exposure to the “exotic” terrain and cultures of Central Asia and the Caucasus. A number of separate excursions to historic places were also involved, often in conjunction with exchanges from other countries. 24 Needless to stay, virtually all participants had their eyes opened and levels of appreciation and understanding raised considerably. There was, perhaps unavoidably, a difference in receptions in the host countries. The first Soviet student contingent at Columbia University in the fall of 1958 was greeted with a friendly, not lavish, reception hosted by the Russian Institute, followed by an impromptu and wild ride on the Broadway subway and tour of a seedy Times Square at midnight. The doors of faculty homes and student rooms or apartments would generally be open to exchange guests, while that was much less the case on the Soviet side, owing mainly to concerns about police surveillance and inadequate (embarrassingly poor) facilities. Nevertheless, the American students were observed on the street, in classes, in libraries, at the theater, and in ordinary restaurants, presenting the possibility with being charged with being visible anti-Soviet propaganda. They stood out, especially the female participants, followed in the 1970s by spouses and their children. This was thanks to the persistence of IUCTG and IREX but was rarely the case (spouses and children) among the Soviet participants. In 1974, a Fulbright-sponsored lectureship in American history was inaugurated at Moscow State University and continued for many years, with a celebration of its twentieth anniversary with a conference at the university in the spring of 1994. This elevated the American presence in the city, as an embassy official noted, to that of a “real professor,” that is, a leading scholar in the field teaching in English.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 By the 1980s, other organizations had negotiated separate agreements for exchanges, especially the American Council of Teachers of Russian (ACTR), that included undergraduates and summer study programs. With the dissolu- tion of the Soviet Union, the multiplicity of such arrangements escalated with the Russian Federation and the newly independent states. These involved direct hires of visiting faculty and fellowship programs, especially the Junior (Fulbright) Faculty Program that reached out to provincial university young faculty sponsored by the State Department, as well as sponsorship of academic conferences at various sites in the former Soviet Union by the American embassies in capitals and the consul general’s office in St. Petersburg. 236 Norman E. Saul Though initially a relatively small exchange considering the size of the countries involved, it had a major cumulative effect. For more than 50 years, some of each country’s “best and brightest” were participants in the program. Two of the Soviet participants the first year were Alexander Yakovlev and Oleg Kalugin, who studied at Columbia University. 25 Yaklovlev was later a member of the shestidesiadniki (men of the sixties), Soviet ambassador to Can- ada in the 1980s, and then a major advisor to Mikhail Gorbachev on glasnost and “the father of perestroika,” while Kalugin would be a major KGB officer, who would later defect to the United States. 26 Many more ordinary citizens were exposed to the other country through exhibitions, an early one in Moscow featuring the famous “kitchen debate” between Khrushchev and Vice President Richard Nixon, and performing groups, such as a memorable visit of the American Theater Ballet to Lenin- grad in the fall of 1960 and that of the Bolshoi Ballet to New York. What followed was a variety of programs of visiting lectureships sponsored by universities, the Kennan Institute, the Fulbright Program, and others. For two examples, the University of Kansas hosted a series of “Soviet Writers in Residence” (visits and short courses for about three weeks) during the 1980s. In coordination with the Soviet Union of Writers, the university funded three-week seminars and special courses, including much exposure to the public in lectures and readings. Another program was the “Language across the Curriculum,” a special initiative to teach regular, upper-division courses in the language of the country. One feature was a Russian visiting scholar teaching an advanced Russian history course in Russian. Many other such programs were arranged by universities and by the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington. Moreover, the U.S.-USSR exchange was only the tip of an iceberg that included almost every part of the world, with other NATO countries participating and including similar programs with Poland, Bulgaria, and other countries of Eastern Europe. Even those students from Africa, the Middle East (especially Saudi Arabia and Egypt), and Asia, who went to the Soviet Union, usually assigned to the People’s Friendship University in Moscow, often had Western orientations to their studies, excepting the initially large Chinese (before the Sino-Soviet rift of 1961) and Vietnamese student delegations. 27 All of these programs undermined the Iron Curtain in many overt

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 and less obvious ways. Though always in danger of being found “anti-Soviet” or breaking the rules, Americans as well as others represented anti-Soviet expression just by being there. The process that resulted could be called globalization or Westernization or simply by reference to the simple original Eisenhower objective: “people to people” expanded to “institution to institution.” The subdued and unpublicized negotiations between William Lacy and Georgy Zarubin in 1957–58, conducted mostly outside of the State Depart- ment, produced a remarkable cultural exchange that imploded into more that could have been predicted. Not only did the exchange produce a greater The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain 237 appreciation of “the other” and its history and social character, but it also yielded many positive results in published research, enlightening the academic elites and, at least to some extent, the general public and for the governmental and business circles in each country, as many participants would move on to diplomatic or teaching careers. By 1991, the Cold War was brought to an end for that time and the wide-reaching cultural exchange programs were at least partly responsible. Hopefully, these established contacts will weather the storm over Russian intrusions into Crimea and Eastern Ukraine in 2014.

Notes 1. A version of this paper was first presented at an international conference at Okla- homa State University in the spring of 2007. It was also the subject of a contribution to an international conference at the Academy of Sciences in Moscow in November 2013. The author is indebted to the staff of the Dwight D. Eisenhower Presidential Library in Abilene, Kansas, for assistance in researching materials relating to the origins of the Soviet-American Cultural Exchange. Presidential libraries, under the direction of the National Archives and Records Administration, have often been neglected by researchers on Russian-American relations. Besides the papers of a particular president, they contain those of many others who were associated with his life, career, and administration. They are, however, often located in the hometown of the president, sometimes inconvenient to access without a car, for example in Abilene; West Branch, Iowa (Herbert Hoover); Independence, Mis- souri (Truman); or Hyde Park, New York (Roosevelt). Once there, one is welcomed by an expert staff; a smaller, more personal facility (than in the National Archives in Washington); quick delivery of materials; and an opportunity to visit an associated museum, historic house, and related sites (such as burial sites). Unfortunately, there are no equivalents of presidential libraries in the Russian Federation. 2. See the author’s The Life and Times of Charles R. Crane, 1858–1939: American Businessman, Philanthropist, and a Founder of Russian Studies in America (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, Rowman and Littlefield, 2013) for more details. 3. Information is in the Crane Papers in the Bakhmeteff Archive at Columbia Uni- versity. See also the record of the ICWA at Columbia, a recent acquisition, yet to be organized. 4. New York Times, November 15, 1955. 5. Robert F. Byrnes, Soviet-American Exchanges, 1958–1975 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1976), 35. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 6. Capote, “Porgy and Bess in Russia: The Muses are Heard,” New Yorker (January 1956). 7. NSC memorandum to Vice President Richard Nixon, June 28, 1956, White House Office (Ann Whitman Papers), National Security Council Staff Papers, 1953–61, Special Staff Office Papers, box 3, f. East-West Exchanges, Eisenhower Presidential Library [hereafter EPL]. 8. Brynes, 37–39. 9. On Crane’s support for exchanges, see Norman Saul, The Life and Times of Charles R. Crane, 1858–1939: American Businessman, Philanthropist, and a Founder of Rus- sian Studies in America (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, Rowman and Littlefield, 2013), 213–14. 238 Norman E. Saul 10. Zarubin was certainly familiar with the West, having been ambassador in Ottawa, Canada, before London (1947–52) and in that post in Washington since the summer of 1952. “Soviet Recalls Panyushkin: Will Send Zarubin to U.S.,” New York Times, June 7, 1952, 1. 11. The biographer of Admiral Raymond A. Spruance, the U.S. ambassador to the Philippines in the 1950s, describes Lacy as “a fiery, emotional, and unconven- tional foreign service officer” but who “established an effective working relationship.” Thomas B. Buell, The Quiet Warrior: A Biography of Admiral Raymond A. Spruance (Boston: Little, Brown), 408. 12. Oral History-200, William S. B. Lacy, conducted by John Luter, June 14, 1972, EPL. Zarubin was a senior Soviet diplomat to the West. He was ambassador to Canada (1945–47) and to the United Kingdom (1947–52) before being posted to the United States. 13. “Eisenhower Sends Greeting to the Soviet,” New York Times, November 8, 1957, 6. 14. George H. Watson, “Soviet Union Proposes Exchange of Students,” The Harvard Crimson, October 39, 1957. 15. Ibid. 16. Eisenhower to McCann, January 18, 1958, DDE Papers as president (Ann Whit- man file), DDE Diary Series, box 30, f. DDE dictation, January 1958, EPL. Zarubin may not have been in good health; he died soon after returning to Moscow in 1958. 17. Memorandum of telephone conversation with Hoover, March 4, 1958, box 31, f. telephone calls, March 1958, ibid., EPL. Perhaps J. Edgar was visualizing an opportunity to recruit agents. 18. Dulles memorandum to the president, January 17, 1958, DDE Papers (Ann Whit- man file), Dulles-Herter Series, box 9, f. Dulles, January 1958, EPL. 19. The agreement was given a “seal of approval” by an event in April: the award of first prize in the Tchaikovsky piano competition in Moscow to a young virtuoso American, Van Cliburn, resulting in an unprecedented ticker-tape parade on Fifth Avenue for a musician. 20. The leading authority on the course of the exchanges is Yale Richmond, Cultural Exchange and the Cold War: Raising the Iron Curtain (University Park: The Penn- sylvania State University Press, 2003), an updated and expanded edition of his earlier U.S.-Soviet Cultural Exchanges, 1958–1986 (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1987), which was based on the pioneering study of Byrnes. 21. See the excellent account of the Bolshoi appearance in Cadra Peterson McDaniel, American-Soviet Cultural Diplomacy: The Bolshoi Ballet’s American Premier (Lan- ham, MD: Lexington Books, 2015). 22. The author had the opportunity to see the first half of Oklahoma in Leningrad while participating in the student exchange in 1960. It was shown in two parts, one the first week, the second the following. The speaking parts were dubbed in Russian, while the soundtrack of the music was left in the original, creating an odd effect, but Russians loved it and tickets were a hot commodity. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Another experience was in sharing a train compartment from Moscow to Kiev in January 1961 with two railroad workers from Sverdlovsk (Ekaterinburg); all we had to talk about, over quantities of shared food and drink for several hours, was the Western films they had seen (certainly more than I had). 23. IUCTG was replaced in 1968 by IREX (The International Research and Exchanges Board), centered in Princeton and later Washington. 24. The author remembers especially a day-long bus excursion from Leningrad to Novgorod in the fall of 1960 that included six Americans, four Germans (two each from East and West), two Poles, two Swedes, three British, one Mongolian, and a Finn (with guitar). The singing together of German folk songs (accompanied by the Finn) in the rear of the bus was not appreciated by our Russian guides. The Program that Shattered the Iron Curtain 239 25. As a history graduate student at Columbia University, I remember meeting him at the aforementioned reception in September 1958. Loren Graham, a fellow student at Columbia and also a participant in the exchange of 1960–61, developed a much closer relationship with Yakovlev and his family over many years. 26. For more details, see Loren Graham, Moscow Stories (Bloomington: Indiana Uni- versity Press, 2007). 27. I remember especially the sudden departure of the large contingent of Chinese students from the dormitory in Leningrad in early 1961. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 17 “Academic Détente” Soviet Americanists as Exchange Scholars during the Brezhnev Era

Sergei I. Zhuk

Soviet Americanists’ participation in the US-Soviet exchange program became the most significant part of the relaxation of international tensions between the Soviet Union and the United States during the Brezhnev era,— noted historian Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, one of the pioneers of American studies in the USSR.—These Soviet experts in American studies, who traveled to America, contributed to the real “academic détente,” bringing back home not only the new documents and literature they discovered in American archives and libraries, but also human contacts and fresh impressions of friendly interactions with American people. Eventually all these Soviet visitors to America became leading Soviet experts in American studies. 1

Using the documents of the International Research and Exchanges Board (IREX) from the Manuscript Collection of the Library of Congress, Soviet travel reports, personal memoirs, correspondence and more than seventy interviews and concentrating on personal stories of Soviet Americanists, this chapter explores the cultural dialogue between Soviet and American scholars and also the role of Soviet Americanists in the Soviet system of knowledge production during the Brezhnev era (1964–82). 2 This essay offers a new look at the problems of Western-Soviet cultural and academic dialogue after Stalin, offered recently by Robert English, Vladislav Zubok, and other scholars, 3 concentrating on what English called the Soviet scholars’ efforts “to move their country toward broader integration with the liberal international community.” 4 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 American Hosts about Soviet Guests The “adventures” of the Soviet Americanists in America were closely covered by the U.S. organizations responsible for a reception of the Soviet guests. After many months of waiting for the KGB approval, and being closely mon- itored by this organization at home, Soviet Americanists finally arrived in America and became a focus of close attention by the officials from IREX and other agencies, including the U.S. Department of State. Overall, from 1968 to 1980, almost 80 percent (479) Soviet visitors to America came from “Academic Détente” 241 Moscow, and all of them, except four, were men. Among the 50 Soviet can- didates for the trip to the United States in 1982, 38 (more than 70 percent) came from the families of the Soviet party and academic elite (like Bolkhovi- tinov, Shlepakov, and Vlasova). 5 According to IREX files, 480 (80 percent) Soviet participants in academic exchanges program from 1968 to 1982, who represented the field of “American studies,” were the official policy analysts of the Soviet government, and all of them came from the research institutes of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, such as ISKAN (Institute of the USA and Canada) and IMEMO (Institute of World Economy and International Rela- tions) in Moscow. During the same period of time, almost 80 percent (483) of Soviet Americanists who visited the United States using American research grants were various official leaders (mostly academic apparatchiks ) from the Soviet centers for American studies in MGU (Moscow State University), ISKAN, IMEMO, and IVI (Institute of World History). Reflecting the obvious Cold War ideological bias, American observers were skeptical about the mission of these research centers and characterized them in the IREX official reports as the “Spy Institutes.” 6 Soviet officials expressed similar skeptic and suspicious attitudes toward Americans at the beginning of these contacts. As ISKAN director Georgii Arbatov wrote in his memoirs, a “majority of our specialists [in American studies]” had yet to overcome “pervasive ideology . . . [of ] propaganda and fear.” Speaking for himself, he recalled that, when named in 1967 the head the USA Institute, his:

[K]nowledge was insufficiently deep . . . I had never been to the United States. I had no contacts or acquaintances among Americans . . . [but] harder to acquire than acquaintances . . . was a feeling for the country, a partly rational, partly intuitive sense that we could only acquire through regular professional contact with a wide variety of specialists from the United States and with representatives from government and business. 7

American hosts, the experts in Russian and Soviet studies, were always interested in collaboration with the Soviet scholars, trying to help them to integrate into the “improvised international community, created by the open opportunities of détente.” 8 Sometimes, the American hosts even tried to

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ignore the “spy” background of their Soviet visitors, if they were official bosses from Moscow centers. American scholars flattered these guests in public, hoping to get the official invitations to visit Russia or begin collaborative research projects with their Soviet visitors. Among various materials, some IREX files contain a very positive and sympathetic portrayal of Grigorii Sevostianov, a professional Soviet spy and intelligence/KGB officer, who during WWII conducted Soviet espionage in the Far East. 9 Through his KGB connections, Sevostianov became a head of the first American studies center in Moscow in 1968, “trying to suppress any fresh idea” among his Soviet colleagues, pun- ishing those “liberals” like Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, “for an expression of their 242 Sergei I. Zhuk open-minded and too revisionist views on US history” in Moscow. As a head of this center, he became a popular Soviet guest in America. Paradoxically, this “KGB man,” and well-known “enemy of American imperialism,” known for his “offensive brutal anti-American” publications in the USSR, based mainly on communist propagandist clichés rather than on serious analysis of historical documents, suddenly was introduced by American hosts in 1974 as “a distinguished Russian diplomatic historian” and as “a scholar of excellent background, a man of great integrity and seriousness.” Many American colleagues of Sevostianov, such as Norman Saul from the University of Kan- sas, characterized Sevostianov as “a serious scholar” who “was well versed in American published material relating to his topic, thus enabling him to use research time more profitably.” 10 As it turned out, Professor Saul was interested in the Sevostianov’s immediate support for “expanding scholarly cooperation directly between the University of Kansas and the [Soviet] Academy of Sciences” and “the possibility of joint conferences, joint publications, and teaching and research exchanges.” 11 All American visitors to the USSR, especially the American experts in Rus- sian/Soviet history, culture, and politics, depended on the good relations with the Soviet officials from the “spy institutes” and, eventually, on their official invitations to visit Moscow. That is why the IREX officials always supported and promoted the visits of such famous Soviet academic officials connected to the KGB, such as Sevostianov or Georgii Arbatov. It was a principle of “do ut des”—“we give you our permission to visit US and expect you allowing us to visit the USSR to do our research there,” or “we do not pay attention to your KGB and Communist connections, and expect (instead) that you would invite us to the Soviet Union any time we need it.” 12 On August 27, 1973, IREX issued a special “Memorandum about Bilateral Travel Grant Request” to sponsor Arbatov’s to visit on January 9 through Feb- ruary 6, 1974:

The US Institute (ISKAN) has served as a useful intermediary in chan- neling visiting US scholars to other institutes within (Soviet) Academy hierarchy, but these visits have to date not provided satisfactory reciprocal opportunities for ‘”Russianists” and Soviet specialists. We should like to discuss with Arbatov an expansion of our range of contacts and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the formation of a bi-national agenda commission which would identify areas of mutual and parallel interest in order to facilitate consultation and collaboration. 13

As a result, on September 13, 1973, Allen Kassof from IREX wrote Arbatov the official invitation from IREX and ACLS to visit the United States with his wife and to deliver a special public lecture (with a promised honorarium) at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. After this successful visit on February 26, 1974, Cynthia Scott, IREX program officer, in her letter to Arba- tov, reminded him about the successful results of his application for American “Academic Détente” 243 funding for his trips, promised to support all his future visits to America, and at the same time promised to bring to Moscow the list of nominations of Ameri- can scholars for 1974–75 academic year; she also asked for a meeting with him in ISKAN to discuss this list of the future American visitors in the USSR. 14 The general evaluations of the visits by Soviet Americanists to the United States and discussions about the pros and cons of this exchanges program were the major themes of IREX correspondence during the 1970s. The main idea of these documents was to justify the rationale for the exchanges with the Soviet scholars. In some reports, IREX officials were sincerely surprised with the rare cases of professionalism and academic honesty of Soviet Americanists. 15 A good summary of the American hosts’ reaction to Soviet guests was expressed in a correspondence in 1976 by Eugene B. Skolnikoff, a director of the Center for International Studies at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (hereafter, MIT), who wrote to Julia Holm from IREX:

[The Soviets] seemed to come with a very specific objective of learning about certain techniques in political science, and were relatively little interested in discussing anything else at all. Moreover, I did not have the impression that they were well-grounded in those techniques themselves, though I cannot speak with certainty on that point. The impression certainly was that they were there to get information rather than to have broader discussions. It was not clear to me either that they were sufficiently well-versed in the techniques they wanted to learn about to be able to assimilate very much of the information they seemed to be after . . . [p.2] I might add that my own recent experiences with Russian visitors have been so consistently unsatisfactory, and I have picked up enough similar comments from others, that I find myself increasingly less interested in receiving or meeting with Russian visitors unless I know them well and know that I can have a reasonable exchange of information with them. When Dr. Arbatov visited MIT recently for a small lun- cheon, I made this point very strongly to him and indicated that from my perspective US-Soviet academic exchanges would deteriorate very rap- idly if the Russians continue to carry out their side as seems to have been developing in the last couple of years. He said he ‘got the message’ and would carry it back but offered no other commentary. 16 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 A month later, Julia Holm answered Skolnikoff, explaining that:

[O]f seven letters I received back (about Soviet visitors), five were positive. Those five letters came from professors who do not frequently receive Soviet scholars and thus might have more patience and lower expectations than scholars like yourself who see a regular parade of Sovi- ets. There is also a feeling in much of the correspondence that [academic apparatchiks] serve as laboratory specimens—‘so this is how a shishka acts, talks, and dresses in the mid-70’s . . .’—but not as intellectual 244 Sergei I. Zhuk counterparts. . . . Unfortunately the evaluations that came back this year [about Soviet vistors] were alarmingly poor—the majority of the Soviet scientists were quite obviously here as a reward and not to do research. . . . I mention this because the problem of—let me be frank—hacks coming guised as scholars, plagues all three exchanges I run. 17

In general, American hosts were very skeptical about the intellectual potential and scholarly contributions of the Soviet Americanists who visited their country. Until the mid-1970s, they called these Soviet visits “a kind of academic tourism,” and they expected that more serious Soviet researchers eventually would come to visit as well. 18 Unfortunately, the majority of Soviet visitors were academic or college apparatchiks rather than serious researchers. IREX reports left many portrayals of such Soviet functionaries. All of them contain the similar characteristics:

1. Bombastic, 2. Arrogant, 3. Impolite (arrives without announcement to meet people), 4. Doesn’t pay hotel bill, 5. Doesn’t arrive for appointments made for him, 6. Speaking out of order, 7. Rejected a [American host’s] complaint that information in data sheets was not correct, 8. Rejected a complaint that Soviets ask for too much money, 9. Rejected complaints that Soviets participants only learn, bring little of value to American universities. 19

More than 60 percent of all IREX reports during the Brezhnev era had direct complaints about the bad English language and research skills of Soviet students of American studies. Usually, American hosts could praise (in 40 percent of IREX files) Soviet Americanists, specialists in U.S. economy, politics, diplomacy, and culture from ISKAN and IMEMO, but very rarely Soviet historians, whom they “found [sometime] charming people,” but they could not “see that visits [of Soviet historians] accomplished any intellectual purpose” because Soviet guests “prosecuted no significant research here [in America].” 20 Even Aleksandr Fursenko, a Soviet historian, the most respected by his Amer- ican colleagues, was criticized in the IREX reports for the same reason. Thus, in his letter from November 15, 1979, Professor Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. from the City University of New York wrote to IREX, answered an inquiry regard-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 ing the visit of Fursenko and his research topic about “Evolution of US politics in the 1970s” and complained at the end:

I have seen him on his previous trips and suppose I will see him again this time. But I cannot forbear passing on to you my strong impression that these meetings are a total waste of time. Fursenko, though a nice fellow, is not a historian. He is a Soviet propagandist, totally impervious to evidence at odds with his stereotypes, and it is a misuse of money to send him (or for that matter any other Soviet ‘historian’ of contemporary affairs) around the United States. 21 “Academic Détente” 245 Despite their constant complaints about “the ideological bias” and “preconceived notions” of Soviet visitors, American hosts always emphasized the political and cultural significance of these exchanges. In January 24, 1975, Marshall Shulman from Columbia University in his letter to IREX positively evaluated the visits of two scholars, Yuri Mel’nikov, a sector head at the Insti- tute of the International Workers’ Movement, USSR Academy of Sciences, and Vladimir Zolotukhin from ISKAN:

I consider both visits to have been useful. As it happened, I met with both men in Moscow afterwards, and both expressed warm appreciation for their reception here, and said that the trip had been valuable for them. I have no doubt that their desire to reciprocate made my own trip more productive. I have known Dr. Mel’nikov for many years. He is a thoughtful man, and a serious scholar. He has made several trips to the United States, and they are reflected in the differentiations he makes in his writings. . . . Dr. Zolotukhin is the head of a section in the Institute of the USA, and he arranged for me to meet with members of his section in Moscow to discuss the role of the US Congress in the determination of foreign policy. From the discussion, I derived some valuable insights into their perceptions of US political life. The quality of his observations also reflected the value of his experiences in the United States. It is my belief that it is in the United States interest to have Soviet analysts of the US as knowledgeable as possible, to reduce the risk of dangerous miscalculations and unnecessary misunderstandings. 22

According to the official American documents, the American hosts clearly understood the role of those Soviet Americanists from ISKAN, IMEMO, and other Moscow and Kiev centers, who were the Soviet policy analysts and the official advisers of the Soviet leadership. For the IREX administration and U.S. State Department, those Soviet “power people,” such as Arbatov, were the “important connections” to the Soviet political leaders. During the 1970s, a majority of IREX exchanges involving Soviet Americanists (almost 80 percent) funded the Soviet policy analysts with discussions of arms control and other diplomatic issues in U.S.-Soviet relations. Moreover, the IREX administration supported those Soviet research projects, which could provide Soviet

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 leadership with precious information about the situation in U.S. politics, economy, society, and culture, with the goal “to reduce the risk of Soviet dangerous miscalculations” in the “growing arms race.” 23 According to the Soviet policy analysts, who were the active participants in the IREX programs, they tried to bring this message of “their American hosts” to Leonid Brezhnev and other Soviet leaders. Through their personal ties to leadership, Americanists from IMEMO and ISKAN gave Brezhnev realistic recommendations about careful and reasonable politics of reducing the risks of arms race. Unfortunately, after 1979, “their efforts to convince Brezhnev [to listen to their analysis after their visits to America] came to naught due to the 246 Sergei I. Zhuk latter’s near-total mental incapacity and the attendant devolution of power to Defense Minister Dmitri Ustinov and the military.” 24 A minority of Soviet Americanists (less than 20 percent) who participated in the IREX programs were Soviet experts in U.S. history. American hosts also supported financially this category of Soviet visitors. According to IREX reports, “this exchange of scholars, if it can be carried on more broadly, would be a great asset in building better [and closer cultural and intellectual] relations between the United States and Russia.” 25 The IREX administration tried to support not only the research projects of the Soviet historians but also their “academic connections” to their American colleagues, the American experts in Russian studies—“Russianists” and “Sovietologists.” From a technical point of view, establishing such connections was important for helping the Soviet visitors with their adjustment to American realities. American Sovietologists, who knew Russian language and culture, became the first natural “interpreters” of American life for the Soviet guests, experts in U.S. history. As a result, Soviet Americanists had friendlier relations with American Sovietologists than with the local U.S. historians. 26 Moreover, the Soviet visitors later became instrumental in obtaining the official invitations to the USSR for their former American hosts. It was the official policy of IREX administration—“to encourage the involvement of both Soviet and American scholars in the international, mutually beneficial, academic projects.” This policy worked, and all Soviet Americanists who participated in the academic exchanges program tried to “organize the official invitation for their former American hosts.” 27

Soviet “Discursive” Discoveries of America According to American documents, the most talented Soviet Americanists who spent the majority of their visit working hard at the American libraries and archives were a few Soviet enthusiasts of U.S. history, politics, and culture who came to the United States already prepared for serious research work and “had already done their homework.” 28 The American “experience” of these Soviet Americanists affected their entire academic career, shaping their research priorities, interests, and discursive strategies in presenting material they discovered in the United States for publication in the Soviet Union.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 One of these Soviet Americanists was Nikolai Sivachev, a graduate student from MGU’s Department of History, who began his academic career as a participant of the U.S.-Soviet student exchanges program during 1961–62. The American administrators of this program noted that this Soviet student of U.S. history took classes at Columbia University, “through serious application, made even greater strides in English,” and successfully studied the U.S. presidential election of 1936 under a supervision of his adviser, Professor Richard Hofstadter. 29 This experience triggered Sivachev’s interest in a political history of the New Deal and a social history of U.S. labor. Under influence of his advisor, a conservative American political historian, Sivachev concentrated “Academic Détente” 247 on the history of the political elites in the United States during the 1930s. When he returned to Moscow, he added Marxist analysis to his archival findings, defended his Soviet kandidatskaia dissertation, and prepared his study of political struggle during the U.S. elections in the 1930s, which was published as a book in 1966. 30 During the same visit, using various American archival collections, Sivachev collected also the new material about the American working-class movement during the New Deal reforms in 1933–36. As early as September of 1964, he finished his new book manuscript, which was discussed and approved for publication by his colleagues from the MGU Depart- ment of Modern and Contemporary History. 31 In October of 1966, using his American materials, Sivachev delivered a report to his colleagues about his new research project, which opened a completely new topic for Soviet historiography: “labor legislation in the US.” I. Galkin, chair of the department, was so impressed by Sivachev’s report that he “immediately proposed to request a recommendation from the Ministry of Higher Education . . . to send Sivachev again for a half a year research trip in America.” 32 As a result of this recommendation, Sivachev visited the United States a second time in November of 1967 as a Soviet official in charge of the Soviet exhibition “Education in the USSR” supported by the official letters of recommendation from the Soviet leadership, including one signed by his official “supervisor,” L. Bazhanov, a “KGB man” from the USSR Ministry of Education. 33 Starting in late 1967, Sivachev visited the United States on regular basis; eventually, he became the most famous and the most respected Soviet academic visitor in America, especially during détente. American scholars contrasted Sivachev as a talented researcher to other Soviet “not very interesting visitors, who were curiosi- ties but not serious scholars.” As they reported to IREX, Sivachev “impressed everybody very much with his knowledge of American institutions.” 34 After his American visits and intensive archival research, Sivachev prepared two book manuscripts about labor and government relations in U.S. history before and during WWII. 35 By 1975, Nikolai Sivachev became the best representative of Soviet Ameri- canists in all the exchanges programs of the détente era. Sivachev was also a good scholar, a serious historian-researcher, and a very good psychologist who understood very well what the American partners expected from the Soviet guests. In contrast to his image of a “pedantic boring university professor” and

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 “orthodox communist ideologist” for his Soviet students and colleagues, Siv- achev projected a very different image of himself for his American colleagues. For Americans, he always looked optimistic; smiled; was open-minded, humor- ous, and ready for discussions; tried to avoid any ideological debates; and distanced himself from the explicit communist propagandist clichés. 36 As one American host praised Sivachev’s research and communicative skills in 1975:

Sivachev . . . steers away from Sovietologists in general (his field is US internal politics) but has been good with me because I provided him with connections (with VIPs) he couldn’t establish otherwise—and took his 248 Sergei I. Zhuk pictures posing with these VIPs which he values a great deal. He is relatively young, ambitious, extremely hard working, especially for a teaching professor, in collecting archival and bibliographic data; he knows what he wants and has a great deal of determination . . . on his part, he was very considerate in not taking too much of my time, and quite informative about general intellectual trends in Moscow. A stout Russian nationalist (although a Mordovian, ethnically), he was a curious contrast with the more ideologically oriented visitors. . . . Since his first visit to the US he has developed rather broad connections (once he was a house guest of Eleanor Roosevelt, and knew my friend Henry A. Wallace) but remained a rather modest sort. There is an authentic strength in this fellow, and he will go far in my judgment. 37

Using his new American connections during the 1970s, Sivachev obtained a contract with the University of Chicago Press to publish a book in English about the history of U.S.-Soviet relations. He contacted Nikolai Yakovlev, another talented Soviet historian-Americanist, nevyezdnoi , but very pro- lific writer who collaborated with the KGB, and invited Yakovlev to be a coauthor of the American book. Through this contact with Yakovlev, Siv- achev received official KGB permission for collaboration with this Ameri- can publishing house. Then, using IREX funding, Sivachev spent six months in 1978–79 and two months in 1980 reading the proofs of their book and collecting material on American labor-government relations. In 1980, Siv- achev not only published the book in the United States but also served as a visiting fellow in the Department of Government at Dartmouth College. 38 Moreover, Sivachev helped many of his MGU students establish the necessary connections in America and obtained the official invitations and funding by American hosts. Sivachev had supervised a research work of Vladimir Sogrin since 1967, assisting him with obtaining the new literature on the history of the ideology of political elites in the United States. Finally, in 1979, Siv- achev directed Sogrin to the topic of the American War of Independence and its ideology. He recommended his former student for IREX funding. As a result of Sivachev’s “American connections” and his research visits in the US, Sogrin wrote his pioneering studies on the history of American ideology, which incorporated the original American material, suggested by Sivachev as 39

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 early as the late 1960s. Another famous Soviet Americanist, Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, a historian of Russian-American relations during the late eighteenth through the nineteenth centuries, began visiting the United States in 1968. Bolkhovitinov came to America with an established reputation of a serious historian, visiting the major research centers and archival collections on East and West coast, giving public lectures, and meeting his American colleagues and impressing them with his erudition and knowledge of the historic material. Moreover, Bolkhovitinov was one of the pioneers of the concept of “people’s diplomacy” in the international history of diplomacy, which attracted “Academic Détente” 249 American specialists in U.S. diplomatic history. As Bolkhovitinov explained his concept in 1980:

In the past historians of international relations very seldom studied socio- political, scientific and cultural ties. Their attention was centered on inter-state and, first and foremost, diplomatic relations, on the activity of prominent statesmen, famous generals and diplomats, tsars and presidents. This left out of the history of international relations the principal element, the peopl e, as represented by the finest, most educated and active personages—scholars, public figures, men of letters, journalists. I see my main merit in trying to overcome this shortcoming and to study relations between Russia and the USA in their fullest dimension, com- prehensively, including the history of trade, socio-political, scientific and cultural ties, the history of Russian America, the business contacts of Russian ‘promyshlenniki’ (fur traders) and Boston merchant-sailors, and other connections. 40

During Bolkhovitinov’s visit of 1968, the historians from Harvard Univer- sity decided to translate his book into English and publish it in the United States, and Robert Webb, an editor-in-chief of the prestigious American His- torical Review, after attending Bolkhovitinov’s lecture about American studies in the USSR, decided to publish this lecture in his journal. 41 Through the entire 1970s, American hosts expressed their respect for such a decent and competent historian as Bolkhovitinov and kept inviting him to visit America. As Professor Jack P. Greene from Johns Hopkins University noted, “I think the only one serious Soviet scholar of modern US history, who visited the United States during the détente, was Bolkhovitinov.” 42 Because of his conflict with the KGB, Bolkhovitinov was not allowed to spend more than a month annually visiting the United States during the 1970s. Despite this conflict, the KGB was unable to stop Bolkhovitnov visiting America. By 1976, in both Soviet and American archives, he collected rare important documents that illustrated the establishment of Russian-American diplomatic relations over the course of 1807–09. Due to the diplomacy of détente, both Soviet and American diplomats and political leaders frequently referred to these documents as the beginning of Russian-U.S. relations. As

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 a result, the U.S. Department of State and the USSR Ministry of Foreign Affairs commissioned the official publication of these documents. 43 Therefore, Bolkhovitnov’s research attracted the attention of Soviet and American diplomats, and he was invited to lead the project of these documents’ publication. Bolkhovitinov’s books were translated and published in English in the United States, and he became one of the editors of the documentary publication sponsored by the Soviet and American government. 44 Bolkhovitinov brought the huge collection of documents and American dissertations on various issues of U.S. history and deposited this collection in Moscow libraries. Moreover, he always tried to help his nevyezdnoi colleagues, bringing the copies of important 250 Sergei I. Zhuk documents from U.S. archives. In this way, he brought the copies of documents on seventeenth-century Virginia in 1976 to Sergei Burin, who was not allowed to travel abroad and who was writing his dissertation about the social history of the English colonies Virginia and Maryland. Using his connections in the Library of Congress and other American libraries, Bolkhovitinov also organized a subscription of various American historical magazines for central Soviet libraries. 45 All the Soviet historians-Americanists who were active participants of the academic exchanges not only incorporated the new findings of their American colleagues in their own scholarship but also began the publication of their own analysis of the major developments in U.S. history writing and of the contemporary trends in American historiography. 46 Overall, during the 1970s, after their visits to America, Soviet Americanists-historians produced a variety of new research topics in U.S. history: a comparison of the eighteenth-century American and French Revolutions and American revolutionary ideology (A. Fursenko and Sogrin); the agrarian question and farmers’ movement in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (G. Kuropiatnik and E. Yaz’kov); the Civil War and Reconstruction (R. Ivanov and A. Blinov), American “Progressives” and liberal “reformers” (I. Beliavskaia and Sogrin); the anthropological history of American Indians (Yu. Averkieva and A. Vashchenko); the history of immigration in Amer- ica (A. Shlepakov and L. Leshchenko); the traditionally popular themes of American working-class history (I. Krasnov, V. Mal’kov, B. Mikhailov and Sivachev); and the “diplomacy and ideology of US imperialism” (I. Demen- tiev and A. Fursenko). 47 During the same time, Soviet Americanists followed certain “discursive strategies” in publications of the results of their research in America. The Soviet state both tried to control professional Americanists and needed their expertise, and this resulted in a tangled and paradoxical structure of discourse. State and party officials promoted those practices that fit the contemporary political agenda, while Americanists sought legitimation and support from those in power. Tensions within both official political discourse and professional Americanists’ discourses produced considerable room for maneuver and negotiation. For many Soviet Americanists, who visited America, the safest discursive

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 strategy in presenting their American findings was accepting the authoritative (ruling) discourse of orthodox Marxism:

[N]ot searching for truth, but merely attempting to document a precon- ception [of Marxist ideology]. As some Americans noted, some of their Soviet guests visited libraries and archives [in the US] not for the kind of serious and prolonged study . . . but basically to indicate in [their] preface that [they] had visited a large number of American libraries and archives. [Our] impression also was that [they] sought quotations, lists, and information of that kind to buttress conclusions [they] had already reached. 48 “Academic Détente” 251 This strategy, which I call “conformist,” became the most popular among a majority of Soviet Americanists. Unfortunately, the depth of understanding of the United States among the older generation remained very shallow. A majority of these first professional Soviet Americanists were burdened by the Marxist belief system, image structures, and categories of analysis. They suffered from a great deal of cognitive dissonance and simply looked for evidence to confirm their preconceived images of how the United States functioned. 49 Another strategy was developed by Soviet Americanists who resented propaganda clichés of the Stalin era and the official Cold War discourse. These Americanists frequently turned to what some scholars called “internalist” historical narratives as a means of both analysis and self-protection. That is, they tried to avoid any serious analytical approach that could be presented as non- Marxist theoretical deviation by the ideological censors and instead emphasized the inner logic of the historical development of the United States. Some Americanists, like Bolkhovitinov, began to gravitate toward an internalist approach, and their main concern became “objectivity,” meaning an effort to ground their narrative in hard facts from archival documents rather than in purely ideological or speculative interpretations. 50 For this reason, Soviet Americanists took to filling their works with “factological” material and made little or no attempt to analyze and interpret it. This strategy was politically safe, and, at the same time, the author could demonstrate some personal intellectual independence by disregarding Marxist-Leninist interpretive clichés. The ideological censors of the day could not point to “bias” in a research work in which there was no explicit analysis and facts “spoke for themselves.” Another discursive strategy commonly practiced by the Soviet American- ists was to use criticism of recent Western scholarship as an introduction of the new ideas to the Soviet reader. According to contemporaries, titles like “The Criticism of the Recent Concepts of Bourgeois Falsifiers” served more than once as an umbrella for discussion of scholarly ideas that would otherwise be inaccessible in printed form in the USSR. Some Americanists still remember how, in the 1970s, they began a serious study of U.S. political science by reading such “critical anti-American” literature, written by the recent participants in IREX academic exchanges programs. For the class discussions about the American political system, Sivachev and his students used different editions of such books, which eventually became the “Soviet classics of anti- 51

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 American political science.” The most important version of the “critical” discursive strategy was the so- called strategy of the “critical recommendations and advising.” In this way, Soviet Americanists used their criticism of the recent American scholarship and American realities as a goal to offer practical recommendations about Soviet historiography, social science, politics, culture, economy, and diplomacy. During the 1970s and 80s, the researchers from ISKAN and IMEMO, who just recently had returned from the United States, prepared the published recommendations for Soviet political leadership about various economic, political, and diplomatic problems by using American economic and political 252 Sergei I. Zhuk experience. 52 After visiting America, Americanists-historians, such as Bolk- hovitinov and Sivachev, recommended Soviet scholars study and use the new research methods of the recent American scholarship, especially the works by the representatives of “new social,” “new economic” and “new political” histories. 53 The recent visitors to America not only organized the All-Union conferences, promoting the new research methods of their American colleagues in the USSR, but also supported the academic career of their talented students such as Sergei Stankevich, who studied U.S. presidential campaigns using the approaches of American “new political historians.” 54 According to contemporaries, the most important advisers in the process of buying U.S. films and commenting on them for the Soviet audiences were those Soviet experts who worked in ISKAN. They not only published highly acclaimed books about the U.S. cinema during the 1970s but also submitted their recommendations about the most popular and “progressive” American films to Soviet leadership. 55 As a result of ISKAN Americanists’ “advising strategy,” Soveksportfilm released six U.S. films in 1974; in 1977, twelve American films were among the 63 films released from socialist countries and 67 movies from capitalist countries; and during 1979–82, an average of eight U.S. movies were released annually. 56 In 1976, Soviet ideologists sponsored a special conference with a participation of ISKAN’s experts to discuss the problems of American cinema and U.S. feature films that were appropriate for the Soviet audiences. 57 During this conference, Viacheslav Shestakov, a Soviet historian of U.S. films who was funded by IREX for his research trip to the United States in 1974–75, delivered a special report about the recent “democratic progressive” trends in Hollywood and recommended the leaders of Goskino buy films by Francis Coppola, Martin Scorsese, and other “talented” American film directors. Yuri Zamoshkin and other Soviet participants of IREX programs joined Shestakov in his criticism of “lack of professionalism” of those Soviet film critics, who “rejected all, even anti-capitalist progressive, American films as mere bourgeois propaganda.” 58 After 1979, with an access to the new American videotape recording techniques, the experts in U.S. cinema, such as A. Muliarchik and Shestakov, organized special show- ings of new U.S. movies at ISKAN on a regular basis. These Americanists played an instrumental role in the mass release of the majority of U.S. movies in the Soviet Union during the Brezhnev era. 59 Soviet Americanists employed

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 flexible discursive strategies to convey the desired meaning without violating the constraints of the then politically acceptable language. In practice, Soviet Americanists mixed various discursive strategies together. But the strategy of “critical recommendations” usually became the most prominent in their discursive practices after their frequent research visits in America. Overall, the longer Soviet Americanists stayed in the United States, the more positive impressions of America they developed and brought back in the USSR. They improved their English-language speaking ability and communicative skills and gained professional experience as the experts in U.S. history, politics, and culture, “not only working at the American archives and “Academic Détente” 253 libraries, but also participating in everyday life of ordinary Americans, going shopping, watching ‘sitcom’ series on American television, and the new Hol- lywood blockbusters in American movie theaters.” After frequent visits to the United States and long stays there in the 1970s, many Soviet Americanists recalled how they “developed great admiration for the West, for the United States . . . respect for the country, its strength, its people.” 60 All Soviet Ameri- canists noted how important the personal contacts with Americans were for their own “discovery” of America and the construction of their mental images of American society and culture. Both Bolkhovitinov and Fursenko acknowledged that living with Americans in their homes and in the student dorms influenced them more than just their business and academic relations. Bolk- hovitinov recalled how, in 1968, staying in the dorm of Cornell University, he spent the nights talking with local students, discussing political and cultural problems such as the Vietnam War and music. 61 He came to America “with preconceived notions about the internal crisis in American capitalist society,” and he eventually realized that these notions were wrong. He saw “how talented were these young members of American society” and “how they were capable of critical self-analysis and self-government. They were more self- efficient and self-reliable than our Soviet youth,” recalled Bolkhovitinov after witnessing American college students “organizing their own meetings, dancing parties and keeping order and respect for human dignity for everyone without any hierarchical distinctions, which were typical for Soviet society” in those days. 62 Soviet guests were impressed not only with the good conditions of life and research in America but also with the optimism, energy, and individual initiative of ordinary Americans. Both their reports to their Soviet administration and the reports of their American hosts reflected this positive reaction. As one American host noted in 1973, Soviet Americanist A. Fursenko was overwhelmed not only with research capacities in U.S. colleges but also with his cordial reception by Americans, which led to “mutual understanding”:

The greatest mutual benefit, I would judge, came from Mr. Fursenko’s stay at my house. We have known each other for 16 years and corresponded on professional matters. He knows that I know something of the hidden aspects of Soviet life and treat them with some compassion; he knows I will not be critical of his country. He also appreciated being taken into my

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 family and receive an inside view of American society, without embellish- ment or ostentation. He in turn freely shared with us his family problems (though my wife did not convert him to women’s lib). At any rate, we managed to establish and to deepen a basic human trust between us which transcends all differences of nationality and ideology. He is a sincere person, genuinely interested in understanding American realities without ideological blinders, though a patriotic citizen of the Soviet Union and conforming to its politics. He considers it his mission to bring American realities closer to the Soviet public, rejoicing over the current détente in Soviet-American relations. 63 254 Sergei I. Zhuk The discursive practices of Soviet scholars reflected not only their research work in America but their “face to face communication with American colleagues as well.” As some scholars noted later, “these personal ties and this intellectual cross-fertilization, together with détente’s exposure to foreign life, powerfully abetted the rise of a global outlook during the era of stagnation.” 64

Conclusion Academic détente as the entire relaxation of the international relations during the Brezhnev era had a very limited and elitist character, especially for American studies in the USSR. According to the available documents, no more than 600 Soviet Americanists visited the United States during this time, and almost 80 percent of these Soviet academic visitors were representatives of academic and state officials, with only four female scholars (less than one percent). It was a predominantly male community of Soviet visitors. Sometimes, the talented and young Soviet scholars could manage to get to America as “supporting assistants” [soprovozhdaiushchie ] of Soviet state apparatchiks. The most typical cases were the “American” visits of young Sivachev in 1967 as “an assistant” of the official from the USSR Ministry of Education and of Shestakov “assisting” V. Baskakov, a director of the USSR Institute of Cinematic History and Theory of the State Committee for Cinematography, during their official visit in 1974. The social background of Soviet visitors also reflected the elitist character of Soviet academic détente:—more than 70 percent of Soviet researchers in America came from the families of Soviet intellectual and party elite, and almost 80 percent of them represented the research centers (such as ISKAN and IMEMO) from only one city—Moscow. Overall, the discursive practices of Soviet Americanists fit the Soviet authoritative discourse. But after their American visits, many, especially young Soviet researchers, added to the prevailing “factological” discursive strategies of their new scenario of “critical recommendations and advising.” They criticized their American counterparts; at the same time, they not only advised Soviet leadership about American politics, economy, and culture but also popularized American realities, cultural products, theories, and approaches among ordinary Soviet audiences. Unfortunately, Soviet Ameri- canists’ “advising practices” also had a limited and uneven character during

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the Brezhnev era. Soviet leaders used the ISKAN and IMEMO policy analysts’ advice and recommendations about U.S. policy and diplomacy up to 1979. Not until perestroika did Americanists resume their active “advising” functions for Soviet politicians. Soviet leaders also ignored major recommendations of Americanists about the dissemination of U.S. cultural products in the USSR. Only a limited number of U.S. movies from the lists recommended by ISKAN experts was selected by Goskino for showing in Soviet movie theaters. The most recommended (by Americanists) films, such as The Godfather and Apocalypse Now, were never released in the Soviet Union. Soviet historians also had limited success in promoting the new theoretical approaches from “Academic Détente” 255 America. Their publications were censored, and they were punished by bans for their travel to America for the slightest “ideological deviation.” But in a longer historical perspective, Soviet participation in academic détente was successful. Soviet Americanists began their own participation in the creation of an international community of scholars, becoming partners in academic exchange with their American colleagues. They established good relations not only with American experts in U.S. history, politics, and culture but also with American specialists in Russian/Soviet studies. To some extent, participation of Soviet Americanists in this international community would not only shape the development of American studies in the USSR but also influence Russian studies in America. After visiting America, Soviet Americanists became hosts for American guests and experts in Russian studies, building strong personal connections with them—Bolkhovitinov with Norman Saul, Sivachev with Donald Raleigh, Vladimir Sogrin with Saul and Alfred Rieber, etc. Eventually, through these personal connections, Soviet Americanists and their American colleagues created the important academic international network, which involved their students as well and which survived the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. Paradoxically, as a result of expanding this network during the 1990s, not only American Sovietologists benefited from these connections but the entire field of Russian studies in America became influenced by former Soviet Americanists, students of Arba- tov, Bolkhovitinov, Sivachev, and Fursenko. Using this network, these former Soviet scholars, such as Vladislav Zubok (an expert in Carter’s presidential campaign), Sergei Plekhanov (a scholar of American political science), Andrei Znamenskii (a specialist in history and anthropology of American Indians), and myself (an expert in the social history of colonial New York and Pennsylvania) moved to North America and now teach Russian history and politics there.

Notes 1. Interview with Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, May 21, 2001, Moscow. 2. Besides Arbatov’s memoirs, I use Bolkhovitinov’s personal materials. Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, “How I Became a Historian,” Journal of American Studies 14, 1 (1980): 103–14; ibid.; “O vremeni i o sebe: zametki istorika,” Istoriki Rossii . Vypusk 1 (Moscow, 1997), 67–80. I use his memoirs: Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, Vospomi- naniia (Moscow: Nauka, 2005) [unpublished, typewritten manuscript of 62 pages, Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 which begins with the crossed title “Schastlivaia pora detstva” (The Happy Time of Childhood)] (hereafter— Vospominaniia ). 3. Robert English, Russia and Idea of the West: Gorbachev, Intellectuals, and the End of the Cold War (New York: Columbia University Press, 2000); Vladislav Zubok, Zhivago’s Children: The Last Russian Intelligentsia (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Uni- versity Press, 2009); and Andrei Kozovoi, Par-delà le mur La culture de guerre froide soviétique entre deux détentes (Paris, 2009). See also the idealistic biographies of the major Soviet Americanists: B. D. Kozenko, “Igor Petrovich Dementiev,” Portrety istorikov: vremia i sud’by, Vol. 4, Ed. by G. Sevostianov (Moscow: Nauka, 2004), 143–156; A. Manykin, V. Sogrin, “Nikolai Vasilievich Sivachev,” ibid., 422–436; A. Yu. Petrov, “Bolkhovitinov Nikolai Nikolaevich (1930–2008),” Portrety 256 Sergei I. Zhuk istorikov: vremia i sud’by, Vol. 5, Ed. by G. Sevostianov (Moscow: Nauka 2010), 163–177; B. Kozenko and I. Kurilla, “Ivanov Robert Fedorovich (1925–2003),” ibid., 270–283; R. Ganelin, V. Noskov, and V. Pleshkov, “Fursenko Aleksandr Aleksandrovich (1922–2004),” ibid., 555–571. 4. English, Op. cit., 126. Compare with the Soviet point of view in E. A. Dudzins- kaia, Mezhdunarodnye nauchnye sviazi sovetskikh istorikov (Moscow: Nauka, 1978). 5. I use interviews with Ivanov, Bolkhovitinov, and especially with Leonid Lesh- chenko, June 26, 2013, Kyiv. In the files, I found only the names of four female Soviet visitors such as Irina Beliavskaia and Marina Vlasova from Moscow. 6. Library of Congress, Archival Manuscript Collection, International Research and Exchanges Board (IREX) [hereafter—LC. IREX], RC 237, F 13 (1977). See an IREX paper dated September 20, 1977, with a handwritten description of ISKAN as “a Spy Institute.” 7. G. Arbatov, The System, 289–290, 292. Arbatov explained that as late as 1968 even he, director of the new USA Institute, still had not a single American acquaintance because “given the restrictions of the times . . . I didn’t even have the right to initiate such contacts.” See also R. English, Op. cit., 148. 8. Two colleagues from the Department of History at the Johns Hopkins Univer- sity, who represented the fields of Russian History (Jeffrey Brooks) and U.S. His- tory (Jack P. Greene), expressed similar thoughts almost the same time—in April 1999 during conversation with me. Alfred Rieber (in 1998–99) confirmed this as well. As Norman Saul mentioned earlier, in 1975, “academic détente was part of [Soviet Americanists’] mission to this country.” See in LC. IREX. RC 228, F 18, 2. 9. See his publication in which he describes his career in the Far East: G. P. Sevos- tianov, Ekspansionistskaia politika SShA na Dal’nem Vostoke, v Kitaie, i Koreie v 1905–1911 gg. (Moscow: Gos. izd-vo Polit. lit-ry, 1958). After this book, he stopped writing anything original. But as a head of the “American” sector since 1967, he had been editing mainly the collective works of his sector’s colleagues. See an official Soviet publication, openly praising the professional background of Sevostianov as a Soviet spy/KGB intelligence officer before his academic career in 1950. It was published in a rubric “ Nauchnaia zhizn ” (Scholarly Life)” in Amerikan- skii ezhegodnik during perestroika. See S. N. Burin, “K 75-letiiu akademika G. N. Sevostianova,” AE 1990 (Moscow, 1991), 211–215. After his “spy career” in Bye- lorussia and Far East, Sevostianov was sent by the KGB to the High Diplomatic School of the USSR Ministry of Foreign Affairs in 1947, where he graduated with a freshly written kandidatskaia dissertation. He defended this dissertation in 1950, when he was recommended by the KGB to be hired by the Institute of History. In 1960, he defended his doctoral dissertation and was appointed in September of 1967 as an acting head of the sector of history of the United States and Canada at the same institute. In April of 1969, Sevostianov was officially approved as a chair of this sector. 10. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 17 (1974–75), and LC. IREX. RC 228, F 18, citation from a letter by Allen Kassof, December 26, 1974. Compare with my interviews with Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, Robert Ivanov, Aleksandr Fursenko, and Aaron Ya. Gurevich (March 19, 1991) and their very negative relations to the “KGB general” Sevostianov; they characterized Sevostianov as “the worst enemy of Ameri- can people” and as the “Soviet hawk of the Cold War.” 11. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 18, 2: “After consultations with faculty and administration and subsequent conversations with Dr. Sevostianov in Washington by myself, . . . it was decided to extend a proposal for a joint Soviet-American conference on World War II to be held in Lawrence in the fall of 1976, including a joint publication of papers. The State Department and American Historical Association were also consulted in regard to this project, which was presented to Dr. Sevostianov by Professor John T. Alexander in Moscow in May.” “Academic Détente” 257 12. These phrases were mentioned by Vlasova; compare with interview with Donald Raleigh, May 16, 2012. 13. LC. IREX. RC 161, F 25, IREX Memorandum, August 27, 1973, and letter of Cynthia Scott, February 26, 1974. 14. Ibid. 15. LC. IREX. RC 187, F 13, Sergei Plekhanov’s file, praising his erudition. 16. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 45, letter by Eugene B. Skolnikoff, June 22, 1976, 1–2. 17. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 45, letter by Julia Holm, July 14, 1976, 1–2. Another problem about which IREX officials began complaining after 1975 was the KGB trying to stop the serious researchers from going to the United States: “Support for dis- sidents among American scientists is growing steadily and I am very curious to see if their actions might not positively affect the quality of scholars coming here.” 18. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 54, letter by John K. Fairbank, June 27, 1975. On May 12, 1975, IREX Memorandum recommended to finance (from 3–4 weeks) visit of talented Soviet sociologist, “which would promise to lead us beyond the kind of academic tourism which [existed in early years].” See in LC. IREX. RC 161, F 29. 19. LC. IREX. RC 91, F 1 (1963–68). See Folder: “Trip to USA of P. I. Shitov, from Department of Foreign Relations, Ministry of Higher Education, March (4–27), 1968.” He went to visit colleges and universities in the United States where Soviet students stayed. See a special handwritten note with the complaints about Shitov’s visit from IREX representatives. 20. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 68, letter by Donald Fleming from Charles Warren Center at Harvard, April 6, 1976, about a visit by Igor Dementiev. The similar unenthusias- tic report about E. Yaz’kov’s visit is placed in the same folder under F 85. 21. LC. IREX. RC 187, F 25, letter by Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., New York, Novem- ber 15, 1979. 22. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 17, letter by Marshall Shulman, January 24, 1975. 23. Look though the entire IREX file for the Year 1975 with recommendations to provide the Soviet analysts with all necessary information about the U.S. economy. LC. IREX. RC 228, F 17. I quote a phrase, “Soviet powerful people,” from my interview with late Richard Stites, November 18, 2008, Philadelphia. 24. See Arbatov, The System , 202, and English, Op. cit., 163–164, 165. 25. LC. IREX. RC 31, F 26, 2. 26. Both Sevostianov and Bolkhovitinov (from IVI) became close friends of the American expert in the Russian history, Norman Saul. Sivachev (from MGU) became the friend of an American historian of Soviet Russia, Donald Raleigh. Sivachev’s student, Vladimir Sogrin (from IVI), still is a good friend of Norman Saul and has close, friendly connections with Alfred Rieber, an American historian of imperial Russia. 27. Interview with Yale Richmond, May 9, 2012. 28. I use the phrase coined by Professor Alfred Rieber from the University of Pennsyl- vania from: LC. IREX. RC 21, F 113, letter by Alfred Rieber, May 31, 1972, 1. 29. LC. IREX. RC 68, F 36, 25. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 30. The result of this visit was the first (kandidatskaia) dissertation, published later as a book: Nikolai V. Sivachev, Politicheskaia bor’ba v SShA v seredine 30-kh godov XX v. (Moscow: Izd-vo Moskovskogo universiteta, 1966). 31. Arkhiv MGU, f. 9, op. 8, d. 917, ll. 2, 8. Even the Soviet policy analysts present praised this manuscript. 32. Arkhiv MGU, f. 9, op. 8, d. 1009, l. 14. 33. See about this in LC. IREX. RC 68, F 36, p. 23, 25, and letter of L. Bazhanov, November 28, 1967. Compare with my interviews with Bolkhovitinov, Yale Rich- mond, and Donald Raleigh and Yale Richmond, Cultural Exchange and the Cold War: Raising the Iron Curtain (University Park, PA: Penn State University Press, 2003), 43–44. Sivachev’s colleagues spread rumors about Sivachev’s establishing 258 Sergei I. Zhuk official KGB connections during this visit to the United States in 1967 (Interview with Robert Ivanov and Igor Dementiev, March 21, 1991, Moscow, IVI, USSR Academy of Sciences). 34. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 113 (1972), 2. 35. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 39 (1976); Nikolai V. Sivachev, Pravovoe regulirovanie tru- dovykh otnoshenii v SSHA (Moscow: IUrid.͡ lit, 1972), idem, Rabochaia politika pravitel’tva SShA v gody vtoroi mirovoi voiny (Moscow: Izd-vo Mosk. un-ta, 1974). His major findings were summarized in his last book: idem, SSHA: Gosudarstvo i rabochii klass: (ot obrazovaniia Soedinennykh Shtatov Ameriki do okonchaniia vtoroi mirovoi voiny) (Moscow: Mysl, 1982). 36. Various people, such as his former MGU students Vladislav Zubok and Marina Vlasova, and his American colleague Donald Raleigh noted this. 37. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 17, Vladimir Petrov’s letter of February 3, 1975, 2. 38. LC. IREX. RC 180, F 66 (1978–80). Nikolai Sivachev and Nikolai Yakovlev, Rus- sia and the United States: U.S.-Soviet Relations from the Soviet Point of View (Chi- cago: University of Chicago Press, 1980). 39. LC. IREX. RC 187, F 48 (1979). See about a recommendation of Sogrin for the MGU graduate program in Arkhiv MGU, f. 9, op. 8, d. 1009, l. 93. Among his books see: V. V. Sogrin, Istoki sovremennoi burzhuaznoi ideologii v SShA (Moscow: Nauka, 1975); idem, Ideinyie techenia v Amerikanskoi revoliutsii XVIII veka (Moscow, 1980), and idem, Osnovateli SShA: Istoricheskie portrety (Moscow: Nauka, 1983). 40. Bolkhovitinov, “How I Became a Historian,” 111. 41. Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, “The Study of United States History in the Soviet Union,” American Historical Review 74, No. 4 (1979): 1221–1242. See Bolkho- vitinov, Vospominania, 47–48, 50, 53. See also his official academic report about his visit to the United States in 1968: N. N. Bolkhovitinov, “V arkhivakh i bib- liotekakh SSHA: nakhodki, vstrechi, vpechatlenia,” AE. 1971 , 329–340, compare with his essay: idem, “O vremeni i o sebe,” 73–74. 42. Interview with Jack P. Greene, September 15, 1998, Baltimore. See how Ameri- can historians praised Bolkhovitinov: Marcus Rediker, “The Old Guard, the New Guard, and the People at the Gates: New Approaches to the Study of American History in the USSR,” William and Mary Quarterly 3rd Ser., 48 (October 1991): 580–597; John T. Alexander, “Catherine the Great and the Rats,” in Adventures in Russian Historical Research: Reminiscences of American Scholars from the Cold War to the Present, Ed. by Samuel H. Baron and Cathy A. Frierson (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 2003), 54, 56, 58; Donald J. Raleigh, “A Journey from St. Petersburg to Saratov,” ibid., 145. See also the best biographical essay about Bolkhovitinov in Russian: B. N. Komissarov, “As otechestvennoi amerikanistiki (k 70-letiiu N.N. Bolkhovitinova),” in Russkoe otkrytie Ameriki. Sbornik statei, posviashchionnyi 70-letiu akademika Nikolaia Nikolaievicha Bolkhovitinova , Ed. by A. O. Chubarian (Moscow: ROSSPEN, 2002), 8–33. 43. See Bolkhovitinov, Vospominania , 50–51, 52, 53. 44. Nikolai Bolkhovitinov, The Beginnings of Russian-American Relations, 1775–1815 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1975); idem, Russko-amerikanskie otnosheniia, 1815–1832 (Moscow: Nauka, 1975); idem, Russia and the American Revolution (Tallahassee, FL: Diplomatic Press, 1975); Rossiia i SShA: stanovlenie otnoshenii, 1765–1815: Sbornik dokumentov (Moscow: Nauka, 1980); The United States and Russia: The Beginning of Relations, 1765–1815: Collection of Documents , Ed. by N. N. Bashkina, N. N. Bolkhovitinov, J. H. Brown et al. (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1980). 45. Interview with Sergei Burin. Using the material brought by Bolkhovitinov from America, Burin eventually defended his dissertation in 1978: S. N. Burin, Sotsial’nye protivorechiia i konflikty v Virginii i Marilende (1642–1676) : Avtoref. dis. . . . kand. ist. nauk (Moscow: Nauka, 1978). “Academic Détente” 259 46. The best study of the new trends in U.S. historiography was written by Bolkho- vitinov as a result of his research trips to US: Nikolai N. Bolkhovitinov, SShA: Problemy istorii. 47. See the best summary of the Soviet history writing about U.S. history in: Bolkho- vitinov, SShA: Problemy istorii, 339–378. Compare with another survey: N. Siv- achev and I. Savel’eva, “American Labor in Recent Soviet Historiography,” Labor History 18, 3 (Summer 1977): 407–432. 48. LC. IREX. RC 229, F 15, Ivan M. Krasnov’s file, letter by Robert F. Byrnes, May 23, 1972. LC. IREX., RC 21, F 113. 49. Compare with the similar developments among Chinese Americanists in David Shambaugh, Op. cit., 283. 50. See the similar developments in American historiography in Peter Novick, That Noble Dream: The “Objectivity Question” and the American Historical Profession (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988). 51. See the most popular among Moscow Americanists books, written by the Soviet participants in IREX programs: V. G. Kalenskii, Politicheskaia nauka v S. Sh. A. Kritika burzhuaznykh kontseptsii vlasti (Moscow: IUrid.͡ lit, 1969) and Amerikanskoe obshchestvennoe mnenie i politika, Ed. by Iu. Zamoshkin (Moscow: Nauka, 1978). Marina Vlasova mentioned this fact in her interview. 52. I refer to Prognozy razvitia avtomatizatsii proizvodstva v mashinostroenii v SShA (Mos- cow: ISKAN, 1978) and many other documents, such “the untitled internal institute document reviewing ISKAN’s main policy recommendations of 1968–79,” provided by a former ISKAN Deputy Director Sergei Plekhanov to Robert English in July 1991, quoted in English, Op. cit, 156. See also a detailed description of various “analytical reports,” submitted by ISKAN Americanists to the Soviet government in Barbara L. Dash, A Defector Reports , 10–12. 53. See discussions of the new methods in Sivachev’s research in Arkhiv MGU, f. 9, op. 8, d. 917, part 1, l. 8, and Bolkhovitinov, SShA: Problemy istorii, 22, 23 ff. 54. See about this strategy of advising in the list of activities during the 1970s in: Nikolai Nikolaievich Bolkhovitinov, Ed. by L. V. Shut’ko et al. (Moscow: Nauka, 2002), 4–6, 44–52. About Stankevich’s research, see S. Stankevich, “’Novaia eko- nomicheskaia politika’ administratsii R. Niksona v 1971–1974 gg.,” AE (1986): 5–23. 55. Viacheslav Shestakov, Amerika v zerkale ekrana: Amerikanskoe kino 70-kh godov (Moscow: Bi͡uro propagandy sov. kinoiskusstva, 1977); Na ekrane Amerika Collec- tion, edited by I. E. Kokarev (Moscow: Progress, 1978); Amerikanskaia khudozhestvennaia kul’tura v sotsial’no-politicheskom kontekste 70-kh godov 20 veka, edited by A. S. Muliarchik and V. P. Shestakov (Moscow: Nauka, 1982). 56. Sovetskii ekran, 1971, No. 24, 19; 1972, No. 24, 17; 1974, No. 24, 17;1977, No. 24, 17; 1979, No. 24, 15; 1981, No. 24, 15; 1982, No. 22, 15; Iskusstvo kino , 1980, No. 6, 192. See about the influences of American movies on the Soviet audiences during the Brezhnev era in: Sergei I. Zhuk, “Zapad v sovetskom ‘zakrytom’ gorode: ‘chuzhoe’ kino, ideologiia i problemy kul’turnoi identichnosti na Ukraine Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 v brezhnevskuiu epokhu (1864–1982 gody),” Novoe literaturnoe obozrenie 100, 6 (2009): 548–565. 57. See about this conference in Valery Golovskoy, “Amerikanskoe kino—“za” i “pro- tiv” (konferentsia 1976 goda),” idem, Eto bylo nedavno . . . Izbarannye publikat- sii za 30 let (Baltimore, MD: Seagull Press, 2010), 156–163. See also his essay, “Amerikanskie fil’my na sovetskikh ekranakh (1957–1980),” Golovskoy, Eto bylo nedavno , 169–177. 58. Valery Golovskoy, “Amerikanskoe kino,” 161, 162–163; LC. IREX. RC 228, F 43, “about visit of Viacheslav Shestakov (Nov. 1974-April 1975) from the Institute of Cinematic History and Theory of the State Committee for Cinematography,” and RC 237, F26: about visit of Yuri Zamoshkin from ISKAN, Nov.–Dec. 1977. 260 Sergei I. Zhuk 59. See my e-mail correspondence with Vladislav Zubok, May 28, 2013, and Golovs- koy, May 8, 2013. Golovskoy recalled how a chair of the Goskino F. Ermash and other representatives of Soviet administration discussed a possibility of the Soviet release of U.S. movies such as The Godfather and Apocalypse Now , which were shown for the “selected audiences” in Moscow during the end of the 1970s. See in Golovskoy, “Amerikanskoe kino,” p. 158–159. 60. I quoted my Interview with Robert F. Ivanov, Moscow, June 25, 1991, and English, Op. cit., 150. Another Soviet Americanist who became a diplomat noted, “You start to resemble the people, the country, where you work, and this was especially so for those who worked on the USA. It took a higher level of professionalism and culture, and such experience changes your outlook.” Ibid., 298. 61. See his official report: Bolkhovitinov, “V arkhivakh . . .” 329–340, compare with his essay: idem, “O vremeni i o sebe,” 73–74. 62. Bolkhovitinov, Vospominania, 50–51. See interview with Bolkhovitinov, June 2, 2001, Moscow. 63. LC. IREX. RC 21, F 109, letter by Theodore Von Laue, May 15, 1973, 1–2. “Poor man: his visit in the U.S. was so hectic, too much to be observed and digested! I wonder how he feels now, back in Leningrad, with all his presents and his memories.” 64. Interview with Leshchenko, June 25, 2013, Kyiv; English, Op. cit., 128. Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 18 The United States, Russia, and Ukraine End of an Era or Same Old Story?

Paul D’Anieri

In 2014, the relationship between the United States and Russia, and between Europe and Russia, hit a post-Cold War low. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine led to the imposition of economic sanctions by the United States and the Euro- pean Union and to countersanctions by Russia. There was widespread talk of a new Cold War. To the extent the analogy holds, it puts Ukraine in 2014 in the role that Poland, Berlin, and Czechoslovakia played in the late 1940s, as the region where Russian interference convinced the West that Russia had to be confronted and contained. We might wonder whether the comparison with the Cold War illuminates more than it obscures. When the history books are written decades from now, will the “post-Cold War era” from 1991 to 2014 be viewed as a distinct era between two distinct conflicts or as a lull in a longer running and deeply rooted conflict, akin perhaps to the alliance in World War II or the détente of the early 1970s? Will the collapse of the post-Cold War order be viewed as inevitable or avoidable? How did Ukraine, for so long an afterthought in international politics, come to be the fulcrum of such conflict? This chapter addresses that question in two ways. First, I present a broad explanation of how domestic and international forces have combined to make U.S. and Russian interests in Ukraine increasingly incompatible. Second, I provide a thumbnail chronology of the relationship from the Cold War to the present, describing, if not really explaining, how, by the 75th anniversary of the outbreak of World War II, serious observers could argue that general war might again be coming in 1

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Europe. Then, in the conclusion, I take a first cut at the larger interpretive and historiographical questions.

Democracy and Geopolitics in the Post-Cold War Era The end of the Cold War briefly seemed to augur an era in Europe in which ideology would disappear, as all states would adopt Western European-style liberal democracy, and in which international conflict would nearly disappear, with like-minded democracies resolving their differences peacefully through robust international organization. Hegel’s “end of history” and 262 Paul D’Anieri Kant’s “perpetual peace” were seemingly at hand, and both philosophers were invoked. 2 Not only did ideological and international conflict continue, but they became increasingly intertwined. Western states, and especially the United States, pursued democratization based in large part on the explicit argument that democracies do not fight one another and on the implicit belief that such states would naturally align with the West. Paradoxically, leaders in other states sometimes agreed that the spread of democracy was good for the United States; for that reason, they saw democratization as a geopolitical threat as much as a matter of domestic politics. This phenomenon eventually colored politics around the world, where governments in Russia, China, and Venezuela, among others, saw U.S. efforts to spread democracy as thinly veiled efforts to weaken or destroy those states that stood up to U.S. hegemony. Eventually, this factor moved from the edge to the center of U.S.-Russian-Ukrainian relations. The end of the Cold War signaled a narrowing of differences between the United States and Russia on both geopolitics and ideology. With Russia choosing to pursue democracy and the market, U.S. and Russian conceptions of the preferred order in Europe became much closer than they had ever been. Russia and the United States agreed strongly about Ukraine, as both sought to pressure Ukraine to surrender its nuclear weapons. Soon, however, differences between the United States and Russia emerged over issues such as Yugoslavia and over reform in Russia. But the assumption was still that the post-Cold War world was essentially different. Ukraine was not a salient issue between the two states. Russia’s signing of the “big treaty” with Ukraine in 1997 signaled its acceptance of Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity. And while the United States was frustrated with the state of reform under Leonid Kuchma, it did not blame Russia for this and was satisfied that Kuchma was determined to keep the country independent of Russia. Leonid Kuchma’s “multi-vector” foreign policy satisfied no one, but everyone could live with it. Similarly, his corruption and the absence of reform irritated Westerners focused on Ukraine but were ignored by nearly everyone else. Russia, while irritated by Ukraine’s participation in NATO’s “Partner- ship for Peace,” found Kuchma to be someone with whom Russia could work, especially in the field of skimming billions of dollars from the energy trade.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Ukraine’s corrupt and increasingly autocratic domestic politics threatened neither the West nor Russia. Even after the United States turned completely against Leonid Kuchma in 2002, Ukraine remained a minor irritant in U.S.- Russian relations. The Orange Revolution made Ukraine a central issue between the United States and Russia. The street protests that prevented Viktor Yanukovych from becoming president in 2004 affected Russia in several ways. First, the protest convinced Russia that the United States was now directly intervening in Ukrainian politics. Russian leaders tended to see not a popular revolution but a foreign-sponsored coup. The fact that people within the U.S. government The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 263 and NGO community actively trumpeted their role in Ukraine (which they almost certainly overestimated) simply bolstered Russia’s interpretation. Second, the Orange Revolution, along with similar revolutions in Georgia and Serbia, created immense fear in the Russian elite about what might happen there. The model appeared exportable and importable. 3 Third, if a pro- Western, liberal democracy could succeed in Ukraine, it would undermine the argument that such a model was unsuitable for Russia, which was a key justification for Putin’s “managed democracy.” Finally, the Orange Revolution changed the way the United States looked at Russia. Putin’s support for Yanukovych, even after election fraud had been made transparent, strengthened the belief in the United States that Putin was an autocrat by choice, not necessity. Many in the United States openly hoped that a “colored revolution” would occur in Russia. U.S. officials cheered for failed protest movements in Belarus in 2005 and then in Russia in 2012. Not only in Russia, but in other parts of the world as well, Western promotion of democracy became viewed as indistinguishable from an effort at achieving geopolitical ends. While the West saw democratization as a good in itself that had beneficial international byproducts, Russia (and others) saw democratization as tool to weaken particular states and to achieve geopolitical gains for the West. From 1991 through 2013, Ukraine’s regional divisions were both a source of weakness and a source of strength. They were a source of weakness in that they hampered the forging of the political consensus needed to make the reforms that would drive the country forward. They were a source of strength in that regional divisions made it very difficult for one political force—reformist or conservative, pro-Western or pro-Russia—to dominate the country, and therefore this pluralism was an important force limiting autocracy in Ukraine even as it came to dominate much of the rest of the region. How that roughly balanced pluralism came to unravel is a complex story, but both domestic and international factors played a role. Domestically, it is hard not to attribute considerable weight to the politics of Viktor Yanu- kovych, who went further than his predecessors, even Kuchma, in seeking to eliminate both formal institutional and informal checks on his power, thus increasing the incentive to depose him. Internationally, the worsening relationship between Russia and the United States made it harder—though not

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 impossible—to continue the straddling act that Ukraine had managed since 1991. Yanukovych became synonymous not only with autocracy but with Rus- sia. Similarly, democratization became synonymous with anti-Russianism. In contrast, Leonid Kuchma, for all his faults, managed to pursue his form of autocracy without ever decisively choosing Russia or the West over the other. In sum, three overlapping processes combined to make Ukraine a crucial wedge in Russian-Ukrainian relations by 2014. First was the overall souring of the U.S.-Russia relationship, which had a wide range of sources. Second was the increasingly close association between democracy and geopolitics—and in particular the use of “colored revolutions” to depose governments that were 264 Paul D’Anieri autocratic but also friendly to Russia. Third was the development of Ukrai- nian domestic politics—with an uneasy pluralism with which both East and West Ukraine could live and with which both Russia and the United States could live—devolved into winner-take-all politics that made it more likely that someone would try to overturn the government in Kyiv and that Russia or the United States would have an incentive to help them. With democracy in Ukraine incompatible with Russia’s interests, and Russian intervention unacceptable to the United States, conflict became much more likely. The United States supported Yanukovych’s ouster (though it played no real role in it), and Russia responded by intervening militarily and seizing Ukrainian territory. Russia’s use of military force meant that the conflict threatened the entire post-1991 order in Europe.

The Evolution of Ukraine in U.S.-Russian Relations Prior to Ukrainian independence in 1991, Ukraine was essentially irrelevant to U.S.-Russia relations. In contrast to the nominally independent satellites such as Poland or the Baltic States, which were widely seen in the West as “captives” of the Soviet Union, Western governments fully accepted that Ukraine was part of the Soviet Union. In the classic Western histories of Soviet foreign policy and of the Cold War, Ukraine shows up only as an object of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk and of the Polish Soviet War. 4 Ukraine emerged on the international agenda only in the final months of the Cold War, when it began to appear that Ukraine might secede from the Soviet Union. The defining event of the period was George Bush’s speech to Ukraine’s Verkhovna Rada in early August 1991, later derided by William Safire as the “Chicken Kiev” speech, in which Bush warned the Ukrainians against seceding from the Soviet Union. The U.S. position was based on two strategic considerations: first, Gorbachev was seen not only as a source of reform in the Soviet Union but of conciliation in the relationship with the West. He had essentially ended the Cold War by renouncing the Brezhnev doctrine, standing aside while Eastern Europe threw off communism, and acquiescing in German reunification. Yet he was under siege at home, pulled in different directions by between reformers, republican separatists, and conservatives. Bush and others sought to bolster his position. Second, the U.S. security com-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 munity was leery of Ukrainian independence because it feared fragmentation of the Soviet nuclear arsenal. Maintaining unified, reliable control over the nuclear arsenal trumped other goals. Moreover, much of the Soviet studies community in the United States accepted the basic Russian perspective that Ukraine was not really distinct from Russia. Within a month of Bush’s visit to Kyiv, an abortive putsch was launched against Gorbachev, Ukraine had declared independence, and Gorbachev had been eclipsed by Yeltsin. In December, Ukrainians voted overwhelmingly for independence (including a large majority in Eastern Ukraine and a narrow majority in Crimea). Yeltsin, Ukrainian President Leonid Kravchuk, and The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 265 Stanislau Shushkevich of Belarus agreed to replace the 1922 Union Treaty with a much looser “Commonwealth of Independent States” Yeltsin went along because formally dissolving the Soviet Union eliminated Gorbachev’s position, leaving Yeltsin in charge of an independent Russia. Once Gorbachev was dispatched, however, Yeltsin and the Russian government immediately sought to reverse the effects of dissolving the Soviet Union. While Russia insisted on the robustness of the CIS and on Russia’s leading role in it, Krav- chuk described the agreement as simply facilitating a “civilized divorce,” and focused on asserting Ukrainian sovereignty. 5 He declared Ukraine’s control over all military forces in Ukraine, including the nuclear weapons. Just as Yeltsin was driven in the process by his fight for control with Gor- bachev, Kravchuk was driven by his efforts to come out on top in Ukraine. As former head of ideology for the Communist Party of Ukraine and speaker of the Verkhovna Rada (Supreme Soviet), he was neither a natural Ukrainian nationalist nor anti-Russian. But he recognized that the tide was with the nationalist and independence movement, and he had to embrace that agenda or be sidelined. His main challenger in the presidential election that coincided with the December 1991 independence referendum was Vyacheslav Chornovil, a former dissident and Ukrainian nationalist. From 1991 through 1993, the United States was deeply involved with promoting reform in Russia, while regarding Ukraine extremely warily. While Ukraine was focused on gaining formal international recognition of its sovereignty and its independence from Russia, the United States was focused on its relationship with Russia and with Ukraine’s nuclear weapons. The United States initially withheld recognition of Ukrainian independence, insisting that Ukraine first agree to surrender its nuclear weapons. This policy—which saw Ukraine’s sovereignty as contingent—played into the Ukrainian government’s greatest insecurity and helped drive a dynamic in which the United States and Russia joined forces to coerce Ukraine to surrender its nuclear weapons, while Ukraine sought to condition surrendering the weapons on full recognition and security guarantees. Finally, in early 1994, a trilateral agreement was signed in which Ukraine agreed to surrender the weapons and the United States and Russia vaguely agreed to respect and guarantee Ukraine’s territorial integrity. While there was some further maneuvering on the actual disposal of the weapons, that agreement, by removing the central concern of

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the United States, paved the way for a much more constructive relationship between Ukraine and the United States. At the same time, the deterioration in U.S.-Russian relations gave the United States an increased interest in bolstering Ukraine’s autonomy. Domes- tically, the need for Yeltsin to use the army to disband the parliament in 1993 led to concerns over the durability of democracy of Russia, and the brutality of the Chechen war in 1994 reinforced those doubts. In foreign policy, Rus- sian support of Serbia recalled the dynamics of the Cold War, and the Aldrich Ames spy case bolstered the notion that Russia still saw the West as an enemy. In 1994, former U.S. National Security Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski published 266 Paul D’Anieri an influential article in Foreign Affairs that put Ukraine at the center of Rus- sian politics and U.S.-Russian relations. His judgment that “without Ukraine, Russia ceases to be an empire, but with Ukraine suborned and then subordi- nated, Russia automatically becomes an empire” was widely quoted. 6 The general Western response to Russia’s troubled domestic politics was to double down on Boris Yeltsin. His shelling of the parliament and implemen- tation of a hyperpresidential constitution were supported by Western leaders because they were aimed against forces that were clearly anti-Western, anti- market, and skeptical about liberal democracy. Thus, as Yeltsin became more erratic and more autocratic, he retained support from the West, especially in the 1996 presidential elections. Faced with choosing between a democrat and democracy—between supporting Yeltsin and supporting a fair political process that would likely have brought enemies of democracy to power—the West chose to support the democrat. In the United States, domestic politics intervened in a different way. With Russia’s economy in dire straits, foreign aid could potentially play a significant role in easing the transition to the market. However, rather than being a second Marshall Plan, the “Freedom Support Act” was limited in size and, in the process of Congressional approval, became focused on funding the purchase of U.S. grain and equipment, rather than on macroeconomic stabilization and reform in Russia. While U.S. aid was unlikely to turn the tide in Russia without better institutional development in Russia, the ultimate message many Russians took away by the end of the decade was that the policies recommended by the West had impoverished Russians and weakened Russia. As U.S.-Russia relations soured in the second half of the 1990s, U.S.- Ukrainian relations improved dramatically. With the 1994 trilateral agreement, the nuclear issue was removed, and while the election of Leonid Kuchma as president led to expectations of a dramatic turn toward Russia, the opposite happened. Kuchma sought a close relationship with the West, for both domestic and international reasons. Domestically, he recognized that building a power base in western Ukraine was smart politics and that a hugely improved performance there was essential for his reelection in 1999. Inter- nationally, he saw the need to push back against Russia. But this was not an anti-Russian policy. Kuchma’s “multi-vector foreign policy” was not aimed at turning Ukraine’s back on Russia but rather, by creating competition between

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the West and Russia, improving Ukraine’s bargaining position with both. This allowed Ukrainians to talk of their state as a “bridge” between Russia and the West. Extensive political cooperation with NATO did not rule out participation in the natural gas trade with Russia that allowed Kuchma’s supporters to skim off billions of dollars. In the Putin era, U.S.-Russian relations were a complex mix of arguments and issues on which the two sides needed each other. Putin’s consolidation of autocracy in Russia increased suspicion in the United States, while Rus- sia saw continued U.S. deployment of a ballistic missile defense system as a strategic threat and as evidence of bad faith on the part of the United States. The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 267 Ballistic missile defense had a powerful domestic lobby behind it that the end of the Cold War had not diminished, and the George W. Bush administration brought new enthusiasm to the project. But other international considerations kept the two sides looking for ways to maintain their relationship. The Sep- tember 11, 2001, terrorist attack on the United States provoked the United States into focusing almost entirely on terrorism and on wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Russia was engaged in its own battle against terrorism, a battle that Putin had deftly used to build his power, and now the two sides had a common cause. Russia assisted the United States in accessing the theatre of war in Afghanistan, and the United States became less critical of Russia’s treatment of Chechen separatists. Moreover, Russia could play a key role in helping the United States compel Iran to end its nuclear weapons program. Successive U.S. presidents therefore strived to minimize or compartmentalize the more conflictual aspects of the relationship. Thus George W. Bush “looked the man in the eye, . . . found him to very straightforward and trustworthy and . . . was able to get a sense of his soul” 7 ; Barack Obama later declared a “reset.” Events in Ukraine, however, gradually undermined the status quo. Begin- ning in 1999 and continuing through the Orange Revolution of 2004, the policies of Ukrainian President Leonid Kuchma made the U.S. and Russian positions on Ukraine harder to reconcile. As Kuchma’s government became more transparently corrupt and repressive—though not necessarily more pro-Russian—the United States distanced itself and then began to support a change in leadership. When it was revealed in 2002 that Ukraine had sought to sell Kolchuga early warning systems to Iraq prior to the U.S. invasion, the Bush administration, for whom Iraq was a touchstone issue, refused to have anything more to do with Kuchma, to the point of insisting that participants at a NATO meeting be seated according to the French renderings of their names so that Bush did not have to sit next to Kuchma. While Russia had reservations about both Leonid Kuchma and his chosen successor, Viktor Yanukovych, it saw Yankukovych’s opponent in the 2004 presidential election, Viktor Yushchenko as a threat. Yushchenko was overtly pro-Western and anti-Russian, was charismatic, and had excellent credentials as an economic reformer. He had the potential to pull Ukraine in a direction that Russia saw as unacceptable. Russian media actively promoted Yanu- kovych, and Vladimir Putin personally endorsed him. When Yanukovych’s

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 election was overturned in street protests that were supported from abroad and endorsed by Western governments, Russia reacted negatively, and the West triumphantly supported the new government. Russia did not act overtly to overturn the Orange Revolution. Rather, it continued to nurture the commercial relationships between various business and oligarchic groups in Russia and Ukraine and took steps to insulate itself from the potential that similar protests could erupt in Russia. As it turned out, Russia did not need to undermine the Orange Revolution. It foundered on a deep conflict between its two leaders and on Viktor Yushchenko’s increasingly erratic behavior. While Yushchenko was initially greeted as a hero in 268 Paul D’Anieri the West, his poor leadership and his conflict with Yuliya Tymoshenko cooled enthusiasm for him. Most damaging for Ukraine’s relationship with the West was Yushchenko’s decision in 2006 to ally with Yanukovych against Tymosh- enko, which completely undermined the image of Yushchenko as a fighter for Western values and clean government. The Orange Revolution failed so spectacularly that Viktor Yanukovych was able to win a free election in 2010, completing an amazing comeback after his humiliation in 2004. His victory turned the tables in what had become an overt competition for influence in Ukraine. Russia was in, and the United States and Western Europe were out. Again, domestic politics undermined the relationship with the West, as Yanukovych’s illegal moves to take control of the Verkhovna Rada and his sponsorship of a Constitutional Court decision to augment presidential power undercut the hope that, having been elected democratically, he would behave democratically in power. The European Union, which after 2010 became more prominent than the United States in dialogue with Ukraine, followed its traditional strategy of keeping dialogue going and continued to discuss with Ukraine the possibility of an Association Agreement. Much of the substance was agreed upon, but progress bogged down over the status of Yuliya Tymoshenko, whom Yanu- kovych had had arrested and imprisoned on abuse of power charges, making her ineligible to run for office in the future. The European Union was divided over how to handle Ukraine. Some sought to bolster Ukraine as a counterweight to Russia. Others sought to prioritize relations with Russia and were willing to tacitly accede to Russian dominance of Ukraine in order to maintain good relations with Russia. Even those deeply opposed to Yanukovych and to Russia’s support for him were divided over tactics: was it better to overlook Tymoshenko’s imprisonment, on the grounds that an EU Association Agreement would help bind Ukraine to the European Union in the long run, or would doing so only demonstrate to Yanukovych and others that they did not need to conform to EU norms? By 2014, the United States had largely washed its hands of Yanukovych and, like many Ukrainians, was looking forward to the possibility that he might lose an election in 2015, especially if Tymoshenko were allowed to run. Europe was more deeply engaged. Plans were made for signing the Association Agreement at the Vilnius Summit scheduled for December, with the question of Tymosh-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 enko’s fate left hanging until the very end. In late November, however, Yanu- kovych announced that he would not sign the agreement and instead would accept an aid package from Russia. Like Kuchma, Yanukovych had deftly used the relationship with the West to get better terms from Russia. From the Rus- sian perspective, a potential defeat had been turned into victory, especially since EU leaders were deeply piqued by Yanukovych’s turnabout. Yanukovych’s shunning of Europe provoked the protests that eventually led to his overthrow. Again, Russia and the United States had diametrically opposed interests and interpretations of events. U.S. politicians, including Assistant Secretary of State Victoria Nuland and Senator John McCain, The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 269 showed up on the Maidan in Kyiv and took part in the demonstrations. To Russia, having the U.S. government advocate the forcible overthrow of the Yanukovych government proved that democracy promotion was a sham designed simply to help the United States install pliant leaders. The United States saw Russia’s support for Yanukovych as evidence that of Russia’s imperial ambitions in Ukraine. Initially, however, the United States and Russia, along with the European Union, agreed that any steps to resolve the crisis should remain within Ukraine’s constitution; in early February, it looked as though an agreement had been reached that would call for early presidential elections. However, when the leaders of the Maidan rejected the agreement and violence ensued, Western leaders supported Yanukovych’s ouster. Russia accused the West of having acted in bad faith for not insisting that the earlier deal be honored. Russia at this point appears to have been motivated both by threat and opportunity. The threat was that, as in 2004, a pro-Western and anti-Russian government would come to power in Ukraine. The 2014 events may have seemed even more threatening because the protest leaders were not members of the established political opposition, and there was much less confidence that they were people with whom Russia could work. In contrast, both Yuliya Tymoshenko and Vitaly Klitschko, leaders of official opposition parties, were allied with oligarchs with deep ties to Russia. The strength on the Maidan and in the interim government of forces from nationalist parties further threatened Russia’s influence. On the opportunity side, the Ukrainian state had effectively dissolved, and its ability to counter any movement to seize territory was nearly nonexistent. Moreover, the protestors themselves had demonstrated how simple it was for lightly armed protestors to seize key governmental buildings and declare themselves in control of regional administrations. At the crucial point in Yanukovych’s downfall, the Ukrainian state had found that it did not have enough loyal forces to retake seized buildings, that there was limited appetite in the security forces for combat with protestors, and that any use of force led to a rapid increase in the size of the protests. Russia quickly took advantage of the situation. In Crimea, Russia had carefully nurtured networks of supporters as well the military forces of the Black Sea Fleet. Seizing key buildings, road junctions, and airports was easy, as was finding groups to proclaim the

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 autonomy of Crimea. The effect of Russia’s seizure of Crimea on Western opinion was dramatic. Some compared it to Germany’s 1938 annexation of the Sudetenland; others simply argued that the Cold War was on once again. Still, a minority followed the argument that Crimea really was Russian territory and accepted the claim that there was significant local desire to be annexed. Much less benefit of the doubt was forthcoming concerning the Russian invasion of East- ern Ukraine. The transparent lies put out regarding Russia’s role in eastern Ukraine appeared cartoonish, and those old enough to remember the Soviet Union recalled some of its clumsier propaganda. That propaganda was highly 270 Paul D’Anieri effective, as leading Western organizations continued to refer to “rebels” and “separatists” in Ukraine, rather than “Russian forces,” and the word “invasion” was carefully avoided. By mid-2014, the United States (along with the European Union) had enacted sanctions on Russia, Russia had enacted countersanctions, and Ukraine was fighting Russia in a war thinly disguised as an insurgency. Crimea was in Rus- sia’s hands, and, despite Ukrainian government rhetoric, there appeared no way for the annexation to be reversed. Ukraine had gone from being an issue in the U.S.-Russian relationship to being the issue in the U.S.-Russian relationship. Disagreement among the EU states, and between the European Union and the US, was dramatically nar- rowed when a civilian airliner was shot down, presumably by forces supported and supplied by Russia. The status of Ukraine increasingly became a zero-sum game in which any loss for Russia was viewed as a gain for the United States. That zero-sum game resulted in part from the broader deterioration in the U.S.-Russian relationship, but the causation went the other way around as well: the conflict over Ukraine helped make the U.S.-Russia relationship a zero-sum game. Gradually, the question of Ukraine’s domestic political orientation had become inseparable from the question of whether Ukraine would be aligned with the West or with Russia. As it became more difficult to reach a centrist accommodation in Ukraine’s domestic politics, it became correspondingly difficult for Ukraine to maintain a position between Russia and the West that everyone had a stake in maintaining.

A New Cold War, with Ukraine at the Center? How do we put these events in historical context? The events of 2014 prompted a great deal of loose comparison with the Cold War, but there has as of yet been little serious analysis of how closely that analogy fits, let alone what we might learn from it. A related question, to the extent that the emerging era will resemble the Cold War, is do we see it as a new Cold War or as a continuation of the original? Do we see the era from 1991 to 2014 as a distinct era separating these two eras of conflict or as a period of relative calm in one long, continuous conflict that dates to 1946, to 1917, or even earlier?

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 While there important echoes of the early Cold War in the events of 2014, to see only continuity creates the risk of seeing the current conflict as inevitable, which both underestimates the genuine changes that took place over the past 20 years and absolves policy makers in all the concerned countries of responsibility for choices that could have been made differently. If we are entering a new Cold War, the events in Ukraine in 2014 will read in the history books much the way the elections in Poland and Czechoslova- kia or the civil wars in Greece and Turkey were regarded in the late 1940s. Then as now, democracy was seen as bringing anti-Soviet or anti-Russian forces to power and thus was a security threat for Moscow. Then as now, The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 271 democracy in Russia’s neighbors was seen as a threat to autocracy at home. Then as now, Soviet/Russian intervention in fragile democracies (then in Tur- key and Greece, today in Ukraine and Georgia) was seen in the West as dem- onstrating aggressive intent. Then as now, many in the West criticized Russia’s expansionism and autocracy, while Russia complained that the West refused to accept Russia’s legitimate security interests and that Russian security was threatened by the installation anti-Russian governments nearby. Indeed, this wide gulf in perceptions and the intensity of the propaganda war are among the most striking similarities. The evolution of Cold War historiography may be echoed in attempts to explain recent developments in the region. The vast majority of Western writing on the events of 2014 lays responsibility squarely at the feet of Russia. In this view, Russia’s support for Yanukovych, Russia’s seizure of Crimea, and Russia’s military intervention in eastern Ukraine demonstrate malign Russian motives. These motives include undoing the events of 1991; subjecting its neighbors; and building the basis of autocracy in Russia, both by eliminating potential counterexamples and by fanning militant nationalism. This view largely parallels the view of the Cold War that dominated for many years and came to be known as the traditional interpretation. Already, however, we see various forms of a revisionist position that casts Russia in a defensive pose and the United States as some combination of aggressive and clueless. This perspective been advanced by the leftist Stephen Cohen and by the Realist John Mearsheimer. 8 Both argue that the United States and the European Union have repeatedly blundered in the post-Cold War era by taking actions that Russia was bound to see as threatening to its interests. At the top of the list are the expansion of NATO to Russia’s borders and the support for anti-Russian governments in Kyiv. Both tend to see the ejection of Yanukovych as a “coup” rather than considering the notion that, through its actions, Yanukovych’s government had forfeited its right to govern. Both are more willing than other accounts to label some of the participants in the protest movement and interim government in Ukraine as fascists. Both focus on the United States and Russia, and neither has much to say about the rights or sovereignty of Ukraine. In Mearsheimer’s case, this is because as a realist, he sees the international system as driven by the interests of the great powers; in Cohen’s case, the justification for deemphasizing the weakest state

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 in the relationship is unclear. Ultimately, both see Russia’s invasion in Crimea and Eastern Ukraine as a defensive act by a threatened country. While (to the best of my knowledge) it has not been clearly articulated yet, we can imagine a “post-revisionist” interpretation and can sketch what it might look like. One aspect of the interpretation would be geopolitical and would focus on the endurance of basic questions about who would control central Europe. Given the open geography of the region, which had allowed Russia to be invaded repeatedly (and to invade others as well), a security dilemma was perhaps inherent. The region’s history of shifting state borders and intermittent warfare supports such an argument. 272 Paul D’Anieri As was the case with postrevisionist accounts of the Cold War, a second dimension of a postrevisionist account of the post-Cold War (and “post-post- cold war”) eras would be the constraints created by domestic politics. In the 1990s, when Russia was most in need of Western aid, the United States instead sought a “peace dividend.” Aid to Russia was proportionally tiny compared to the Marshall Plan, and much of it had to be spent back in the United States, buying agricultural products and equipment. More broadly, after the end of the Cold War, the constituency in the United States pushing for good relations with Russia paradoxically disappeared. Arms control receded from the agenda, and the arms control lobby shifted its attention to nonproliferation. Initially, this helped U.S.-Russian relations, as the two sides collaborated on Ukrainian denuclearization and on the securing of Russia’s stockpiles. But as Russia reduced cooperation in securing nuclear materials domestically and continued to assist Iran’s nuclear program, the arms control lobby became critics of Russia. Moreover, many people who in the 1970s and 1980s might have advocated arms control and accommodation with the Soviet Union, in the 1990s and 2000s advocated democracy promotion, and Putin’s Russia was both a target and an obstacle. Similarly, economic constituents for good U.S.-Russia relations declined after 1998. In the early and mid-1990s, U.S. financial institutions were active in Russia and were a powerful force with a stake in good relations. After Russia’s financial collapse in 1998, however, most of them pulled back, and another constituency with an interest in good relations was gone. That left the global energy firms, who were partners with Russian firms in exploiting reserves in Russia and competitors with the same firms for control of resources in Caspian basin. After Putin’s rise to power, Western firms were squeezed out of the Russian market, and another constituency was lost. By 2002 or so, there were few if any powerful interests in the United States with an important stake in good relations with Russia. As was the case in the Cold War, U.S. politicians were vulnerable to the challenge of being “soft” on Russia; but in contrast to the Cold War, there was no elite or popular constituency counseling accommodation and little potential reward for reaching a major agreement. One reason why the United States and the European Union diverged on Russia policy was that many EU firms and member countries continued to have strong economic incentives for maintaining a good

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 relationship with Russia. Russia’s domestic politics were equally important, and here the transformation was as much as in electoral politics as in commercial interests. In the early post-Soviet years, closer relations with the West were widely accepted as both economically and symbolically beneficial—they signaled Russia’s transformation into a prosperous democracy. Early on, however, Russian politicians on both the left and right found room to build popularity by running against the changes the country was undergoing. Eventually, Vladimir Putin managed to coopt both the left and right with a mix of state control of the economy, prosecution of war in Chechnya, and asserting Russian resistance to the West. The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 273 Domestic politics appear to have played directly into the decisions to annex Crimea and intervene in Eastern Ukraine. Especially after retaking the presidency in 2012, Putin’s popularity had slid, and Moscow had seen large-scale street protests that echoed those of the Orange Revolution. The ejection of Yanukovych by street protestors created an uncomfortable precedent; had the post-Yanukovych transition gone smoothly, that precedent would have been even scarier for him. At the same time, anti-Western and especially anti-U.S. sentiment was high in Russia, and policies that stood up to the United States, or hindered its plans, were guaranteed to win approval from average Russians. The annexation of Crimea was immensely popular. To summarize, a postrevisionist perspective would likely find that the renewal of hostility between Russia and the United States was somewhat inevitable because international and geopolitical factors naturally put Rus- sia in competition with the United States and Western Europe and because domestic factors in both Russia and the United States created greater political benefits for confrontation than for accommodation. It may have been inevitable as well that the touchstone for conflict would be Ukraine. If Poland and Berlin were the geographic focal points of postwar Europe—and conflict over Poland was evident long before the war ended—Ukraine was widely perceived from the 1990s as the focal point in the post-Cold War world. Russia did not contest the loss of Poland, Czechoslovakia, or Hungary. The United States and Europe did not seriously contest the reemergence of Russian hegemony in Central Asia. The most likely touch points were the Baltic States and Ukraine.

Prospects for the Future It is difficult in early 2015 to prognosticate how the conflict in Ukraine will end, or even whether it will end anytime soon. Nonetheless, certain outcomes are already apparent and will be difficult to reverse. In Ukraine, the domestic politics of the country have been completely altered. One crucial change is that without Crimea, a large pro-Eastern or pro-Russian voting bloc is gone. That may be sufficient to make it much harder for an Eastern-based or pro- Russian candidate or party to triumph in national elections. Ironically, if Rus- sia can successfully detach a significant part of the Donbas, what remains of

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Ukraine will be even more anti-Russian and pro-Western. A second change is that the fragility of the state has been demonstrated for all to see, and the tactics that brought down Yanukovych can be applied by others. Thus, a crucial question facing Ukraine is whether a real state—which can legitimately use force and has something approaching a monopoly on force—can emerge. Internationally, the most important change is one of perceptions. People in Russia and throughout the West now agree that Russia and the West have goals that are fundamentally in tension, whether or not we use the term “cold war”. At the beginning of 2014, the salience of Russia was low in the West, and there was disagreement about policy. By the middle of 2014, with few 274 Paul D’Anieri exceptions, Russia and Putin were seen as malign and aggressive forces. Sim- ilarly, in Russia, political forces that in early 2014 were considered on the fringe, such as militant nationalists and Cossack groups, were by the summer- time well within the mainstream. A full-blown propaganda war was underway. NATO was once again central to Western security discussions. Despite the intensity of the conflict, its scope is considerably narrower than that of the Cold War. The Soviet Union’s communist ideology held that communism would eventually take over the world, and while the leadership had backed off from the Leninist notion that war with the West was inevitable, conflict was seen as inevitable and global in scope. Similarly, Western leaders regarded the entire globe as the “front” in the Cold War, even if Europe was the primary arena. Today, while the United States continues to aspire to a global role, Russia’s ambitions have contracted considerably to focus on the territory of the former Soviet Union. Russia sees itself, along with others, combating any American presumption to global hegemony but does not con- template replacing the United States as a global power. A second key dimension of the Cold War that has yet, fortunately, to reassert itself is the threat of nuclear annihilation. In neither Russia nor the West is there any sense that the conflict over Ukraine is an existential one that might merit resorting to nuclear weapons. Nor is there yet renewed fear that a series of accidents or misunderstandings might spiral out of control and cause an inadvertent nuclear war, a fear that was omnipresent until the very end of the Cold War. The West has no fear that the “loss” of Ukraine will cause a tipping that will somehow lead to all of Europe ending up in Russia’s camp. For Russia, the existential threat is more real, as the West clearly hopes that Ukraine can set an example that will help undermine “Putinism.” Russia today, like Russia prior to World War II, is a primarily a continental power, playing an enormous role in its immediate neighborhood but relatively little beyond that. That, too, helps explain why Ukraine has become the battleground between Russia and the West. In that respect, Russia’s role and policy today have echoes of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as much as the Cold War. Russia’s demand for a “sphere of influence,” its alliances with predominantly orthodox countries such as Serbia, and its focus on Russian nationalism rather than Socialist internationalism all have more in common with the pre-World War I era than with the post-World War II era. Rus-

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 sia’s expansion into Ukraine—from the seventeenth century through World War I and II—was at the heart of Russian imperialism during that period. If Ukraine’s central role in Russia’s imperial history is underemphasized in the history books, it is in part because the territory was often recognized not as Ukraine but as Poland, Lithuania, the Crimean Tatar Khanate, or something else. It is a term from this period, Novorossiya , that was dredged up to legiti- mize Russia’s territorial pretensions in Ukraine. Thus, the relationship that we see emerging between Russia, Europe, and the United States is likely to echo several previous eras and to have novel aspects as well. The impetus to expand into Ukraine is pre-Soviet as well as Soviet; The United States, Russia, and Ukraine 275 the connection between liberalization and geopolitics has echoes in the nineteenth century but is largely a post-Cold War phenomenon. And while the deploying of propaganda on a massive scale is not new, there is something postmodern about how it works given all of today’s ways of disseminating— and concocting—“information.” For all that, it might appear that the oldest rule of international politics, laid down by Thucydides, still holds: “The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.”

Notes 1. Anne Applebaum, “War in Europe Is Not a Hysterical Idea,” WashingtonPost. com, August 29, 2014, http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/anne-applebaum- war-in-europe-is-not-a-hysterical-idea/2014/08/29/815f29d4–2f93–11e4-bb9b- 997ae96fad33_story.html 2. Francis Fukuyama, “The End of History?” The National Interest (Summer 1989); Stephen Van Evera, “Primed for Peace: Europe after the Cold War,” International Security Volume 15, 3 (Winter 1990/91): 7–57. 3. In the West, a large literature on the transnational promotion of democracy in general, and democratic revolutions in particular, emerged. For a summary, see Paul D’Anieri, “Autocratic Diffusion and the Pluralization of Democracy,” in Power in a Complex Global System, eds. Lewis W. Pauly and Bruce W. Jentleson (London: Routledge, 2014). 4. On Soviet foreign policy, see Adam B. Ulam, Expansion and Coexistence: Soviet Foreign Policy 1917–73, 2nd ed. (New York: Praeger, 1974); and R. Craig Nation, Black Earth Red Star: A History of Soviet Security Policy 1917–1991 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1992). On the Cold War, see John Lewis Gaddis, The Cold War: A New History (New York: Penguin, 2005). 5. This process is analyzed in Paul D’Anieri, Economic Interdependence in Ukrainian- Russian Relations (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1999). 6. Zbigniew Brzezinski, “The Premature Partnership,” Foreign Affairs 73, 1 (March– April 1994): 80. 7. Bush was quoted in “Bush and Putin: Best of Friends,” BBC News, June 16, 2001. 8. John J. Mearsheimer, “Why the Ukraine Crisis Is the West’s Fault: The Liberal Delusions that Provoked Putin,” Foreign Affairs (September/October 2014), http://www.foreignaffairs.com/articles/141769/john-j-mearsheimer/why-the- ukraine-crisis-is-the-wests-fault Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 This page intentionally left blank Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Contributors

Ada Ackerman is an art historian and researcher at CNRS (French National Center for Scientific Research) in the laboratory THALIM. She received in 2010 her PhD from Université Paris-X and Université de Montréal. She has published Eisenstein et Daumier. Des affinités électives (Armand Colin, 2013). She teaches art history at Université Paris-X and École Normale Supérieure de Lyon and works for the Centre Pompidou-Metz and the Museum of Jewish Art and History in Paris. Monica Cognolato has recently received her PhD from the University of Padova (Italy). She gave lectures at Ca’Foscari University in Venice and participated in workshops and conferences. She is interested in Russian Church history, Russian Diaspora, and Ecclesiology. Paul D’Anieri is Professor of Political Science and Provost and Executive Vice Chancellor at the University of California-Riverside. His research focuses on politics and foreign policy in the post-Soviet states with an emphasis on Ukraine. His current work examines the tactics used to unbal- ance the playing field in new democracies. His most recent book is T he Contest for Social Mobilization in Ukraine (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2009). He is also the author of a textbook, International Politics: Power and Purpose in Global Affairs , currently in its third edition. His earlier books include Economic Interdependence in Ukrainian Russian-Relations (SUNY, 1999) and Understanding Ukrainian Politics: Power, Politics, and Institutional Design (M.E. Sharpe, 2007).

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Lee A. Farrow is Professor of History and Director for the Center of Excel- lence in Learning and Teaching at Auburn University at Montgomery. She received her PhD at Tulane University, and her first book on Imperial Russian property law was published by University of Delaware Press. Her second book, Alexis in America: The Grand Tour of a Russian Grand Duke, 1871–1872 , has just been published by Louisiana State University Press. Lyubov Ginzburg, a native of St. Petersburg, received her master’s degree from St. Petersburg State University and a PhD from the University of Kansas. With research interests in the history of Russian-American 278 Contributors relations, Dr. Ginzburg has dedicated her academic career to exploring and analyzing the broad venues of public diplomacy, cultural influences, and social interactions between these two nations. Presently, she is revis- ing for publication her dissertation, entitled Confronting the Cold War Legacy: The Forgotten History of the American Colony in St. Petersburg (A Case Study of Reconciliation) . The importance of complementing official political discourse with social and cultural history was acknowledged by the U.S. State Department when Dr. Ginzburg was summoned to address research needs for the U.S. Consulate General in St. Petersburg, Russia, as an Embassy Policy Specialist Program Fellow in 2010. For two decades, Dr. Ginzburg has taught graduate and undergraduate level courses and seminars at universities in Russia, the United States, and Europe in Sociology, Communication Studies, American Studies, Slavic Languages and Litera- tures, and Western Civilization. Ivan Kurilla is a Professor of History and Department Head at the Depart- ment of International Relations and Area Studies, Volgograd State Uni- versity, Russia. He received his Specialist Diploma (MA equivalent) from Volgograd State in 1991 and his Kandidat nauk (PhD equivalent) in 1996 and Doktor nauk (Full Professor or Habilitation equivalent) in 2005, both from the Institute of World History, Russian Academy of Sciences (Mos- cow, Russia). Kurilla is the author of three monographs, including Partners across Ocean: America and Russia in the 1830–1850s (Volgograd UP, 2005, in Russian), and an editor and contributor for several collective monographs and collections of articles, including being the editor of the annual collection of articles Americana ; in 2010, he translated into Russian a classic monograph by Perry Anderson entitled Lineages of the Absolutist State . Kurilla’s articles were published in the leading Russian historical journals, as well as in Journal of American History , Demokratizatsiya , Journal of Cold War Studies , and Problems of Post-Communism. Erich Lippman (PhD, University of Minnesota) is an Assistant Professor of History at Saint Mary’s University of Minnesota, where he teaches courses in global history; modern European history; and specialty courses on the Modern Middle East, the Ottoman Empire, Tsarist Russia, and the Soviet Union. His area of expertise is Russian intellectual history, specializing in

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 the interactions between religion and modernity in revolutionary Russia. He is currently working toward on a monograph entitled, “God Building in Context: Maxim Gorky and Russian Religious Thought.” Kathleen S. Macfie is Associate Professor of Russian at the University of North Carolina at Greensboro. She received her PhD from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and publishes on early Soviet era poetry and ties between African-Americans and the emerging Soviet Union. She was a J. William Fulbright Senior Scholar at Kazan Federal University in Kazan, Russia, in 1999. Contributors 279 Matthew Lee Miller is Associate Professor of History at the University of Northwestern—St. Paul in Minnesota. He has studied at Miami University (BA), Wheaton College (MA), Moscow State University, and the Uni- versity of Minnesota (PhD). He is the author of The American YMCA and Russian Culture: The Preservation and Expansion of Orthodox Christianity, 1900–1940. Vladimir V. Noskov is the Head of the World History Division at the St. Petersburg Institute of History of the Russian Academy of Sciences. He graduated from Leningrad University and received his doctoral degree from St. Petersburg University. He published a book on the history of U.S. foreign politics and took part in preparing the Dictionary of American His- tory . He was Russian codirector of the joint Russian-American educational project American Studies: New Curricula and New Pedagogies for English and Social Sciences , 2002–2005. Alexander Yu. Petrov is Senior Research Fellow of the Institute of World His- tory of the Russian Academy of Sciences and Head of the Research Group on the History of Russian America and Russian-American Relations at the Russian Academy of Sciences. He is the author of many publications on Russian America and has been awarded a J. William Fulbright Award and fellowships at the Woodrow Wilson Center for International Studies. Norman E. Saul is Professor Emeritus of History and of Russian and East European and Eurasian Studies at the University of Kansas, where he taught for forty years, serving for nine years as Chairman of the Depart- ment of History, until retiring in 2009. He has published several books on Russian international relations. Susan Smith-Peter (University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, PhD) is Associate Professor and Chair of the History Department at the College of Staten Island (CUNY). She has published articles on topics related to civil society and regional identity in such journals as The Russian Review , Kritika: Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History and Russian History/ Histoire Russe. Her next project deals with the history of creoles in Russian America, which was sold to the United States as Alaska in 1867. Creoles were the offspring of Russian men and Native women.

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Vladimir V. Sogrin, Professor of History and Chair, Center of North Ameri- can Studies, Institute of General History, Russian Academy of Sciences. He is also the Chair, Russian Association for the USA History Studies; Editor-in-Chief, American Yearbook ; and Editor-in-Chief, Journal Modern and Contemporary History . He is also the author of 15 monographs and more than 200 articles on different problems of American History. Pavel Tribunskiy graduated from Ryazan State Pedagogical University (1997) and got his PhD from Russian State University for the Humanities (2002). He is a coauthor of Pavel Miliukov’s biography (2001). His primary scholar 280 Contributors interests lay in Russian History of the Late Empire, especially in a history of historical science, Russian scholars abroad, and Russian Studies in the United States and the U.K. William Benton Whisenhunt is Professor of History at College of DuPage. He received his PhD from the University of Illinois at Chicago in 1997. He has published four books on Russian history including his coauthored work (with Marina Swoboda), A Russian Paints America: The Travels of Pavel P. Svin’in, 1811–1813 (2008), and his edited edition of Marguerite Harrison’s Marooned in Moscow: The Story of an American Woman Imprisoned in Soviet Russia (2011). He was a J. William Fulbright Senior Scholar at Ryazan State University in Russia in 2006. Sergei I. Zhuk (PhD from Johns Hopkins University, 2002, and the Institute of World History, USSR, 1987) is an Associate Professor of Russian and East European History at Ball State University in Muncie, Indiana. His research interests are knowledge production, cultural consumption, religion, popular culture, and identity in a history of imperial Russia and the Soviet Union. His publications include Rock and Roll in the Rocket City: The West, Identity, and Ideology in Soviet Dniepropetrovsk, 1960–1985 (2010) and Russia’s Lost Reformation: Peasants, Millennialism and Radical Sects in Southern Russia and Ukraine, 1830–1917 (2004). He is currently working on a book about the social and cultural history of American studies in the USSR during the Cold War. Victoria I. Zhuravleva is a Professor of American History and International Relations, the Director of the Program on American Studies, and the Vice- Director of the Department of International Relations and Area Studies at the Russian State University for the Humanities, Moscow, Russia. Her field of research interests is American history, with a specialization in U.S. foreign policy and Russian-American relations. She is author of the book Understanding Russia in the United States: Images and Myths. 1881–1914 (Moscow, 2012) and chapters in the volume of source documents Rossiia i SShA: Diplomaticheskie Otnosheniia. 1900–1917 (Moscow, 1999) (Russia and the US: Diplomatic Relations); coauthor (with Igor’ Dolutskii) of the textbook Vsemirnaia Istoria XX veka (Moscow 2002) (World History of the 20th Century); and editor of three volumes on Russian-American rela- Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 tions and American history: Russian-American Relations in Past and Present: Images, Myths, and Reality (Moscow, 2007); Russia and the United States: Mutual Representations in Textbooks (Kennan Institute, Volgograd, 2009, coeditored with Ivan I. Kurilla); Abraham Lincoln: Lessons of History and the Contemporary World (Moscow, 2010). She is an alumni of the Fulbright Program and Woodrow Wilson Center Program. Index

“Academic detente” 240, 252 American isolationism 219–23 Academy of Sciences, Soviet 232, 234 American Methodist Episcopal Church Ackerman, Ada 2, 4, 193 (Petrograd) 127–8, 132 Adams, John Quincy 25 American Red Cross 128, 135, 139n18, Addams, Jane 112 166 Afghanistan 267 American Relief Administration 162, 173 African-Americans 4, 59–60, 110n19, American Russian chambers of commerce 149, 178–9, 183–8; in journalism 128 179–82 American Salvation Army 135 African Blood Brotherhood 182–8 American South 65–6 Alabama 52 American surgeons in Crimean War Alaska 2, 8–11, 14–17; boundaries 52–61 16–17; and Perkins claim 79; American Theater Ballet 236 population 14; purchase of 3, 74, Amerikanskii Ezhegodnik 94n1 79–80, 84–5 Amsterdam News, The 180–1, 189, 190n2 Aleutian Islands 7 Amtorg (American Trading Corporation) Alexander, John T. 256n11 208 Alexander I 9, 17, 23–5, 70 Anderson, Harvey W. 131 Alexander II 41, 67–70, 77, 85, 93, 148 Anderson, Paul B. 162, 168–70 Alexander III 47 Andreeva, Maria 113; see also Gorky, Alexandra Fyodorovna, Empress 133 Maxim Alexandrovskoe 37–8 Anglo-Russian Chamber of Commerce Alexis, Grand Duke 83–4 146 Allied intervention in Russia 167 anti-British sentiments in U.S. 52–3 All-Russian Congress of Soviets 164 Anti-Slavery Bugle 68 Al’pert, Max 198, 207 apparatchiks 244 American Civil War 3, 52, 61, 65, 71–2, Appleton, John 38, 77 78, 178 Appleton, Nathaniel, Jr. 41

Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 American colony (in St. Petersburg/ Arbatov, Georgi 241–3, 255 Petrograd) 3, 128–35 Aristotle 21 American Constitution 30–2 Articles of Confederation 21 American Council of Teachers of Asia 217 Russian (ACTR) 235 Associated Negro Press 183–5 American Federation of Labor (AFL) Association for Slavic, East European, 213–14 and Eurasian Studies (ASEEES) American films in Russia 252–3 174n1 American Fur Company 10–12 Association Men 164 American Historical Review 249 Astor, John Jacob 10–13, 18n11 American Hospital in Petrograd 3, 127, Astoria, Oregon 9, 13 129; Russian soldier letters, 131–5 Atlantic Charter 222–3 282 Index Atlantic Monthly 68, 169 Brussels 54 Austria-Hungary 172 Brzezinski, Zbigniew 265–6 Austrian State Treaty (1955) 230 Bukharin, Nikolai 164 Bulgakov, Sergei 170 Baden, Max 166 Bullitt, William 216 Baker, Henry D. 128, 132 Burin, Sergei 250 Bakhmetev, George 149, 153–5 Bush, George 264 Bakhtin, Mikhail 121 Bush, George H. W. 267 Baku 202 Butler, Benjamin 79 Baltic Sea 78 Baltic States 264, 273 Caldwell, Erskine 195 Baltimore 36 California 9–10, 52–3, 62n8, 186 Banks, Nathaniel 79–80, 85 Cameron, Simon 39 Baranov, Alexander 10–15 Canton 8, 10–11 Barishnikov, Mikhail 234 Capital News Service 184 Belarus 263 Capote, Truman 230 Beliavskaia, Irina 250 Caspian basin 272 Benedict XV 180 Cassini, Arturo 99 Berdiaev, Nikolai 111n34, 170 Catacazy, Constantine 80–2; conflict Bering, Vitus 6–7 with Hamilton Fish 82–4 Bering-Chirikov expedition 6–7 Catherine the Great 92–3, 101, 105 Berlin 273 Caucasus 235 Betsy 10 Central America 53 “Big Three” 223–4 Central Asia 235 Black, Cyril 4 Chaadaev, Petr 105 Black Sea 51–2; fleet 271 Chamberlain, Neville 218 Blacks see African-Americans Chechen war 265, 267 Blaine, James 84 Chemboksan Mountain Range 144 Blakely, Allison 189 Chemulpo (Korea) 102 Bobrinskii, Vladimir 46 Chernyshevsky, Nikolai 59 Bogoyavlensky, N. V. 155 Chevkin, Konstantin V. 38–9 Bolkhovitinov, Nikolai, N. vii, 4, 240–2, Chicago 88–94 248–52, 255, 256n5 Chicago Daily Tribune 93 Bolshevik Revolution 129, 231 Chicago Defender 190n2 Bolsheviks 112, 162–3, 172–3, 216 Child, Francis 139n6 Bolshevism 181–2 Child, Richard Washburn 143 Bolshoi Ballet 234, 236 China 8–10, 12–13, 16, 18n11, 100, Bolshoi Theatre 198–9 144, 217, 224 262; Japanese aggression Borodin, Nikolai Andreevich 128, against 219–20 139n5, 154 cholera 56–8 Boston 12, 17, 20, 24–6, 75, 93 Chornovil, Vyacheslav 265 “Bostonians” 9 Christian Advocate 128–32, 136 Boulom, Karyin xii Christian Examiner 68 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Bourke-White, Margaret 4, 193–208; Christian Recorder 69–71 cooperation with Soviet photographers Chrysler Building 203 202–8 ; first visit 198 Churchill, Winston 215; as war time Bowles, Chester 231 leader 222–5; 228n28 Brest-Litovsk, Treat of 264 cigar boats 40–1 Breton Woods conference 225–6 Cioni, Paula 115 Brezhnev era 4, 240, 244, 252; doctrine City Hospital of the American Colony 264 127–30; see also American Hospital Briggs, Cyril 178–90 “City of the Yellow Devil” (Gorky) 116–17 Brighton, England 38 City University of New York 244 Brothers Karamazov, The (Dostoevsky) C ivil War see American Civil War; 119, 122 Russian Civil War Index 283 Clark, William 9 Crimean War 3, 37, 39, 41, 51, 55–8, Clatsop, Fort 9 60–1, 74; French deserters in 60 Clay, Cassius M. 39–40, 44, 78 Crosley, Pauline 136, 141n36, 39 Clay, Henry 35n52, 65–6 Crosley, Walter (US naval attaché) 136 Cliburn, Van 238n19 Cross, Anthony 20, 22 Cognolato, Monica 1–3, 99 Crusader, The 4, 178–9, 182–4, 187–9 Cohen, Stephen 271 Crusader News Service 183–4, 187 Cold War 1, 4–5, 230–1, 234, 237, 251, Cuban missile crisis 234 261–2, 272–3; new Cold War 270–2; Curtin, Andrew 83–4 see also Post-Cold War era Czechoslovakia 261, 270, 273 collectivization 213 Collier’s 147 Dabovich, Father 107, 110n19 Cologne 55 Dallin, Alexander 229 Colt, Samuel 52 D’Anieri, Paul 2, 5, 261 Colton, Ethan T. 164–5, 169–70, 172 Danilevsky Church Choir 229 Columbia River 11–12, 17 Darnitsa 166, 168 Columbia University 90–1, 94, 114, 172, Dartmouth College 148, 174 235, 245–6; Russian studies in 146–7, Dashkov, Andrei 11–13, 25–6 229, 231 Davies, Joseph 216–7, 227n16 Comintern (Communist International) Davis, Jerome 162, 170–4 181, 184, 191n14, 191n31 Day, George (YMCA) 162–9 Commander Islands 3 Debakov, Dmitri 198 commercial relations 16–17, 146 Defender, The 178 Commissariat of Enlightenment, Soviet de Gaulle, Charles 224 172 Del’vig, A. I. 47 Committee on Foreign Relation, U.S. Dementiev, Igor 250 Senate 77 Department of State, U.S. 15, 78, 84, Commonwealth of Independent States 216–17, 230, 232, 245 (CIS) 265 Deutsch, Leo 150–1 Communist, The 185 Diana 10 Communist Co-operative Commonwealth Dole, Nathan Haskell 88–9, 94 182 Doletsky, Yakov 197 Communist Party, American 183, 185–8; Donbas 273 African-Americans in 184–7; Russian Don Cossacks 22 186 Dostoevsky, Fedor 93, 112, 115–16, Communist Party of Ukraine 265 120–3 Como Pioneer Company 53 Draper, Dr. Isaac, Jr. 54–60 Confession (Gorky) 115, 117, 122 Draper, Theodore 181, 183, 188; and Congress, U.S. 212, 233–4 Cyril Briggs 186–7 Constitutional Convention of 1787 Dresden 55 27, 29 Duane, William 26 Constitutional Court (Ukraine) 268 DuBois, W.E.B. 178, 189, 190n1 Cook, James 8 Dukes, Paul 169 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Coolidge, Archibald 146 Dulles, John Foster 233 Cooper Union 91 D’Wolf, John 9 Coppola, Francis 252 Dzerzhinsky, Felix 161 Cornell University 91 Corse, Frederick M. 130, 136, 140n21, Eastern Europe 217–18 142n41 Eastern Front 151 Council of Ministers, Russian 42 Eastern Question 51, 82 Crane, Charles R. 3, 88, 94, 146–7, 229, Eastern Ukraine 269–71 231 East European Department 217 Crimea 2, 5, 52, 54, 57–8; Russian East India Company 8 takeover 269–70, 274 Eastwick, Andrew M. 36–7 Crimean Tatar Khanate 274 Eastwick & Harrison 36 284 Index Ebbets, John 11–12 Ford Foundation 232 Eclipse 10 Foreign Affairs 266 Eddy, Sherwood 162, 170–2; “American Foreign Office, British 169 Seminar” 171; publications 171 Fort Peck Dam 206 Eisenhower, Dwight D. 230–3 Fort Ross 13–14 Eisenhower Presidential Library 4, 237n1 Fortune 193, 206 Eisenstein, Sergei 203–6 Fosdick, Harry Emerson 170, 172 Elena Pavlovna, Grand Duchess 58–9 Founding Fathers 21 Ellington, Duke 234 Fourierism 32 Emancipation Decree, Russian 66–7 Fox, Gustavus V. 41 Empire Club 35n52 France 9, 21, 23, 212, 215–18; in Crimean Engerman, David 72n1 war 51; in World War II 220–2 England 38, 47, 146; see also Great Francis, David 135, 153 Britain Franco, Francisco 219 English, Robert 240 Frank, Joseph 117–18, 124–5 Entente 146, 154 Freedom’s Journal 178, 190n2 Enterprise 10–13 “Freedom Support Act” 266 Ermilov, Vladimir 116 Freeman, Joe 207 Ethiopia 218–19 French Revolution 106 European Union (EU) 270–4; Association Friends of the Soviet Union 208 Agreement with Ukraine 268–9 Fuertes, Estavzan A. 91 Evarts, William 77, 84 Fulbright, William J. 230 Evstaf’ev, Aleksei 2, 20; on the American Fulbright Scholarship Program 229 constitution 28–30; publications 22–3; Furness, Fairman Rogers 129 and Russian history 31–2; support of Fursenko, Aleksandr 244, 250, 253, 255, Federalists 24–6 256n10 Experimental Cinema 204 Eyes on Russia 193–4, 197–8, 204–5 GARF (State Archive of the Russian Federation) 194 Fackenthal, Frank D. 147 Garvey, Marcus 184–9 Fainsod, Merle 232 Garveyism 185 Far East 100–2, 214, 220 Gaylord, Franklin A. 131, 135 Far East University (USSR) 184 Geneva conference (1955) 230 Farrow, Lee A. 1, 3, 74 Georgia 193, 271 FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation) Germany 146, 149–51; and Hitler 195, 233 213–15, 219; invasion of USSR 221–2 February Revolution 161–4; see also Giddings, F. H. 114 October Revolution Ginzburg, Lyubov 2, 127 Federalist Papers, The 21, 27–33 Giullian, Jon xii Federalist Party 20–3 Gleason, Abbot 112, 118, 121 Federalists 20, 23, 29–31 Glinka, Mikhail 89 filetism 107 Godbuilding 115–17, 119, 121–3 Finland 220–1 Golder, Frank 85, 147 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Fireside Chat 219 Gold Rush 53 First World War see World War I Golikov-Shelikov expedition 7 Fischer, Louis 208 Golovnin, Vaslii 10 Fish, Hamilton 79–82 Gorchakov, Alexander 79, 83–4, 264 Fisher, Lola 234 Gorky (Peskov), Maxim 3; criticism Fitzhugh, George 66 of Dostoevsky 115–18; visit to U.S. Five-Year Plan 193–6 112–23 Flavian (Gorodetskii) 101, 103 Gorky, Maxim Maximovich 113 Florinsky, Michael 229 Gosizdat (State Publishing House) 195, Florovsky, Georges 170 196 Foglesong, David 72n1 Graham, Loren 239n25 Index 285 Grand Inquisitor 119–20 Hofstadter, Richard 246 Grand Society of Russian Railways 44–5 Hollywood 203 Grant, Ulysses S. 80–3 Holm, Julia 243–4 Great Britain 2, 8, 10, 14, 16–17, 23–5, Holodomor famine 213 33; and Asia 217–18; Crimean War Holt, William Joseph 57 51–2; and Far East 219–20; Federalists Holy Synod, Russian 101, 109n13 and 20–4; and Japan 99; Russian Homeopathic Medical Society of the support for 146: World War II 212 County of New York 26 Great Purge 202 Hoover, J. Edgar 233 Great War see World War I Hoover Presidential Library 237n1 Greece 270–1 Hopper, Bruce 229, 231 Greene, Jack P. 249, 256n9 Hough, David L. 130 Green-Wood Cemetery, Brooklyn 26, Hourwich, Isaac Aaronovich 89–90, 94, 35n41 96n17 Guild, Curtis 128, 130 House of Representatives, U.S. 78–81 Guriev, D. A. 16 Howells, William Dean 112–13 Hudson’s Bay Company 17 Hagemeister, Leontii 15 Hughes, Langston 189 Haile Selassie 219 Huiswood [Huiswoud], Otto 183 Hamilton, Alexander 21, 23, 27, 29–30, Hull, Cordell 212–14, 219 32–3 Hungarian Revolution 231 Hapgood, Isabel F. 89, 139n6, 141n40, 149 Hungary 273 Hapgood, Norman 147 Hunt, Wilson 14 Harlem Liberator 185 Huntsman’s Sketches 60 Harlem Renaissance 179, 188 Harper, Samuel 3, 139n6, 146, 155–6, Ignatovich, Boris 198, 207 229 Illinois 52–3 Harper, William Rainey 3, 88, 91–2 IMEMO (Institute of World Economy Harper’s Weekly 147 and International Relations) 241, 244, Harriman, William Averell 226 251, 254 Harris, Levett 23 Independent, The 114 Harrison, Joseph 36–7 Indiana University 230, 234 Harrison, Winans, and Eastwick 36 Innokentii (Pustynskii), bishop 101 Hartford, Connecticut 76 Institute of Current World Affairs 229, Hartford Convention 26 231 Harvard Crimson 232 International Bank for Reconstruction Harvard University 89, 91, 249; Medical and Development 225–6 College 54; Russian studies in 146–7, International Monetary Fund 226 154, 229, 231–2 International Workers of the World Hawaiian Islands 13 (IWW) 114 Hawaweeny, St. Raphael 101, 107 Inter-University Committee 231–2, 234 Hayes, Rutherford B. 84 Inter-University Committee on Travel Haywood, William 113–14 Grants (IUCTG) 234–5, 238n23 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Hazard, John 229, 231–2 Intourist 194, 205 Heald, Edward T. 162–6, 169 Iraq 267 Heartfield, John 202 IREX (International Research and Hecker, Julius 162, 170–3 Exchanges Board) 235, 240–6, 251 Henderson, Loy 232 Irkutsk 12 Herzen, Alexander 59 Iron Curtain 229–30 Hill, Robert A. 180 ISKAN (Institute of the USA and Hindus, Maurice 197–8 Canada) 241–5, 251–2 historical methodology 64–5, 72n1 Italy 218–19 historical profession 1 Ivanian, Eduard 165 Hitler, Adolph 212, 215–16, 219–20 Ivanov, Robert 250, 256n10 286 Index J. P. Morgan and Company 128n5 Korea 144–5 Jackson, Robert Louis 117 Koslov, Nikolai 25 Japan 99 108n1 138n2 144; efforts to Koulomzin, Sophie 172 contain aggression 219–20; Russian Kovalevsky, Maxim 88, 229 Orthodox mission in 102–3; World Kraft, Nikolai 36 War II 212, 214–17, 219 Krasnov, Ivan 250 Jay, John 221, 27 Kravchuk, Leonid 264–5 Jefferson, Thomas 9, 21 Kronstadt 40 Jewish Question 153 Kruzenshtern, Ivan 9 Jews, in America 147–8; hostility Kuchma, Leonid 262–4, 266–7 toward Russia, in Russia 147–8, Kurilla, Ivan xii, 2–3, 64 110n19, 149 Kuropiatnik, Gennady 250 Johns Hopkins University 91, 147, 249 Kuskov, Ivan 13 Johnson, Dr. 57 Johnson, James Weldon 181 Lacy, William S. B. 4, 229, 231–2, Jones, Arthur Mason 129 236–7, 238n11 journalism 178–9 Lacy-Zarubin Agreement 229 Juno 9 Landfield, Jerome 153 Lang, J. 70 Kachenovskii, Dmitri 72n9 Lawrence, D. H. 116 Kalugin, Oleg 236 Lazaret see American Hospital Kamchatka 7, 11, 13, 16 League of Nations 219, 224 Karamzin, Nikolai 22, 105 Leahy, Admiral William 217 Karmen, Roman 207 Lencke, Karl 130 Karpovich, Michael 229 Lend lease 221–2, 225 Kassov, Allen 242 Lenin, Vladimir Ilyich (Ulyanov) 156–7, Kedrof Quartet 229 161, 164, 171, 174 Kedrovskii, Alexander 109n12 Leningrad 230; see also St. Petersburg Kelley, Robert 216 Lenin Library 235 Kennan, George 88, 91, 150, 152 LeRow, Pam xii Kennan, George F. 166, 216, 232 Lewis, Meriwether 9 Kennan Institute 236 Liberator, The 181 Kerbedz, Stanislav 47 Library of Congress 250 KGB (Committee on State Security, Life 194, 206 Soviet) 195, 240–2, 249, 257n17 Lilienfeldt, Otto 75–6, 83 Khalatov, Arteshes 195 Lincoln, Abraham 69–71 Kharkov Ecclesiastical Seminar 22 Lippman, Erich 2–3, 112 Kharkov University 72n9 Lissitzky, El 198 Khesin, Alexander Savel’evich 90–1, 94 Lithuania 274 Khotovitskii, Aleksandr 102, 107 Litvinov, Maxim 214 Khrushchev, Nikita 174, 230, 233, 236 Living Church 172 Kiakhta, 11–12, 14 Locke, Alain 179 Kidder, Dr. Walter 74, 77, 82 Lomonosov, Mikhail 22 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Kiev (Kyiv) 128, 162, 165, 167, 169, London 22–3, 219–20 264, 269; Military District 168 London conference 213 King, Courtney 57 Longfellow, Charles A. 41 Kishinev 57; pogrom in 100 Loris-Melikov, I. G. 155 Klitschko, Vitaly 269 Louisiana Purchase 9, 18n11 Kodiak 10, 101 Lowell, Massachusetts 75 Kolt’tsov, Mikhail 197 Lowell Institute 91, 93–4 Komarov, Matvei 136 Lowrie, Donald 170 Konstanin Nikolaevich, Grand Duke Loyal Publication Society of New York 70 40, 43 Luce, Henry 223 Koonen, Alissa 207 Lusitania 146, 152 Index 287 Macfie, Kathleen S. 2, 178 Monroe, James 25 MacVeagh, Franklin 92 Monroe Doctrine 82 Madison, James 21, 25 Monterey, California 9 Magnitogorsk 202, 205 Montesquieu 21, 105 Maiden 269 Moore, Richard Benjamin 184–5, 187 Main Society of Russian Railroads 42–5 Morse, Samuel F. B. 55 see also Grand Society of Russian Moscow 131, 166, 202, 205, 206, 214, Railways 230, 232 Mal’kov, Viktor 250 Moscow Art Theater 205, 229 Maria Fyodorovna, Empress 133 Moscow State University (MGU) 235 Marshall Plan 230 Moseley, Phillip 232 Marye, George T. 130 Mother (Gorky) 113, 115 Marye, Mary Alice Doyle 128, 135 Mott, John R. 162, 167 Maryland 52, 250 Moyer, Charles 113–14 Masaryk, Tomas G. 88, 229 Munich conference 219, 228n28 Massachusetts 24, 52, 54, 59 Muraviev, Matvei 17 Massachusetts Institute of Technology Murav’ev, Semen 15 (MIT) 243 Murmansk 167 Maxwell, William J. 190 Mussolini, Benito 219–20 McCain, John 268–9 My Fair Lady 234 McCann, Kevin 233 McCarthyism 195, 234 NAACP 187 McClellan, George B. 52 Nadezhda 9 McCully, Newton A. 132 Naison, Mark 184 McKay, Claude 184, 188 Napoleon Bonaparte 20, 23–4 Mearsheimer, John 171 Napoleonic wars 20, 23–4 Melamed, L. M. 152 Nashville Gazette 59 Mel’nikov, Pavel 36, 38; as minister of Nation, The 89 ways and communications 41, 45–6 National City Bank of New York 128, Mel’nikov, Yuri 245 131, 133, 138n5, 140n19, 140n27, Meserve, Fesenden 128–9 159n53 Meserve, Helen Fessenden 128 National Security Council, U.S. 230 Mexican War 29, 51 Native Americans 7, 11, 17, 62n8, 101 Mezhericher, Leonid 199–202 NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Mezhlauk, Valery 197 Organization) 262, 274 MGU see Moscow State University naval arms race 218 Mikhail, Grand Duke 58 Naval Scientific Committee, Russian 40 Mikhailov, Boris 250 Nazi-Soviet Pact 220–1 Miliukov, Pavel N. 88, 147, 229 Nedelia 144 Miller, Matthew Lee 1–4, 139n8, 161 Negro Labor Congress 188 Mills, C. Wright 231 Nesselrode, Karl 15 Ministry of Finance, Russian 15, 42–3 Neva 9 Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Russian 14–15, Nevsky Prospekt 163 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 77, 83–4, 156; Soviet 194, 249 New Dear, study of 246–7 Ministry of Higher Education, Russian New England 8, 10, 23, 26, 51, 235 234, 247 Newhall, G. G. 75 Ministry of Interior, Russian 146 Newman, Edward M. 209n6 Ministry of Public Education, Russian New Orleans 235 89–91 New York (state) 52 Minor, Robert 183 New York City 12, 20, 71, 74, 113, 149, Mississippi 52 172, 179, 202, 235; Russian consulate Moldavia 55 in 26 Moley, Raymond 214 New Yorker 230 Molotov, Vyacheslav 226, 230 New York Herald 81, 108n1 288 Index New York Life Insurance 136 Paris 22 New York Times 59, 112, 146, 199, 230 Parke, Charles Ross 53–4, 56–7, 60–1; New York World 81–2, 113 description of peasant life 54; diary 62n8 Nezdel’nitskii, Ioann 109n12 Pashkovskii, Feodor 109n12 Nicholas I 36–7, 51, 61, 70, 93 Pearl Harbor 212 Nicholas II 99, 103, 148, 161 Pennsylvania 52 Nightingale, Florence 59 “people to people” program 231, 236 Nikitenko, Alexander 42 Peoples’ Friendship University, Moscow Nikolaevskaya Railroad 38–47 236 Nikolai (Kasatkin), Bishop 102 Perkins, Anna 78–81, 83 Nixon, Richard 236 Perkins, Benjamin 3, 74–8, 80, 82 NKVD (Peoples’ Commissariat of Perkins claim 3, 74–80; and U.S. Internal Affairs) 194–5 government 80–5 Nootka Sound 10, 13 Perovsky, Mikhail 129, 140n21 North American Review 66, 72 Persian Gulf 144 North Pacific 6, 8, 10–11, 14–16 Peskova, Ekaterina 113; see also Gorky, Norton, Charles E. 91 Maxim Noskov, Vladimir 1–2 Peter I (the Great) 6, 23–4, 51, 92, 105, Notes from Underground (Gorky) 118 107, 148 Novo-Arkhangel’sk 9, 11–13, 15 Peter and Paul Fortress 163 Novorossiya 274 Petrograd 127, 129, 164, 166; American Novoye vremia 144 Hospital in 129–31; Duma 129 Noyes, George 146 Petrov, Alexander 1–2, 6 nuclear weapons 265–6 Philadelphia 11, 37, 102, 235 Nuland, Victoria 268 Philippines 220, 231 Nureev, Rudolf 234 Phoenix 10 photography 196–9 Obama, Barack 267 Pickens, Francis 38 O’Cain, Joseph 10 Pierce, Franklin 51 October Revolution 161–4; see also Pierce, Herbert H. D. 135, 141n February Revolution Pil’niak, Boris 207 Odessa 52, 57, 167 Pipes, Richard 104–5, 229 Ogonek 197, 206 Pirogov, Dr. Nikolai 56, 59 Okhotsk 15 Plekhanov, Georgy 150 Oklahoma State University 237n1 Plekhanov, Sergei 255 Omsk 165 Pobedonostsev, Konstantin 105 Operation “Overlord” 224–5 Poland 236, 261, 264, 270, 273; crisis of Orange Revolution 262–5, 267–8, 273 1863 40; German invasion of 220–1; Oregon 13 Russian retreat from 151 Orientalism 144 Polish Soviet War 264 Orthodox Church see Russian Orthodox Politburo (Political Bureau of Central Church Committee, Communist Party of the “Others” 64 Soviet Union) 194 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Otis, Harrison Gray 24 Polk, Jennifer A 177n52 Ottoman Empire 51 Pomutz, George 41 “Owl of Minerva” 203–4 Poole, Ernest 113–14, 123n5 Ozerov, Ivan 154 Porgy and Bess 230, 234 Port Arthur 101–2 Pacific Ocean 8 Possiet, Admiral Constantine 83 Pacific (American) Northwest 2, 6 Post-Cold War era 261, 271–2, 274–5 “Pact of Four” 218 Potter, May T. 130, 136 Panaev, Valerian A. 38–9 Prince, John Dyeley 147, 154 Panin, Ivan N. 91 prisoners of war, Austrian 166–8; Pares, Bernard 146 German 165–8, Russian 172 Index 289 Proctor, Edna Dean 141n40 Wars 21–4; in Northwest America Progressive Era 148 8, 10, 14; peasants described 54; and Prohibition 148 Perkins claim 79–82; serfdom in 64–6; promyshlenniki 8, 249 see also USSR Provisional Government 167 Russian America 2, 12–14, 47, 249 Prozhektor 197, 199, 206 Russian America Company (RAC) 6, Pudovkin, Vsevolod 205 9–17 Pupin, Michael 147, 158n19 Russian-American Chamber of Commerce Pushkin, Alexander 93, 142n41, 185 143 Putin, Vladimir 263, 267, 272–4 Russian-American Journal of Commerce “Putinism” 274 155 Russian Assembly 144–5 Rackelwicz, Charles 74–5, 80 Russian Civil War 162, 167 Ragozin, Zenaida 148 Russian Federation 237n1; and Ukraine Railway Fund, Russian 46–7 265–75 Raleigh, Donald 255, 257n26 Russian Information Bureau 196 Ralli, John 52 Russian (Harriman) Institute 229, Raphael, Bishop see Hawaweeny 231–2, 235 Rattee, Susannah 209n1 Russian Orthodox Church 3, 16, 99, 103, Rauschenbusch, Walter 170 113, 170, 173; diocese in America Red Army 161, 194 100–2, 105, 107; in Japan 102 Redford, Bart xii “Russian Peoples House”, New York 149 Reed, John 184 Russian Red Cross 147 Republican Party 214 Russian (Davis) Research Center 229, Retvizan 102 232 Reutern, Mikhail 41–3 Russian Revolution 181 Revolutionary War, American 23 Russian Studies, in America 88–95, 153–5, Revolution of 1905 100 146–8, 219–33, 246; in Great Britain Reynolds, Elizabeth 147–9 146 Rezanov, Nikolai 9, 11 Russkaia Zemlia 159n32 RGASPI (Russian State Archive of Russkii Emigrant 150 Social and Political History—“Party Russo-Japanese War 99, 107, 138n2, Archive”) 194 144–5 Rhode Island 9 Russphobia 150 Rieber, Alfred 255, 256n9, 257n26 Roberts, Henry 232 Sabler, Viktor 102 Robeson, Paul 189 Safire, William 264 Robinson, Cedric J. 191n33 Samara 169 Robinson, Geroid T. 229, 232 San Francisco 13, 101, 235 Rodchenko, Alexander 206 Saul, Norman E. xii, 2, 23, 61, 229, 242, Rommel, General Erwin 224 255, 257n26 Roosevelt, Eleanor 248 Schlesinger, Arthur, Jr. 244 “Roosevelt Factor” 226 Schomburg Center for Research in Black Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Roosevelt, Franklin D. 4, 212–26; his Culture 189 internationalism 212; opposition to Schorr, Daniel 230 isolationism 219; in World War II 220–6 Schuyler, Eugene 43, 45–6 Roosevelt Presidential Library 237n1 Scorsese, Martin 252 Ross Winans 40 Scott, Cynthia 242 Rostov 206 sea otter 7–10 Rubinshtein, Rafael’ 207 second front, in World War II 225 Rumiantsev, Nikolai 25–6 Seligman, E.R.A. 90 Runkle, John D. 91 Semenova, Ekaterina 207 Russia 2–3, 51; Asianism 100; immigrants Serbia 101, Russian support for 263, 265, from 98n28, 100–1; and Napoleonic 274 290 Index Serebriakov, Leonid 195–6, 200 conferences 226–7; relations with serfdom in Russia 64–7, 71–2 Roosevelt and Churchill 217–8; Serov, Serafim 198 strategy in World War II 220–4 Sevastopol 55, 58 Stanislavsky, Konstantin 229 Sevostianov, Grigorii 241–3, 256n9, Stankevich 252 256n11 State Archive of the Russian Federation Seward, William H. 78–9 (GARF) 167, 194 Seymour, Thomas H. 38 State Department see Department of Shaikhet, Arkady 198, 207 State Shelikhov, Grigory 7 St. Petersburg 235 Shelikhova, Natalia 7, 13, 16 St. Petersburg Institute of History and Shestakov, Vladimir 252, 254 Philology 91 shestidesiatniki 236 St. Petersburg-Moscow railroad see Shipbuilding Technical Committee, Nikolaevskaya Railroad Russian 40 St. Petersburg University 90–1, 144 Shmidt, Lazar 197 St. Petersburg Vedomosti 102 Shulman, Marshall 232, 245 Stern, Seymour 204 Siberia 165, 167, 172 Stewart, J. B. 81 Sigma see Syromiatnikov, Sergei Stoeckl, Baron von Edouard 74–5, Sinclair, Upton 204 79–81, 85 Simferopol 56–7 Stokes, James 128, 162–3 Simons, George Albert 128–30, 135, Stokes, Rose 183 140n18, 141n31 Stowe, Harriet Beecher 59–60 Sino-Soviet conflict 236 Stroganov, Grigory 42–3 Sivachev, Nikolai 246–8, 250–2; study in Sudetenland 219, 269 U.S. 247, 255, 257–8n33 Suez crisis 231 Skolnikoff, Eugene B. 243 Sumarukov, Aleksandr 22 Skvirsky, Boris 196–7, 203–4 Summers, Maddin 169 Slavic folklore 136 Sumner, Charles 67 Slavophiles 105, 116, 118 Sutter, John 14 Smith, E. Pershine 79, 82–3 Syromiatnikov, Boris 154 Smith, Gerrit 68 Syromiatnikov, Sergei N. 3–4, 144–57, Smith, Goldwin 72 158n14, 159n32 Smith, L. McAllister 140n18, 140n21 Smith-Peter, Susan 2, 20 Tairov, Alexander 207–8 Social Democrats, Russian 150–1 Talbot and Company 75 Society for Promoting Mutual Friendly Tatishchev, V. N. 105 Relations between Russia and Taurida Hospital 136 America 128, 143 Taylor, Bayard 71 Sogrin, Vladimir 1, 4, 94n1, 212, 248, Tehran conference 225 250, 255, 257n26 Teller, Charlotte 114 Solov’ev, Vladimir 116, 122, 144 Tennessee 69 Souls of Black Folk, The 178 Third Reich see Germany Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 South Carolina 55, 57 Thompson, Llewellyn 232 South Korea 231 Thucydides 275 Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia 234 Thunder Over Mexico 204 Soviet Travel 198 Tiflis (Tbilisi) 128, 193–4 Sovetskoe Foto 200 Tikhon Bellavin, Patriarch 3, 99, 161; Soviet Union see USSR as bishop in America 101–7, 111n33, Spain 219 111n36 ; on democracy 105–6 Springer, John 166 Tilsit, Treaty of 10, 22 Sprunger, James 168 Time 223 Stalin, Joseph 171, 174, 231; era of Tisse, Eduard 205 251; and Nazi Germany 215; peace Tobolsk 90 Index 291 Tocqueville, Alexis de 26–8 186, 189, 191n14, 193; American Tokyo 220 students in 245–7; Five Year Plan Tolstoy, Ivan 77, 129 193–5; German invasion of 215; Tolstoy, Leo 88–9, 93, 115–16 incompatibility with U.S. 213–14; Tolstoyanism 116 industrialization 196; recognition trade, fur 7, 18n11; in North Pacific 13–14 by U.S. 215; tourism 196–7, 206; Treasury Department, U.S. 217 and Ukraine 262–4 in World War II Tretiakov, Sergei 206 216–25 Tribunskiy, Pavel 2, 88 Ustinov, Dmitri 246 Troianovskii, A. A. 215 Truman, Harry S. 226–7 Valaam monastery 7 Truman Presidential Library 237n1 Van Buren, Martin 35n52 Tserkovnye Vedomosti 102 Vanderlip, Frank 140n19, 159n53 Turgenev, Ivan 60, 93, 115 Variag 102 Turkey 270–1 Verkhovna Rada (Ukraine) 265, 268 Turnipseed, Dr. 55–7 Vernadsky, George 229 Twain, Mark 112–14 Vienna 53, 55 Twentieth Century Club 92 Vilnius Summit 268 Tymoshenko, Yuliya 268–9 Virginia 52, 58 Vladimir (Sokolovskii), Bishop 105 Ukhtomsky, Esper 144–5 VOKS (All-Russian Society for Cultural Ukraine 5, 165–6, 237, 261–9; East Relations with Foreign Countries) nuclear weapons in 265–6 194, 196–7 Ulyanov, Alexander 156–7 Voprosii istorii 165 “Uncle Joe” see Stalin, Joseph VSNKh (Supreme Council of the Uncle Tom’s Cabin 59 National Economy) 197 United Kingdom see Great Britain United Russian Socialists 151 War of 1812 12, 20, 23–4 United States 2–3, 5, 21, 153; African- War Prisoners Aid, YMCA 167 Americans in 186–9; and Alaska Washburn, Stanley 160n57 9–11, 14–17; and Crimean War 51–5; Washington, George 23, 31–2 embassy in Russia 168–9; Evstaf’ev in Washington D.C. 78, 83, 146, 167, 214, 22–5; in the Far East 144–5; Gorky’s 231 critique of 112–14; naval power in Washington Daily Chronicle 81 Pacific 219–20; relations with Ukraine Washington University, St. Louis 91 262–74; Russian railroad mission Webb, George Creighton 108n1 to 36–7; Russian studies in 89–93; Webb, Robert 249 Russophobia in 150–1; slavery in Wells, H. G. 113–14 59, 64–6; Soviet student/scholars in Wells, Herman B. 230 248–55; World War II 213 West, The 195–7, 261–3, 270–4 University of California, Berkeley 146, Western Europe 217 153–5 West Indies, emigration from 179, 188, University of Chicago 3, 90, 139n6; 191n33 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016 Russian studies in 89–95, 146–7; West Side Story 234 University Extension Division 90, 92 Whisenhunt, William Benton xii, 1–2, University of Chicago Press 248 51 University of Kansas xii, 236, 242 Whiskey Rebellion 23 University of Liverpool 146 Whistler, George Washington 2, 36–7 University of Michigan 147, 242 Whistler, George William 37, 41–2 University of Pennsylvania 52–3 Whistler, William McNeil 37 University of Washington 154–5 White, Andrew Dickson 66, 70 University of Wisconsin 147 Whitehead, William Riddick 55–7, 60–1 USSR (Union of Soviet Socialist Wiener, Leo 89, 139n6, 146 Republics) African-Americans in 184, Wikoff, Henry 66 292 Index Willcox, Louise Collier 114 World’s Columbian Exposition 89 Williams, Ada 92 Worthington, Dr. Wilmer 53 Williams, Wayne 165–8; criticism of Kennan 166 Yakovlev, Alexander 236, 239n25 Wilson, Woodrow 161, 167, 179–81, Yale University 170, 229 190n7, 221–2; Roosevelt compared Yalta conference 225 with 212–14, 219 Yanukovych, Viktor 262–4, 267–9, Wilsonian principles 219–23 271–4 Winans, Ross 2, 36, 39 Yaz’kov, Evgeny 250 Winans, Thomas DeKay 2, 36, 40–1 Yeltsin, Boris 264–6 Winans, Walter W. 37 YMCA (Young Men’s Christian Winans, William L. 2, 36–41; contract Association), American 161–4, negotiations in 1860s 42–6 167–74; International Committee Winans, Harrison, & Winans 37–8, 42 of 169; prisoners of war work 165–9; Winship, North 129 Russian (Mayak) 4, 128, 130–1, 161, Winter Palace 136 165–7; World Alliance of 166 Witte, Sergei 100 Yugoslavia 262 Wolkonsky, Sergei Mikhailovich 89–90; Yushchenko, Viktor 267 lecturer in U.S. 92–4, 96n12 women’s rights 148 Zamoshkin, Yuri 252 Woodrow Wilson Center 236 Zarubin, Georgy 4, 231–2, 236, 238n10 Worcester, New York 76 Zhuk, Sergei I. 2, 4, 240 Worker, The 183 Zhuravleva, Viktoria xii, 2–3, 72n1, 143 World Bank 226 Znamenskii, Andrei 255 World War I 3, 88, 127, 139n6, 143–4, Zolotukhin, Vladimir 245 166, 170–2, 178, 191n33, 221, 274 Zubok, Vladislav 240, 255 World War II, 4, 217–24, 242, 261, 274; Zurich 91 second front 225; study of 247 Zurich Polytechnic Institute 91, 94 Downloaded by [New York University] at 03:42 06 August 2016