The private papers of Marie-Daniel Bourree, Chevalier de Corberon, secretary to the French minister at St. Petersburg during 1775–1777, chargé d’affaires in 1777–1780, and author of the diaries Journal Intime,^[1] contain a document entitled “La Russie.”^[2] The undated and unsigned eighteenth-century document represents a contemporary figurative description of eighteenth-century Russia as “a Giant, imposing in the distance by enormity of its mass, but in proximity rather shapeless by report of its dimensions.” Throughout the eighteenth century, the Colosse déformé was in the process of a gradual rise to power. But no matter how powerful the country became through the “hewing” of the “civilizing” process, for the majority of the outside observers the Giant remained a rude, barbarous, and outlandish creation.
Many spears were broken in attempts to prove either that Russia was indeed a country of European rank (whatever this means), or that in every respect it could not stand equal to major European players. The question of how to perceive Russia is still high on the agenda of many Western and Russian intellectuals. They have been wrestling with the attempts to fit Russia into the universal pattern of progressive history, which has been transforming from a “primitive” to an “advanced” society since the eighteenth century, the time of Russia’s “Europeanization” (“Westernization” or “modernization”) from above. At first the Russian elite, following Catherine the Great,^[3] decisively proclaimed that Russia was indeed European. Later, when Slavophilism flourished, they were not so sure they wanted to belong to Europe.
Europeans, for their part, have been struggling with this problem for self-serving reasons. The majority of early travelers’ accounts insisted that Russia was not European, while many eighteenth-century philosophes wholeheartedly embraced the Europeanizing projects of Peter the Great and Catherine the Great. The Napoleonic wars and the era of revolutions returned the image of “backward” Russia to the forefront. It seemed that because socially, economically, and politically Russia developed along lines different from those of Western Europe, the country was and still is often viewed as an outsider trying to enter the European mainstream.^[4]In this process of defining the polarity between Russia and Europe, Europe was understood not as a place but a civilization: an advanced level of material, intellectual, and moral development, and the culmination of mankind’s ascent from the “savage” state.^[5] In contrast, Russia was designated a place (and time) that was backward, underdeveloped, uneducated, and unenlightened. Russia was hierarchical, authoritarian, and monarchical, with no (or a significantly delayed) transition to secular, liberal, and democratic order.
Today, when considered through the lens of the current political, social, and economic situation in Russia and of the formation of European Union, the dispute about Russian “backwardness” (developmental “slowness” or inferiority) produces especially confused and troubling results. In this situation, the editors and the authors of the book Russia in the European Context make a valuable contribution to the discussion by providing an alternative framework for the interpretation of the Russia’s long nineteenth century.^[6] Their position is summed up in the subtitle. The contributors to the volume try to prove that Russia was definitely a member of a “European family,” at least during 1789–1914. This position is not a revelation in any sense, but their thought-provoking approach is a timely return to the theme.
In their introduction, the editors Susan McCaffray and Michael Melancon extensively criticize the Western axiom concerning Russia, according to which the economic backwardness, slowness of development, primitiveness of social institutions and overall cultural stiffness were considered the fundamental and most stable features of Russian history. It is true that throughout the “long nineteenth century” Russia’s economy grew, but not fast enough; its government policies both promoted industrial development and blocked it; and some Russians embraced the possibilities of private property, free markets, and individualism, while others rejected them. But, according to McCaffray and Melancon, this does not mean that nineteenth-century Russia was “the model of perversity” (P. 3). Instead, they claim that if we consider Russia as a member of the European family, we can achieve a more nuanced understanding of Russia’s individuality. Shifting attention back and forth from an analysis that generalizes to an analysis that identifies particulars can shed light on intellectual trends and assess specific national features.
McCaffray, Melancon and their authors analyze some features of nineteenth century Russian economy and society in order to establish that Russian development fits the general European pattern for that period. But was there a “general” European pattern? In the long nineteenth century, much like today, Europe was not uniformly developed. Traditionally, a country’s “progress” is defined by comparing it with the historical trajectories of the first-comers to the Industrial Revolution, such as Great Britain or Belgium. In these countries a successful industrialization followed high-productivity agricultural systems, highly developed market institutions, and political institutions that limited the power of agricultural elites. In this sense, Russia was different. Its inward-looking industrialization path was heavily dependent upon government policies. However, Russia was not alone on this path. Germany and Italy, for instance, also started the nineteenth century with significant impediments to labor mobility, including land tenure institutions and comparatively less productive agriculture. Like in Russia, in Germany the entrepreneurial innovators had to compete with landed elites to gain economic power.^[7]
The intention of the editors for analyzing the historical characteristics of Russia in a “European” framework requires a more extensive discussion of what “European” could mean in the context of the project. But instead of asking whether the concepts of “Europe” or the “West” are, in fact, clumsy artifacts or historical facts, the editors simply broaden the scope of the constructs to include Russia in it.
Another problematic issue in the introductory article is McCaffray and Melancon’s treatment of the term “Eastern Europe.” The editors mention it, but see its development and validity only in the context of the twentieth century. They specifically pinpoint the period after the Second World War as the point of geographical and mental demarcation between the “good” and the “bad” “Europe” (Pp. 1-10). However, following Larry Wolff’s line of reasoning in his Inventing Eastern Europe,^[8] it is possible to argue that the concept of “Eastern Europe” was invented in the imagination of Enlightenment intellectuals as a part of the construction of the modern West. Without explicitly defining the differences and identifying historical nuances between the terms like the “West” and “Eastern Europe,” the conceptualization of Europe as a “family” seems problematic.
Given the task, it is not surprising that the articles collected in the volume revolve around two main themes: economics and society. The majority of the chapters present a comparative view of the Russian Empire during the course of the long nineteenth century. In the first part of the book, appropriately titled “Envisioning an Economy,” the essays are supposed to oppose the perceived general backwardness of the Russian economy, particularly evident in the dominance of agriculture and a reluctance to develop industrial production, which, in the eyes of outsiders, contrasts sharply with the rise of a modern economy in European countries. As the articles demonstrate, by the beginning of the twentieth century, late imperial Russia boasted a “coherent factory labor code,”^[9] corporate banks, articulate apologists for industrial development both inside^[10] and outside government,^[11] and at least a few visionary entrepreneurs.^[12]
The volume’s second part, “Envisioning a Society,” contains analyses of the formation of a Russian national identity that did not “separate Russia from the West”;^[13] Esther Kingston-Mann’s article that unambiguously places the beginning of Russian social science, and particularly statistics, in a European context;^[14] a consideration of various associations in provincial Russia;^[15] a research into the peculiarities of the punishment system;^[16] a case-study on the insurance law in 1912;^[17] and finally Michael Melancon’s study into the interconnections between the government and society in 1910–1914 through the eyes of the press.^[18]
Although the editors announce in their introduction their intent to get rid of “the great interpretive tool of “backwardness,”^[19] many contributors to the volume continue to comfortably use it. For instance, when Lee Farrow considers the development of vested titles in Russia in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, she consistently follows the classical perspective of Russian backwardness. Farrow agrees that Russian and European inheritance and property laws shared many similar features, but instead chooses to concentrate on the differences. As a result, her conclusion states that because of state restrictions and strong clan interests in the ownership of land, Russia had “a very weak system of private property.”^[20] Farrow is not the only author who does not follow the course proposed by the editors. Jonathan Daly emphasizes that “…Russia lagged behind some, but not all, Western European counterparts,”^[21] and refers to “…Russia’s economic and social backwardness” when trying to explain comparative leniency in late imperial Russia.^[22] In light of the project, this rhetoric simply cannot be considered as an occasional slip into the conventional and convenient methodological framework. Even if the contributors of the programmatic volume cannot help but rely on the concept of “backwardness” as a tool, can it be the sign that the tool itself is more useful than the editors allow themselves to admit?
Nevertheless, as the editors of the volume agree, the debate on Russia’s place in Europe is an infinite one (P. 3). There are no definite answers, correct positions, or incontestable approaches in the confrontation between the Enlightenment rhetoric of unity and the modern episteme of difference. What the participants in the discussion can hope for, however, is to present a consistent argument. And the editors and the contributors to the Russia in the European Context have attempted to accomplish this with their praise-worthy effort.