At the same time, Schelling's philosophy was the starting point for revolutionary thought in Russia. Under Schelling's influence the greatest biologist of Nicholaevan Russia, Karl von Baer, developed an idealistic theory of purposeful evolution which was to influence subsequent radical thinkers like Kropotkin and Mikhailovsky. More important, however, was the intoxicating effect Schelling's ideas produced on large numbers of thinkers who never acquired more than a confused third-hand knowledge of them. Frustration was drowned in philosophy as men saw themselves promised cosmic redemption, without being tied down to any predetermined scheme of how it would take place. Schelling encouraged men to think that profound changes might be forthcoming from the process of becoming, which was the essence of life itself. The belief grew that the previous generation's search for hidden keys to the universe, far from being chimerical, was merely immature and unrefined. The search for all-encompassing answers continued; and Schelling stands as a transitional figure from the crude occultism of Boehme and Eckartshausen to the ideological systems of Hegel, Saint-Simon, and Marx.
The Meaning of History
The most widely debated of all the "cursed questions" during Nicholas' reign was the meaning of history. In the wake of the Napoleonic war, Russians were more than ever anxious to know their place in history. The anti-Enlightenment had insisted that irregular, traditional patterns in history had meanings of their own; and Russians were not less determined to find out what these patterns were than romantic thinkers elsewhere. Their theology had been historically oriented, and their flight to philosophy led them naturally on to the philosophy of history.
The development in the romantic age of a broad, philosophical interest in history was to some extent the work of Baltic Germans who had been stimulated by contact with the Slavic world. Herder's broodings in Riga helped crystallize his idea that truth lay within history rather than beyond it; and that each culture was destined to grow and flower in its own way in the garden of humanity. Schlozer's long years of teaching and study in Uppsala and St. Petersburg helped him formulate his original plan for a "universal history." He pioneered in the use of Old Russian manuscripts for historical purposes, challenging the "Norman school" of Russian history and exciting his many Russian students at Gottingen with the idea that Russia had a unique role to play in the next stage of history. Throughout the Germanophile reign of Nicholas I, Baltic German writers continued to play a leading role in investing the distinctive popular institutions of Russia with a romantic aura of "higher truth": Haxthausen in his writings about the peasant commune (obshchina) and Hilferding in his "discovery" of the oral epics (byliny) of the Russian north.27
Meanwhile, the Russian interest in history grew rapidly. In 1804, the Society of History and Russian Antiquities was founded under the president of Moscow University. The defeat of Napoleon and the reconstruction of Moscow created a broad, popular interest in history, and Nicholas I contributed to it by encouraging the activities of a large number of patriotic lecturers and historians: Ustrialov, Pogodin, and others.28 Between Pushkin's Boris Godunov (1825) and Glinka's Life for the Tsar (1836), historical plays and operas dominated the Russian stage. Even in the underdeveloped cultural area of painting there was an abortive tendency toward monumental, patriotic canvases: climaxing in Briullov's "Fall of Pskov" and in his unfulfilled commission of the late thirties to provide Russian historical frescoes for the Winter Palace.20 Historical novels dominated the literary scene, as vulgar imitators of Walter Scott appeared even in the provinces.
M. Zagoskin started the long line of chauvinistic "Russians-and-Poles" novels with his Yury Miloslavsky of 1829, and his subsequent patriotic novels and plays enjoyed a spectacular vogue during the thirties. One scholar has counted 150 long poems on historical themes in the style of Byron and Pushkin written in Russia between 1834 and i848.so
Schelling's philosophy lent special intensity to the interest in history, with its insistence that the world was in a perpetual state of "becoming" and that peculiar national patterns were part of its ever-unfolding divine plan. As one "lover of wisdom" put it, Schelling provided "consolation" and kept him from being "stupefied by the atmosphere around me" by "summoning up to me my sacred fatherland."31 Schelling was sought out personally by many Russians, and he assured them that "Russia is fated to have a great destiny; never, until now, has it realized the fullness of its strength."32
The man who focused all of this interest of history on the problem of Russia's destiny was Peter Chaadaev. Chaadaev had gone off to fight Napoleon at the impressionable age of eighteen and had subsequently been subjected to most of the disquieting intellectual influences of the second half of Alexander's reign. He had known De Maistre, participated in higher order Masonry, and was a leading intellectual light in the restive Semenovsky regiment. As a specially favored adjutant, he carried news of that regiment's rebellion in 1820 to the Tsar, who was then meeting with the other leaders of the Holy Alliance at Laibach. Shortly thereafter, he resigned his commission and set off for Switzerland to begin a long period of romantic wandering and philosophic introspection, which kept him abroad until after the Decembrist uprising and brought him into contact with Schelling.
Returning for the coronation of Nicholas I in 1826, he began writing eight "philosophical letters" about Russia's historical development, which were largely completed by 1831. Though widely discussed in the early thirties, the first letter was not published until 1836. It echoed "like a pistol shot in the night,"53 bringing the wrath of official Russia on him and his editor, Nadezhdin, but serving to open up the unofficial debate over Russia's destiny that has come to be known as the Slavophile-Westernizer controversy.
Chaadaev's letter stands as a kind of signpost, pointing toward the radical, Westernizing path that was soon to be advocated for Russia. Written in polemic French and calling Moscow "Necropolis" (the city of the dead), Chaadaev insisted that Russia had so far been a part of geography rather than history, totally dependent on ideas and institutions imposed from without.
Chaadaev's extreme rejection of the Russian heritage is partly the result of De Maistre's influence-evident both in his tendency toward bold
statement and in his sympathy for Roman Catholicism. More profoundly, however, Chaadaev's dark portrayal of Russia's past and present serves to dramatize the brightness of the future. He emphasizes that Russia's absence from the stage of history may actually be an advantage for its future development. Chaadaev was, in effect, restating in philosophical terms what had been said by Leibniz to Peter the Great, the Encyclopedists to Catherine the Great, and the Pietists to Alexander the Blessed: that Russia was fortunate in being uncommitted to the follies of Europe and was still capable of serving as the savior of European civilization. Unlike all these predecessors, however, Chaadaev was a Russian speaking to Russians inside Russia. Moreover, at a time when tsarist pretensions were at their highest, he was not addressing himself primarily to the Tsar. To the guardians of "official nationality" there was a faintly subversive quality to his contempt for the cultural barrenness and excessive humility of Orthodoxy and to his blunt assertion that "political Christianity . . . has no more sense in our times," and must "give way to a purely spiritual Christianity [which will] illuminate the world."34