No other question is more disturbing in the intellectual history of Russia than the question of its own identity. For three centuries, since Peter the Great bestowed the imperial crown on Moscow, Russia has been involved in this frantic dialogue with the West. In this mirror, held up by the civilization it emulates but also hates, Russia can contemplate its own face.

Oscillating between messianic impulse and self-doubt, Russia is a Gogolian trio gliding through the ocean of history in search of a destiny of greatness. Crime and terror, brutality and state lies are the tools used by the empire. Between Europe and Asia, Russia perceives itself as a sphinx that cannot tell its secret. The sense of the uniqueness of its mission is responsible for the frantic energy with which it crushed and destroyed nations: Russia, turned against itself, projects on the outside world the conquering rage of a state that knows no rest.

What is Russia?

Because the discussion around the question “what does it mean to be Russian” is inseparable from the trauma of autocratic modernization caused by the revolution of Peter the Great. The historical gap creates a framework for passionate interrogations. From now on, feverishness and restlessness prevailed in the literature and ideological movement in Russia. From Cheadaev to Blok, from Pushkin to Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, the Russian state is at the center of a debate that gives the voices of intellectuals a unique imprint.

And, perhaps, the tension in Pushkin’s poem tragically summarizes the dilemma of fate: the bronze horseman, the terrible Peter, is not only a demiurge who builds a new world, but also the one who crushes Eugene under the hooves of his statue. : the contradiction between state greatness and individual fragility is part of the tragedy of Russia itself. Peter the builder retained all his ambiguity in Pushkin’s text. Admiration for his heritage is mixed with fear born from the proximity of a colossus that harbors no mercy or compassion.

The tension between the hypnotic artificiality of St. Petersburg and the organicity of Moscow is part of the same history of Russian identity. If the first city is a manifesto of the Promethean will to break out of Eastern lethargy, then the second is where the energies of past fog and faith gather. The oscillation between the two images is an oscillation between the seduction of the West and the retreat of a universe marked by a sense of its uniqueness.

The transformation of the peripheral space in Catherine’s empire is accompanied by the birth of an elite that questions its own role. Criticism is motivated, for the most part, by the tragic disappointment caused by the freezing of the autocracy. The relationship between the elite and the state is extremely complex. From this elite come the Decembrists, Herzen or Bakunin. Obsession with the Russian state would be impossible in the absence of Western acculturation. Reflections on the fate of Russia take place within the framework provided by the West. Read more at Contributors.ro