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Memory Politics and the Russian Civil War: Reds versus Whites. By Marlene Laruelle and Margarita Karnysheva. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2021. vii, 155 pp. Notes. Bibliography. Index. Illustrations. Photographs. $17.95, paper.

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Memory Politics and the Russian Civil War: Reds versus Whites. By Marlene Laruelle and Margarita Karnysheva. London: Bloomsbury Academic, 2021. vii, 155 pp. Notes. Bibliography. Index. Illustrations. Photographs. $17.95, paper.

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  07 February 2023

N.G.O. Pereira*
Affiliation:
Dalhousie University, Canada
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Abstract

Type
Book Review
Copyright
Copyright © The Author(s), 2023. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of the Association for Slavic, East European, and Eurasian Studies

Despite its modest size this book is remarkably detailed, replete with extensive citations from a variety of rich literary and publicist sources. It presents a compact yet insightful picture of the role of political memory in shaping and reshaping the narrative of the 1918–1921 Red versus White Civil War in Russia.

The authors’ discussion is divided into four overlapping chapters: 1. “The White Officer: Historical Romanticism in Soviet Culture”; 2. “White Renaissance: Cultural Rediscovery without Judicial Rehabilitation”; 3. “White Memory Activism around the Russian Orthodox Church”; 4. “The Russian State's Search for National Reconciliation,” and a brief conclusion.

Drawing on numerous examples—both from high and popular culture—the authors contend that for a growing segment of “influencers” during the post-Soviet period, “the Whites represent the myth of an antebellum Russia, [with] its old-fashioned way of life, nobility, chivalry, and patriotic sense of duties” (2). Among exponents of this rehabilitation of the Whites as authentic expressions of Russian national identity were the group known as the “Russian Party,” as well as prominent writers, activists, artists, and academics, including Ivan Ilyin, Vadim Kozhinov, Vladimir Soloukhin, Ilia Glazunov, Valerii Ganichev, Vasilii Shulgin, Sergei Melgunov, Nikita Mikhalkov, Ivan Kovalchenko and notably Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. Several of these individuals also promoted anti-Semitic tropes in combination with rejection of the west, especially its “degenerate” liberalism. Solzhenitsyn believed in a Pan-Slavic state centered around Russia, encompassing Belarus, Ukraine and northern Kazakhstan—an eerie preview of what we are currently witnessing.

The problem of reconciling the more distant White past with the recent Red (Soviet) period posed ideological problems for both the Boris Yeltsin and Vladimir Putin administrations. How to celebrate the patriotism of Admiral Aleksandr Kolchak and General Anton Denikin without validating their “reactionary” politics? And what were the implications for the subsequent Soviet period? The authors’ answer is that “the White past can be a source of nostalgia, but not a political project for the country” (107).

There have been numerous calls (some from high places) for Kolchak's Soviet death sentence to be annulled or amnestied. Statues have been erected in his honor in Siberia and elsewhere. Denikin's remains have been returned to Russia and reburied at the Donskoi Monastery in Moscow. In the present context, it is worth noting that the general was adamantly opposed to the separation of Ukraine from Russia. Moreover, Nicholas II and his immediate family have all been canonized by the Russian Orthodox Church as martyrs to the faith.

The last emperor is celebrated for his modesty, faithfulness, and benign paternalism—all seen as distinct virtues of tsarism and the “natural’ form of government for Russia. The tragic demise of his rule, in this view, was not so much the fault of the Reds as of the west and its pusillanimous liberalism. To be sure, it was the pro-western, liberal Provisional Government—not Vladimir Lenin's Bolsheviks—that overthrew the Romanov dynasty (while Nicholas was with his troops in harm's way at the front). This perception of the west and its liberalism as inimical to the very existence of the Russian state is deeply rooted in Russian political culture and is echoed in Putin's rhetoric, especially of late. Veneration of Russian statehood and its expansive nature (imperialism?), however, is nothing new. It was central to Vasilii Kliuchevskii's magisterial nineteenth century history of Russia, and is implicit in the “Statist-Juridical School” of Konstantin Kavelin and Boris Chicherin.

Putin has stated on numerous occasions his belief in the primacy of the dirigiste state and his hostility to western ideas of cultural and political liberalism/pluralism. It is hardly surprising that Konstantin Malofeev, among others, has urged him to assume the title of tsar in order to restore the true form of Russian government. The authors conclude that “the Putin regime indirectly fosters the rehabilitation of tsarism” (112).

The text of Memory Politics is literate, readable, and informative. The question of its intended audience is less clear. If the general reader or student, it is too detailed. For the specialist it is an excellent summary, rather than an introduction to new information. The Selected Bibliography is exemplary for its literary examples and citations, yet comparatively light on historical background and analysis of the crucial Civil War period.