Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical

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Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical Page 12

by Sciabarra, Chris


  By contrast, several major works in medieval and early modern history were used that had a distinctly “bourgeois” orientation. Included in the history curriculum were such books as P. Vinogradov’s Book of Readings on the History of the Middle Ages, D. N. Egorov’s anthology The Middle Ages through Their Monuments, and D. M. Petrushevsky’s Essays on Medieval Society and State and Essays on the Economic and Social History of Medieval Europe. The Soviets criticized Petrushevsky’s works for having little relation to established Marxist doctrine. In time, the curriculum was supplemented by texts that were much closer to the new spirit of Marxist historiography, including works by N. M. Pakul and I. I. Semenov on the Dutch and English revolutions (Shteppa 1962, 36–38).

  General Russian history was taught with the assistance of S. I. Kovalev’s General History Course. However, the most important textbook in this period was written by M. N. Pokrovsky. Pokrovsky, in league with Lunacharsky and Krupskaya, formed part of the Bolshevik triumvirate in charge of Narkompros, between 1918 and 1929.32 His Russian History in Briefest Outline (Russkaia istoriia v samom szhatom ocherke), published in 1923, was a very popular text that earned Lenin’s praise. Pokrovsky’s history was profoundly Marxist in its orientation, containing much important material.

  Thus, although Alissa was probably exposed to a variety of historical perspectives, her course of study was moving gradually in the direction of Marxist historiography. Even if she had rejected the materialist bias of the Marxist texts, she was learning typically dialectical modes of historical inquiry, which emphasized the interconnections between economic, political, social, and intellectual factors. However, as the scholarly atmosphere was chilled by Soviet repression, it is quite probable that most of Alissa’s teachers in the last year of her university education were at least pro forma Marxists, if not dogmatic Marxist-Leninists (Kline, 28 February 1992C).

  Still, during the early Soviet period most of Petrograd’s historians were non-Marxist in their political orientation. Unfortunately, an exhaustive search of the Leningrad archives by the university archivists, N. T. Dering and L. V. Guseva, did not uncover any specific information on Alissa Rosenbaum’s coursework, grades, or teachers.33 Yet it is clear that Alissa would have encountered a history department dominated by some of the finest Russian scholars of the twentieth century.34 Among them were:

  • L. S. Berg, the author of Theories of Evolution. Berg’s quasi-teleological approach emphasized that evolutionary changes had definite direction.

  • Nikolai Ivanovich Kareev, who taught courses on the French Revolution, and authored a number of theoretical works attacking Marxism. Though Lenin had criticized him sharply, he was not dismissed in the early Soviet period.

  • E. V. Tarle, who taught a Marxist historiography and surpassed even Kareev in importance in Petrograd’s history department.

  • Sergei Fyodorovich Platonov, who specialized in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Russian history and taught at Petrograd through 1925. Platonov offered a conservative-monarchist historical interpretation.35

  Pitirim Sorokin, who received his doctorate from Petrograd University in 1922, also taught in the College of Social Sciences and in the Sociological Institute as a sociologist-historian. In later years, as a renowned Harvard sociologist, Sorokin spearheaded “creative altruism” as a means of conquering the human “predatory instincts” he had witnessed in the Soviet Union. Perhaps remembering him from Petrograd, Rand later derided Sorokin as “a thoroughly Russian mystic-altruist.”36

  The Petrograd history department was also graced by the presence of the renowned Ivan Mikhailovich Grevs. Grevs was a specialist in medieval European history. He taught on the fathers of the Latin Church and the medieval humanists (including Dante and Petrarch). Grevs pioneered the seminar system and field trips in Russian higher education. He was a leading advocate for higher education for women.

  Perhaps the most important historian in the department at this time was L. P. Karsavin, who was a student of Grevs (Zenkovsky 1953, 843). Until 1922, Karsavin was the chair of the department. As a history major, Alissa would have met with Karsavin in some formal or informal capacity, either as his student, or in search of course-selection advice and general curriculum guidance.37 Karsavin was well known in Petrograd intellectual circles. Along with Platonov, Tarle, and Grevs, Karsavin gave regular talks in public forums, such as the Petrograd House of Scholars, the House of Literary Men, and the Theological Institute. He also participated in the workers’ council of faculty members as a representative from the university, lecturing at gatherings of Red Army soldiers and workers’ clubs (Shteppa 1962, 24–28). Like his colleague, N. O. Lossky, Karsavin advocated a philosophy of history that was conjoined to a general Christian worldview (Copleston 1988, 56). As a historian of the Church, he specialized in the theology and mysticism of the Middle Ages. He was a speculative and religious thinker in the tradition of Solovyov. He built his system on a religious metaphysic (Lossky 1951, 299). Karsavin applied the doctrine of the coincidence of opposites to the issue of the Trinity. Like Hegel, he saw historical development as holistic and organismic, an immanent process of becoming. As Lossky explains, in Karsavin’s system,

  The development of the subject is the transition from one of its aspects to another, conditioned by the dialectical nature of the subject himself and not by impacts from without. Karsavin rejects external relations in the domain of historical being. Every historical individual (a person, a family, a nation, etc.) is in his view the world-whole itself in some one of its unique and unrepeatable aspects; thus, the domain of historical being consists of subjects that interpenetrate one another and nevertheless develop freely, since each of them contains everything in an embryonic form, and there are no external relations before them. (307)

  Karsavin and many of the other distinguished historians who taught at Petrograd perpetuated the Russian yearning for synthesis. Whether she was reading her Marxist texts or attending the lectures of her non-Marxist professors, Alissa Rosenbaum was fully exposed to the dialectical methods distinctive to Russian thought and scholarship.

  MINORING IN PHILOSOPHY

  In addition to her studies in history, Alissa enrolled in several philosophy and literature courses surveying the works of Schiller, Shakespeare, and Dostoyevsky. She would recollect for Barbara Branden (1986) a special admiration for Dostoyevsky’s brilliant literary technique: “For a long time, I studied his plots carefully, to see how he integrated his plots to his ideas. I identified, in his work, what kind of events express what kind of theme, and why. He was very valuable for my subconscious integration concerning plot and theme” (45).

  As if sensing a natural spiritual affinity between Dostoyevsky and Nietzsche, Alissa moved on to the works of the famous German philosopher. She had first discovered Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra upon the advice of an older cousin. She was captivated by its exaltation of the heroic, its defense of the individual, and its dismissal of altruism as slave morality.38 But as she read further, Alissa was troubled by Nietzsche’s defense of psychological determinism. In her reading of The Birth of Tragedy, Alissa discovered that Nietzsche had embraced Dionysian, drunken, orgiastic emotionalism over Apollonian reason (B. Branden 1986, 45).

  Certainly, this interpretation of Nietzsche was widespread throughout the Silver Age of Russian philosophy. The Symbolists, among others, celebrated Nietzsche precisely because he exalted a Dionysian cultic loss of self. Alissa would have been exposed to this particular Nietzschean theme in the work of Aleksandr Blok, one of her favorite poets. But she could have also incorporated such interpretations of Nietzsche from the lectures of Faddei Frantsevich Zielinsky, another social science teacher at Petrograd University and one of the greatest classical scholars of the twentieth century.

  Zielinsky taught at the university from 1885 through 1921. Alissa may not have entered the university in time to register in one of his courses, but he had had a huge impact on many other Russian scholars and poets of his generation. Edit
or of the journal Vestnik vsemirnoi istorii (Herald of universal history), Zielinsky was a specialist on ancient Greece. He translated the works of Herodotus and Thucydides into Russian and wrote on Greek and Roman mythology.

  Zielinsky viewed Nietzsche’s philosophy as “the last major contribution of antiquity to contemporary thought.”39 He believed that the resurgence of the Dionysian impulse was a necessary requirement to curb the “highly moralistic influence of Judaism in Christianity.”40 His celebration of the Dionysian was consistent with the views of other Silver Age thinkers who were integrating the works of Nietzsche with a mystical Christian worldview.

  Alissa was probably among the last students at the university to study Nietzsche’s philosophy formally. Lenin’s wife, Nadezhda Krupskaya, began a campaign to remove ideologically dangerous books from the People’s Libraries. Nietzsche’s works were foremost among the banned materials. They were removed from libraries in factories, trade union halls, and universities, and were placed on closed reserve in major research centers along with other “counterrevolutionary” tracts (Rosenthal and Bohachevsky-Chomiak 1990, xiii). In 1923–24, some of Nietzsche’s books were burned by the authorities.41 Apparently, where the Symbolists had recognized a cultic collectivism in Nietzsche’s work, the Soviet regime could see only a preoccupation with the heroic, creative, and the solitary.42

  Alissa’s exposure to formal philosophy was probably limited to a few university courses. But included in nearly every history course she took, there was a significant dose of “intellectual” history. As a philosophy minor, she would have been required to take several courses offered by philosophy department faculty.43

  Petrograd’s philosophy department was dominated by neo-Kantians, including Ivan Ivanovich Lapshin, Sergei Alexeevich Alexeev (who wrote under the name Askoldov), and Aleksandr Ivanovich Vvedensky (B. Lossky 1991, 74–77, 89, 158 n. 116). Lapshin rejected metaphysical speculation, whereas Alexeev criticized the doctrine of dialectical materialism. These two thinkers were greatly influenced by their mentor, Aleksandr Vvedensky. An elderly master who survived the deportations and the purges, Vveden-sky taught from 1890 to 1925. He was a genuine Kantian, offering courses in logic, psychology, and the history of philosophy. As an exceptionally gifted teacher, Vvedensky touched the lives of many thousands of students who attended his lectures and were inspired by his ideas (Lossky 1951, 164). Among his students was N. O. Lossky. Vvedensky advocated a deontological morality, faith in God, the immortality of the soul, and the necessity of free will.

  Yet it does not seem that Alissa had any extensive exposure to the teachings of Kantian philosophers at Petrograd University. Rand never mentioned Kantian philosophy as a subject she studied extensively in college, though she probably had light exposure to Kant’s ideas.44 Despite the presence of all of these world-renowned historians, philosophers, and scholars, Rand never publicly acknowledged the names of any of her teachers—except one. This is not atypical of Rand; in fact, in keeping with her own visions of self-creation, she concedes only a limited literary and philosophical debt to Hugo, Dostoyevsky, and Aristotle.45 The one teacher whose name she mentioned in any context, was Nicholas Onufrievich Lossky.

  LOSSKY AND RAND

  Any investigation of the links between Lossky and Rand is fraught with problems. It is almost impossible to establish with certainty the exact circumstances of their relationship. None of Rand’s early journal writings survived her Russian years. Rand burned her philosophic diaries and fictional outlines long before she came to the United States. She knew that if discovered, such writings would implicate her as an anticommunist (B. Branden 1986, 38). Very little of Rand’s American journals have been made public, and none of the published entries date prior to 1934. In any event, it is unlikely that the unpublished diaries of Rand would include extensive comments, if any, on Lossky.

  The first mention of Lossky occurs in a single paragraph of Barbara Branden’s biographical essay, “Who is Ayn Rand?” This personal recollection is drawn from over forty hours of interviews that Branden conducted with Rand.46 Lossky is the only one of her professors whom Rand mentioned in these interviews. Branden nearly duplicates this Lossky reference from her early essay, in her best-selling, book-length biography, The Passion of Ayn Rand. Because of its historical importance, I quote this passage at length:

  Despite her doubts about the value of formal philosophy, she chose as an elective a course on the history of ancient philosophy. The course was taught by Professor N. O. Losky [sic], a distinguished international authority on Plato. To her surprise, the course turned out to be her favorite. She was profoundly impressed by Aristotle’s definition of the laws of logic, and rejected completely, “the mysticism, and collectivism” of Plato.… Professor Losky [sic] was a stern, exacting man, contemptuous of all students, particularly of women. It was said that he failed most students the first time they took his examination, and that he was especially hard on women. In the spring, his students went to his home for their oral examination; a long line of them stood outside his study, nervously awaiting their turn. Alice had hoped that she would be questioned on Aristotle. But when she entered his study, he questioned her only about Plato. She had studied carefully, and she answered easily and precisely. After a while, although she had not stated any estimate, Professor Losky [sic] said sardonically: “You don’t agree with Plato, do you?” “No, I don’t,” she answered. “Tell me why,” he demanded. She replied, “My philosophical views are not part of the history of philosophy yet. But they will be.” “Give me your examination book,” he ordered. He wrote in the book and handed it back to her. “Next student,” he said. He had written: Perfect.47

  There are only three subtle differences between this passage and the one that appears in “Who is Ayn Rand?” In the earlier biographical essay, Branden tells us that Lossky gave Alissa a “Perfect” grade, out of three possibilities: Perfect, Passing, or Failure. She adds that Lossky believed that female students “had no business in philosophy.” She also spells Lossky’s name correctly.48 None of these distinctions alters the essential intellectual chutzpa that Rand exhibited in her final examination session with the famed professor.

  The authenticity of Rand’s reminiscences has been challenged in some respects by at least four scholars, three of whom are relatives of Lossky. Boris and Andrew, Lossky’s surviving sons, and Nicholas, his grandson, have all objected to the characterization of N. O. Lossky as contemptuous of female philosophy students. They point out that their family has had a history of strong women, including Maria Stoiunina, who established the famous gymnasium for girls and young ladies, attended by Alissa Rosenbaum, and in which Lossky actually taught. One of Lossky’s female students during the Russian period of his life, Natalie Duddington, became a lifelong friend and the English translator of his important works. Andrew recollects that his father demanded a basic competence in the subject matter of his courses from both men and women, making no distinctions between them. His examinations were forthright, neither tricky nor especially difficult. The distinguished philosopher George Kline was a regular auditor of two of Lossky’s courses at St. Vladimir’s Orthodox Theological Seminary. He too vouches for the professor’s fairness and nonsexist attitudes. Kline enjoyed a friendly correspondence with Lossky and recalls that the professor “always treated his students with respect and kindness.” Lossky’s contempt was reserved only for dogmatic, simplistic, Marxist-Leninists who attacked speculative and idealist thought.49

  As an expert in the history of Russian philosophy, Kline has also taken issue with the characterization of Lossky as a scholar of Plato. Lossky knew his Greek philosophy well and would have been more than qualified to teach a course on the ancients. But as a specialist in German philosophy from Kant to Husserl, N. O. Lossky published nearly three hundred works, and not one of them even mentions Plato in the title.

  Some of the interpretive differences regarding Lossky’s attitudes toward female philosophy students can be attributed to subjective
factors. The evidence indicates that Lossky was not unfair to his women students. However, it is impossible to grasp the mental strain under which Lossky lived in the 1921–22 academic year. This may very well have affected his demeanor and otherwise affable personality. Certainly it cannot be discounted that to a sixteen-year-old student, any professor in a bad mood could be the source of great personal consternation. It is also quite possible that as a fiction writer, Rand has merely embellished the story by intensifying the conflict between its major characters.50

  But there is a greater problem of historical authenticity that requires some elucidation.

  In 1920–21, Lossky was at the top of his profession. He had already published a number of significant philosophical treatises, and continued to lecture at the university, and at the Stoiunin Gymnasium. He succeeded in earning a few extra black bread rations by teaching an “Introduction to Philosophy” course in the National University, a school of adult education, in the Shlissel’burg district of Petrograd.51 He gave lectures on the subject of God in the system of organic philosophy to the Free Philosophical Association.

  Lossky’s courses at the university were in the grand intuitivist tradition of philosophy he spearheaded. In 1916, he taught on Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel and on Leibniz. In 1917, he offered classes on the theory of judgments, and an introduction to philosophy. In 1918–19, he lectured on the problems of free will, the problem of the trans-subjectivity of sensory qualities, logic, contemporary epistemology, and an introduction to metaphysics. In 1919–20, Lossky again offered his course on Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, followed in 1920–21 by a seminar on materialism, hylozoism, and vitalism from an antimaterialist perspective.52 None of his listed university courses dealt specifically with Plato, Aristotle, or the ancient philosophers.

  More important, something happened in the summer of 1921 that would alter Lossky’s life forever, ending his illustrious career at the university and ultimately leading to his exile from the Soviet Union. In Moscow, a meeting of the State Scientific Council was called to discuss the future of university professors. The regime was becoming increasingly suspicious of those non-Marxist professors and intellectuals who had continued to oppose the Revolution. M. N. Pokrovsky chaired the meeting. The Council removed many of Petrograd’s privatdocents. Professor Lapshin was also barred from teaching. Only Aleksandr Vvedensky was allowed to remain.

 

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