Логика Иван-Ивановичей такова: “русский, значит православный... не православный, значит не русский... не русский, значит враг, враг, значит ему нужно гадить везде и всюду... Далее не православный, значит безбожник... безбожник, конечно коммунист!^[1]

K. N. Platunov, P.V. Bazhenov, A.D. Sibiriakov. Tropa k tainomu, 1939

Russian émigrés in Belgium seem to be completely in line with the Soviet representation of the First Wave Emigration as a bunch of reactionaries who only wanted to restore their pre-Revolutionary privileges.^[2] Unlike émigrés in other European countries who actively contributed to local political, social and cultural developments^[3], Russians in Belgium made every effort to remain faithful to their old dreams and convictions.^[4] They were strengthened in this by the arrival of like-minded émigrés from other places and by the mythical belief that Belgium was the host country that would best serve their interests. To maintain their “purity” they had to permanently (re)define their position in the face of non-ethnic Russians, non-Orthodox and non-Monarchists. Especially in Belgium, there was no space for wavering between them and us...
One of the most remarkable things about Russian émigrés in Belgium was that their number was constantly increasing during the 1920's and 1930's, whereas the Russian communities in other West European countries were rapidly diminishing. Judging from a 1939 survey made by the London Royal Institute of International Studies, the Russian colony in Belgium grew from 3,823 in 1922 to 7,000 in 1930 and 8,000 in 1936-1937.^[5] Although these data are not completely reliable, additional information^[6] suggests that the number of Russians in Belgium at least remained stable throughout the 1930's. Belgium was certainly not more tolerant of Russian refugees than other European countries, but clearly failed to remove unwanted foreigners from its territory.^[7] This was common knowledge to political refugees since the 19th century and many Russian revolutionaries had sought refuge in Belgium, including Bakunin and Lenin^[8], but this fact alone cannot fully explain why Belgium was so attractive to Russians. Mythology, undoubtedly, had an equal part in it, for the Russian émigrés and their descendants maintain to this day that they enjoyed special protection from King Albert (1875-1934) and Cardinal Mercier (1851-1926). King Albert and Cardinal Mercier were praised for their uncompromising anti-communism and hence their sympathy for Russian émigrés.^[9] To a certain extent both King and Cardinal reminded the émigrés of their lost Autocracy and Orthodoxy. Although their resistance against the Germans during the First World War had gained them much sympathy in Russia, both King and Cardinal had no real concern for the Russian refugees. King Albert had little sympathy for the tsar and considered autocracy an outdated political system.^[10] During the war he had followed the events in Russia only from a distance and afterwards never displayed emotions when the Russian question was raised.^[11] Apparently – unlike the Tsar – he understood that politics were out of his realm of power and he never seriously criticised the government's policy towards Russia and its refugees. As a matter of fact, the government sought an elegant excuse to re-establish economic relations with Soviet Russia and thought it unnecessary, even dangerous, to help Russian refugees.^[12] As a result, the task of helping Russian refugees largely fell to non-governmental organizations, in practice the Catholic Church, omnipresent in Belgium. Indeed, the Church opened its doors to the refugees and by doing so set an example for other countries, but the Church's real concerns were less charitable than political: by helping these “poor Russian Christians”, the Church was hoping for a prominent role in a future, liberated Russia.^[13] This mythology was corroborated by a chance concurrence of circumstances. Belgium, for instance, established diplomatic relations with Soviet Russia only in 1935, far later than most other countries. This had nothing to do with the alleged resistance of the King against a de jure recognition, but was only the logical, albeit slow outcome of the commercial relations between Belgium and the Soviet Union that had been existing since the mid-1920's.^[14] Much stronger support for the myth of Belgian hospitality was the arrival in Brussels of General Petr Vrangel’ (1878-1928) in 1926. Although Vrangel’ had more or less retired from “active duty” and only had rejoined his family who was already living in Belgium, his move was seen as a political statement. The speech he delivered in December 1926 before a public of Belgian and Russian nationalists and military became Vrangel's political testament.^[15] After Vrangel's passing, in 1928, his family and collaborators further cultivated the myth of an anti-communist Belgium as a haven for irreconcilable political and military opponents to the Soviet regime. After the leftist Popular Front had come to power in France in 1936, several military units and the editor of the military journal Chasovoi moved from Paris to Brussels. Finally, in 1938, after the kidnapping of General Miller by the GPU in Paris, Brussels became the headquarters of the Russkii Obshche-Voinskii Soiuz (ROVS), the union of Russian war veterans founded by Vrangel'.^[16] Given the fact that it was precisely these people who showed little interest in assimilating and did not apply for a Belgian citizenship, it is likely that this explains why the number of Russians in Belgium remained so high.
The myth of Belgian hospitality, however, would not have existed if the Russian colony had not so impetuously tried to preserve its national, religious and political integrity. Its exclusive, if not reactionary interpretation of nationhood resulted in a set of parameters that were used to single out those people who did not match the set ideal. Moreover, the Russian colony never questioned its own purity and neither did it try to broaden its circle by recruiting new adherents or converts. On the contrary, as the Second World War drew closer, it wanted to restrict access to the inner circle even further and put up new borders to entry. With the help of some striking examples, this article will demonstrate precisely how the different identity-defining parameters were applied.

ETHNICITY

At the end of 1919, well before the Belgian government grew aware of the refugee problem that was presenting itself on Europe's eastern border and passed the responsibility for help over to non-governmental organizations, a group of Antwerp Zionists founded a Comité de Secours aux Etudiants russes en Belgique (The Committee for Help to Russian Students in Belgium).^[17] The initiators were active in Ezra, an organization that helped East European Jews to settle in the United States.^[18] To raise money for the enterprise the committee turned to Lev Berlin (1854-1935), a lawyer, non-Zionist Jew and Freemason who had easy access to financial circles in Brussels.^[19] Berlin accepted the presidency of the committee on condition that it would not restrict its help to Russians of Jewish origin. Although this condition was met, the committee would last for only two years.^[20] In December 1922, the Antwerp Zionists returned to their core business and would never again get involved in Russian affairs.^[21] Berlin, on the contrary, continued to devote his time and money to the cause of Russian émigrés. His openness to non-Jewish Russians and his strong dislike of the Bolsheviks,^[22] however, did not prevent him from ethnically being singled out and discredited. A rather unappetizing role in this “ethnic cleansing” was played by Evgenii Neverov (1876-1959), a Petersburg lawyer who had obtained a lectureship in Russian language and literature at the Catholic University of Leuven.^[23] In front of his Catholic employers Neverov claimed that he would support the Catholics in their “fight against Jews'. Consequently, he simply ignored the important role that Berlin had played in the founding of the Russkaia akademicheskaia gruppa v Bel'gii (The Russian Academic Group in Belgium), one of the first organizations of Russian émigrés in Belgium.^[24] As a result, by the mid-1920's the Russian Academic Group in Belgium had no Jewish members left.^[25] Neverov and his likes correctly believed that their attitude would get the approval of the Belgians on whom they were dependant. Cardinal Mercier, for instance, was reluctant to support the Russians until he learned that Belgian socialists and liberals – among them Jews and Freemasons like Berlin – were making plans to help the Russians.^[26] The Belgian diplomat Bernard de l'Escaille (1874-1957), who had organized Belgium’s propaganda efforts in Petrograd during the war and who was now in charge of Belgian aid to Russian refugees, rejected the participation of Jews in the enterprise, considering that it would “undermine” the trust that Russians had in Belgium. The presence of Jews in the aid committee would jeopardize the role that Belgium might play in a future, Bolshevik-free Russia.^[27]
In the early 1920's the curtains between Jews and ethnic Russians had not yet been drawn completely, because the émigrés were still too dependant on the help that (Russian) Jews could provide through their Belgian relations. This was for instance the case with Mariia Goldschmidt-Brodskaia, whose brother-in-law was the Belgian Minister of Foreign Affairs Paul Hymans (1865-1941). Although she interfered in favour of both the Russian nobility and Russian orphans, she was never really a part of the Russian colony.^[28] The reluctance of the émigrés to accept non-ethnic Russians in their midst had a political, rather than a genealogical or biological origin.^[29] Many of the Russian Jews (and Freemasons!) who had established themselves in Belgium before the war had a revolutionary background and therefore were easily associated with the people who had brought Russia to rack and ruin. This association was not restricted to Jews, but was also applicable to other pre-Revolutionary exiles. Émigrés sought no contact with “old” organisations and their representatives. They even suspected “converts”, like Konstantin Platunov (1885-1965), an former social-democrat who in 1918 had volunteered for the White Armies.^[30] In 1939 Platunov wrote about the attitude of his fellow-countrymen as follows:

Мы принадлежим к поколению русской революционной интеллигенции начала текущего века. В период от 1904-го по 1909-ый год – как вся студенческая молодежь этого времени – мы были членами Р.С.Д.Р.П. Эту партию мы покинули в 1909-ом году т.е. задолго до основания Компартии. В Бельгию мы прибыли после революции 1905-1907-го года, откуда следует, что мы не имеем ничего общего ни с гражданской войной, ни с белым движением.
Узнав эти “позорные факты” (!) Иван Ивановичи сочли “долгом чести донести по начальству” и конечно умолчали о том, что мы давно вышли из С-Д. партии.^[31]

Even an anti-Bolshevik émigré like the former Socialist-Revolutionary Minister of the Navy in the Provisional Government Vladimir Lebedev (1882-1956) was not immune to criticism. In March 1926, a speech he delivered in Liège was interrupted by Russian patriotic youth. According to one of the participants of the raid, Nikolai Andrault de Langeron (1899-?), Lebedev was nothing less than a provocateur, while the meeting was called by socialists and... Jews. Andrault de Langeron formally denied that he and his friends were just a bunch of reactionary Monarchists, but pertained that they nevertheless had the right – and the duty – to protest against agents provocateurs.^[32]
Whatever the case, ethnic Russians and Jews in Belgium could not really be reconciled even by the broadest of minds. This had a definite impact on the level of Russian cultural life in Belgium. Whereas the Soiuz russkikh evreev v Bel'gii (The Union of Russian Jews in Belgium) regularly invited Russian authors from Paris and Berlin to perform in Brussels, the Russkii klub (Russian Club) would specifically not invite these authors in order to prevent the Russian colony from being “affected” by Nabokov, Tsvetaeva and others. Even an intermediary figure like the poet and journalist Zinaida Shakhovskaia (1906-2001), who negotiated with Russian artists on behalf of both the Russian Club and the Union of Russian Jews, was never really trusted in traditional Russian circles. She would eventually flee her Russian surroundings and fully integrate into her Belgian environment.^[33]

MONARCHISM

Both the above-mentioned Neverov and Andrault de Langeron were either members of, or at least closely associated with, the Soiuz russkikh monarkhistov v Bel'gii (The Union of Russian Monarchists in Belgium). The Union manifested itself for the first time in September 1922 in a letter of acknowledgement to Cardinal Mercier.^[34] It was also closely related to Father Petr Izvol'skii (1863-1928), a former Oberprocurator of the Holy Synod who was now serving as the priest of the Orthodox Church of Saint-Nicolas-the-Miracle-Worker in Brussels. Several members of the Union had participated in the Monarchist Congress of Bad Reichenhall in June 1921^[35] and at least one of them, Izvol'skii's former secretary at the Holy Synod and Senator Aleksei Rogovich (1858-?), was known as an ardent anti-Semite.^[36] It suffices to look at the list of “Belgian” participants in the “Congress of Russia Abroad” in Paris in 1926, largely chosen among the Union's members, to understand its growing impact. The Union was led by two engineers, Emmanuel Frichero (1880-1959) and Aleksei Gladkov (1887-?). Frichero, on the one hand, was also the president of the Soiuz russkikh inzhenerov v Bel'gii (The Union of Russian Engineers in Belgium), a group of people who originally formed in Tsarist Russia. The list of members of the Union of Russian Engineers largely coincided with that of the Union of Russian Monarchists and both organizations would blossom beginning in 1927-1928. Gladkov, on the other hand, was treasurer of Izvol'skii's parish committee.
Initially, both monarchists and Orthodox parishioners kept a low profile, but by 1923, they started to monitor Catholic help to Orthodox Russians. Although Izvol'skii had befriended Mercier and had exchanged many thoughts with the Belgian prelate in an atmosphere of almost true ecumenism, the Russians were worried by the pressure that Catholics “on the ground”, i.e. in schools, exercised on Russian children. To prevent them from being converted to Catholicism, the Comité de Patronage des Enfants russes en Belgique (The Committee of Patronage of Russian Children in Belgium) sent delegates to the schools to inspect the religious and moral welfare of their children.^[37] This interference caused hefty indignation among Catholics who laid the blame for this hostility on the “esprit monarchique” of Izvol'skii and his friends.^[38] These circles adopted a similar attitude in relationship to the orphanage of Mrs. Anastasiia Kuz'mina-Karavaeva (1886-1940), which had come under the protection of the Catholic priest Joseph Decraene (1881-1935) in Glain, near Liège.^[39] It resulted in the partial transfer of the orphanage to Brussels, the ethnic cleansing of its board (Lev Berlin and Mariia Brodskaia had to resign) and the subjugation of the institution to the Russian Red Cross in Belgium.^[40] This only took place after Izvol'skii and his friends had taken full control over the Red Cross and had dismissed its former president, Vera Naryshkina-Witte (1883-?). Naryshkina-Witte, Sergei Iu. Witte's stepdaughter, was far too liberal for their liking.^[41] Undoubtedly, the Russian monarchists in Belgium took courage from the visits to Belgium by the leader of the Vysshii Monarkhicheskii Sovet (Supreme Monarchist Council), the former Senator and notorious anti-Semite Nikolai Markov II (1866-1945), who fulminated against “impure” Russians.^[42]
The position of the monarchists within the Russian colony in Belgium would also benefit from the arrival of General Vrangel’ in the autumn of 1926. Vrangel's move had been organized by Frichero, who also introduced the General to the Belgian patriotic Comité de Politique nationale (Committee of National Policy), where he would deliver his famous speech on the position of the Russian army during the Civil War and in the emigration.^[43] Apart from that, Frichero's wife had been in charge of the transfer of Russian military personnel from the Balkans to the Belgian coalmines since 1924. Although the working and living conditions of the miners were far from ideal, at least the number of “potential monarchists” in Belgium had increased.^[44] Not unlike Belgian military personnel, Russian soldiers in exile identified more or less with the monarchy. And finally, thanks to the existing military structures, the organizational level of the Russian monarchist emigration in Belgium dramatically improved. Two partial outcomes of all this were the founding of a Belgian Branch of the Russkii Obshche-Voinskii Soiuz (ROVS, The Russian All-Military Union) in 1925 (hitherto a section of the German branch)^[45] and the grounding of a Russkaia strelkovaia druzhina (Russian Rifle Squad) in 1930 to raise the interest of Russian youth in military affairs.^[46]
By the mid-1930's, however, the direct link between the monarchists and the military was severed. Grand Duke Nikolai Nikolaevich (1856-1929), a former commander-in-chief of the Russian Imperial Army, had been succeeded as pretender to the Romanov-throne by Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich who had no military merits whatsoever and who technically speaking did not even have a right to the throne. It needed both legal casuistry and utter despair – there were no other acceptable pretenders left – before the Russian monarchists in Belgium accepted Kirill Vladimirovich as the legitimate heir. But once they had turned their Union of Russian Monarchists in Belgium into a Union of Monarchists-Legitimists, there was no room left for wavering. This diversion of the monarchists from the military was in line with the fact that the Russian military abroad was constantly discrediting itself in the eyes of the monarchists. The military had been discredited by Soviet infiltration and weakened by the obvious lack of political determination. Moreover, whereas the Russian military – largely an older generation – stressed their willingness to remain neutral in political affairs, the younger generation called for politically inspired military action. This resulted in a series of political movements or parties, all of whom pretended that they and they alone would preserve Russia's interests by preserving the legitimate monarchist cause.^[47] All these parties somehow originated in the Russkaia strelkovaia druzhina, which was now also criticized for being too “neutral”, and competed between themselves for political purity. In the end, the discussions between Mladorossy, Rossiiskii Imperskii Soiuz (The Russian Imperial Union) and Natsional'nyi (Trudovoi) Soiuz Novogo Pokoleniia (The National (Labor) Union of the New Generation) turned to quarrelling over who would be “Russian” enough to lead the re-conquest of Bolshevik Russia.^[48]

ORTHODOXY

The “Russianness” of émigré organizations, however, was not exclusively determined by their ethnic or political background. Although these parameters certainly served to distinguish “them” from “us”, they were as such not readily applicable. You only have to look at the changing alliances and dependencies between ethnic groups and political movements to understand that these parameters only served temporary or personal interests. Another, totally uncompromising factor would have to take up the role of ultimate judge. In the Russian emigration in Belgium, Orthodoxy, or at least a particular, intransigent variety of it, would see to this. Its position, moreover, was directly linked with the monarchist cause. Initially, it manifested itself through the above-mentioned Comité de Patronage des Enfants russes en Belgique, which was directed by Aleksei Gladkov. Its actions were primarily aimed at preventing the Belgian Catholic benefactors from converting Orthodox children. Thanks to the moderating influence of Father Petr Izvol'skii, they had little or no political consequences. The majority of the Russians involved deployed the situation, but did not condemn the Catholic Church.^[49] Things, however, took a rapid change after the arrival of General Vrangel’ and his entourage in Brussels in 1926. Unlike Vrangel’, who as a military man had adopted a rather agnostic attitude, his wife Ol'ga (1884-1968), his secretary Nikolai Kotliarevskii (1890-1966) and General Aleksei Arkhangel'skii (1872-1959), had been convinced adherents of the Synod of Sremski Karlovcy, which from a reactionary, monarchist position claimed to be the true heir of the Russian Orthodox Church.^[50] The Synod, led by Metropolite Antonii Khrapovitskii (1865-1936), rejected the authority of Patriarch Tikhon (1865-1925) and Metropolite Sergii (1867-1944) of Moscow, because they were under the Bolshevik spell. Their representative in Western Europe, Metropolite Evlogii Georgievskii (1868-1948), under whose diocese Father Izvol'skii served, was also dismissed as being too liberal. Under the influence of Ol'ga Vrangel’ and Nikolai Kotliarevskii Gladkov tried to convince Izvol'skii to change sides, but as this did not work, he founded a new Synodical Parish in Brussels led by Vrangel's former confessor, Father Vasilii Vinogradov (1876-1932).^[51] The military leaders in Paris were extremely alarmed by this situation, for it implicitly implied that Vrangel’ had let go his “neutrality” in religious and political matters and now sided with those who only wanted to restore the old order in Russia.^[52] The calm was temporarily restored by the decease of General Vrangel’ and Father Izvol'skii in 1928, but from then on there were no moderate forces left to restrain the Orthodox-Monarchist-Russian alliance.^[53] Dvuglavyi Orel (The Two-headed Eagle), the journal of Markov II's Vysshii Monarkhicheskii Sovet, meticulously registered the growth of the Synodical Church in Belgium and rejoiced in the misfortunes of the Evlogian Church.^[54] In 1930, for instance, the journal announced the defection of Diakon Georgii Tsebrikov (1896-196?) from the Evlogian to the Catholic Church.^[55] The highlight of the Synodical movement, undoubtedly, was the construction of a new Orthodox Church devoted “to the Memory of Tsar-Martyr Nicolas II and all Russians Slain during the Time of Troubles by the Theomachist Regime”. Unlike existing places of worship, which were part of private houses, this “real Russian” church would remind the people of old Russia. Or, as the building committee formulated it:

Не одна тысяча русских людей проживает и в Бельгии, не одна сотня русской учащейся молодежи воспитывается здесь в католических монастырях. У большей части этих детей совершенно изгладился из памяти подлинный вид русского Храма, а многие и совсем его никогда не видали. Сооружение русского православного Храма в Бельгии стало неотложной необходимостью.^[56]

Although the construction of the church would only be finished in the 1950's, the collection of money, the purchase of a building plot, the meetings of the building committee, the editing of the parish journal and the actual construction (by Frichero!) helped to strengthen the cohesion of the Synodical Parish.^[57] This did not mean that the Synodical Parish could boast a large flock of adherents. On the contrary, during his visit to Brussels in May 1935 Archbishop Anastasii of Berlin was reported to have said:

Прошло десять лет, сказал Владыка, как я посетил впервые Вашу Общину. С тех пор уменьшилось Ваше число, но дух Ваш стал крепче и сила веры и твердости стояния за истину возросла. Вы перенесли за эти годы церковного раскола тяжелые искушения, но должно приходить искушениям, дабы явились искусные. Помните слова Господа: Не бойся малое стадо.^[58]

This marginalization only strengthened the determination of the Synodicals; they were a closed group, almost exclusively civilian representatives of the “old regime” who detested the “neutrality” of the military, the lack of convictions of the youth and especially the “lassitude” of the Evlogians, verging on proto-Catholicism or Bolshevism. Even a mixed marriage between Evlogians and Synodicals was unthinkable.^[59]
From an ideological point of view adherence to the Synodical Church in Belgium – and hence the stress on Monarchism and Russian ethnicity – almost completely coincided with sympathy for Nazi-Germany and its Allies by the end of the 1930's. Initially, this had been translated in support for the Spanish Nationalists. Father Aleksandr Shabashev (1881-1956) had celebrated Holy Services at the Galician Front^[60], while Ol'ga Vrangel’ had founded a “Komitet pomoshchi russkim voinam v Ispanii i ikh sem'iam” (Committee to Assist Russian Soldiers in Spain and their Families).^[61] In April 1939 the socialist daily Le Peuple openly accused the Synodical church of Nazi sympathies^[62], a thesis that was corroborated by the right-wing journal Rex.^[63] Some members of the Parish had indeed professed their belief in Germany – Nikolai Kotliarevskii, among others, sent his children to the German school in Brussels – while others had been identified by Belgian State Security as pro-German. Nevertheless, State Security considered the whole affair rather as a settlement of accounts between Synodicals and Evlogians.^[64]
Whatever the case, the Synodical Church in Belgium would constitute the backbone of Russian collaborationism in Belgium. Even if the Church as such was not itself in charge of the collaboration – this was fully in the hands of Iurii Voitsekhovskii (1905-1944) – the situation fitted their purposes remarkably. Already in November 1940 Aleksandr Nemolovskii (1880-1960), the Evlogian Archbishop of Brussels who had never spared his criticism of Russians sympathizing with Nazi Germany, in particular the parishioners of the Synodical church, had been arrested and deported to Berlin. In his place, Reverend Aleksandr Shabashev of the Synodical parish had been appointed head of the Russian Orthodox Church in Belgium. The remaining Evlogian parishes (Brussels, Charleroi) were placed under the jurisdiction of Shabashev. Moreover, Shabashev and his parishioners – including Kotliarevskii and Frichero – seemed all too willing to comply. They showed little or no concern for those who were not members of their parish including the majority of the military and, of course, Jews and Freemasons, and were prepared to sacrifice them all for the sake of the revival of old Russia. Some parish members even wore the German uniform and fought at the side of the Légion Wallonie on the Eastern Front!^[65]

CONCLUSION

The above-mentioned examples might undoubtedly refer to Monarchist, anti-Semitic and Synodical circles in places other than in Belgium. You only have to read Markov II's Vojny temnych sil or Vinberg's Krestnyj put’ to obtain a far more comprehensive overview of Russian reactionary thought in emigration.^[66] However, precisely these ideas, albeit often vaguely formulated, definitely dominated the Russian colony in Belgium. Moreover, as the Belgian repression after the Second World War was very mild in its treatment of Russian collaborationists^[67], these convictions even survive to a certain extent right down to upon today. As a result, this émigré community remained fairly closed to outsiders and was reluctant to admit newcomers. The identity of the group, however, did not depend upon a clear definition of who already belonged to the group, but upon a set of parameters that was dynamically applied to those that the group did not want to have dealings with. Jews, Freemasons and Catholics were not among their favorites, but they were only explicitly rejected when they no longer useful to the group (i.e. providing aid). The military was spurned from the moment that they refused to take a clear monarchist and Orthodox stand. The Evlogians, finally, were loathed because they represented another kind of Orthodoxy, less offensive and (consequently?) less patriotic. They were, of course, supported in this by the relative smallness of the group, the lack of a genuine intellectual debate and the presence in Belgium of a number of influential representatives of the old regime. There was therefore no deliberate choice between “them” and “us”, but a necessity of the time and the place in which Russian émigrés were living.