
ABSTRACT In the still highly politicized question of rupture or continuity between the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, elements of continuity are not hard to find, nor should this be a surprise, since a new state arose in the same geographical space and made use of the economic, intellectual, and demographic resources inherited from the Russian Empire. At the same time, the Soviet Union could not have been more different than the Russian Empire. It rejected a number of key elements of the sociopolitical project that underlay the nationalizing tsarist empire and introduced radically new political and social principles for organizing that space. In particular, the Bolsheviks purposefully engaged in dismantling the tsarist efforts to build a great ethnic-Russian nation to stand at the center of the Russian Empire’s nationalities policy. The irreversible disintegration of post-Soviet space into separate nationalizing states became possible only toward the end of the twentieth century. At the same time, the imperial nature of the modern post-Soviet Russian core permits us to say that the imperial logic has survived. This is where we can find an element of inescapable continuity. We present studies of “continuities” and “ruptures” in modern academic discourse and in an updated format, gravitating toward “empirically nuanced” tools for analyzing multiple historical temporalities.
Why does the theory of law have such a significant role in Russian liberalism, and how is this related to the state of the legal system in Russia and to the public's legal consciousness? This introduction outlines several issues facing liberalism in Russia, including the lack of a classical liberal school, the limited nature of reforms, the state of the legal system and the justice system, an anti-legalism that has taken shape and strengthened in the public consciousness, and other relevant concerns. A brief description of the articles included in this special issue follows.
This article discusses the connection between the ideas of Fyodor M. Dostoevsky and Vladimir S. Solovyov on the need for cultural and moral transformation of those who would claim to participate in the historical process of Russia's development, as well as the contemporary interpretation of these ideas. Both Dostoevsky and Solovyov believed that it was Russia who was destined to restore universal meaning to Christianity, to lead Christianity out of the impasse of national exclusivity. Russia is capable of fulfilling this messianic role on the path to a universal theocracy that would impart the necessary spiritual elevation to humanity. Solovyov's theocratic dreams, which were based on Dostoevsky's religious ideas, were not destined to receive public support. The Russian intelligentsia found itself faced with the question, "What do we live for and what must we do?" Dostoevsky answered this question, followed by Solovyov: We must abandon any attempt to fight for cultural ideals when such a fight leads to resorting to violence. Those who are in charge of transforming life must themselves be spiritually transformed. Any other path would lead to social and cultural disaster. These thoughts of the two distinguished thinkers - the brilliant writer and the prominent Russian philosopher - are taking on a new significance in contemporary Russia. For today's reformers, the most important task is to restore the destroyed system of values (including, above all, values involving personal freedom of citizens). This means the cultural revival of Russia, without which social transformations will continue to be stuck in a vicious circle wherein one form of violence follows another. Fulfilling this task requires a spiritual feat akin to what the Russian thinkers were calling for in the late nineteenth century.
This article looks at Lev P. Karsavin's experience with the heritage of early Christian Gnosticism, from his attempts at stylization based on his study of genuine Gnostic texts and his systematic presentation of Gnostic systems in art almanacs published in the Soviet Union, to his perception of Gnosticism as a kind of "other principle" in his original religious-philosophical texts. We show that, following Silver-Age traditions, Karsavin uses myth as a form of philosophical thinking. He teeters on the edge of Gnosticism, applying certain Gnostic concepts, but he generally turns to Gnostic thought only to distinguish it from his own, which he presents as authentic to the Christian tradition. He criticizes both ontological and anthropological postulates of Gnosticism: the hierarchization of intradivine life, the introduction of the cosmic feminine into the bosom of the Divine, the interpretation of the Fall as the kenosis of God in time, and the explanation of the perfect God from the imperfect world, as well as the type of religious personhood that leads to a rupture in theory and personal faith. We examine Karsavin's reception of Gnosticism against the background of interest in Gnosticism in post-revolutionary Russia, as expressed by Kropotkinite anarchists, A. Karelin, V. Murav'ev, Yu. Danzas, and M. Kuzmin.
The Soviet authorities applied the most rigid model of state-confessional relations-segregation-to the Russian Orthodox Church. They emphasized the complete exclusion of the church from public life and its subsequent liquidation. By 1919 the Church was already publicly avoiding conflict with the Soviet authorities; its attempts at adaptation, however, were unsuccessful. By 1939, the church organization in the Soviet Union was practically eliminated, though the majority of the population still believed in God. This fact, as well as foreign-policy interests and the loyalty to the state exhibited by the majority of believers during the war, led to a softening of the segregation model and to the church's adaptation to operating within the Soviet state.