Professional Documents
Culture Documents
nl/ruhi
James West
Middlebury College
Abstract
The publication of the Vekhi (“Signposts”) symposium in Moscow in 1909 was the literary event
of the decade in Pre-Revolutionary Russia. Its critique of the radical collectivist traditions of the
Russian intelligentsia in the name of “the primacy of spiritual life” was greeted with howls of
condemnation from nearly every ideological camp. Contemporaries interpreted this appeal as
turn away from the political struggle with autocracy toward mysticism and obscurantism.
Historians have more charitably seen Vekhi as a way station in the ideological pilgrimage of its
principal participants, Peter Struve, Nicholas Berdiaev, Sergei Bulgakov and Semion Frank, from
Marxism through Liberalism toward more contemplative and ethereal realms of Idealist philoso-
phy, Orthodox theology and imperialist nationalism. Both of these interpretative streams per-
petuate the impression that Vekhi represented a drift from the practical to the spiritual, and that
its message went, either deservedly or tragically, unheard and unheeded.
It is argued here that Vekhi’s philosophical discourse contained within it some very concrete
social and economic prescriptions, and that its message in fact fell on at least some receptive
ears. Vehki found an attentive audience among a small group of liberal industialists in Moscow,
led by Pavel Riabushinskii. It served as a catalyst for the creation of an entrepreneurial group
known as the Riabushinskii Circle, and opened the way for a remarkable collaboration between
intellectuals and entrepreneurs that lasted until the Bolshevik Revolution, and culminated in
Riabushinskii’s “Utopian Capitalist” vision for Russia.
Keywords
Vekhi (Signposts); Neo-Kantianism; Old Belief; Progressivism; Utopian Capitalism
1)
Vekhi’s criticism was directed against the many patterns of radical utopian thought which
had dominated the Russian thinking elites since the days of Herzen and Belinskii in the 1830s.
By the time of Vekhi, these revolutionary and collectivist visions, which included Nihilism,
Populism and Marxism, had become so sacrosanct to many educated Russians that no criticism
of these pioneers and martyrs of Russian secular thought could be tolerated. This ideological
sensibility explains the extremely negative reaction from virtually all factions of the Liberal and
Revolutionary movements that greeted Vekhi’s appearance.
2)
On the history of the Riabushinskii family, see: Yuri Petrov, Dinastiia Riabushinskikh (Moscow:
Russkaia kniga, 1997).
the domination of the tsarist state over the economy, these positions taken
together placed the so-called “young”3 industrialists around Riabushinskii in
the liberal avant-garde of the Moscow merchantry during the turbulent days
of 1905.4
What these people possessed in abundance were their own entrepreneurial
skills, a religiously-grounded sense of injustice, and personal energy. But what
they lacked was practical political experience, intellectual sophistication, and
an appropriate language with which to express their forward-looking aspira-
tions. The publication of Vekhi would open a door of opportunity to the
industrialists on all these counts.
Under Russian conditions, it was unlikely that industrialists would ever
have much to do with intellectuals such as the vekhotsy. The old soslovie (estate)
mentality, with its social taboos and segregations, still persisted even as new
professional groupings emerged from under the archaic estate system.
Moreover, Russian merchants were traditionally held in low esteem by all
other social strata, from the peasantry through the nobility. The kupets, with
his legendary avarice, his dubious business practices and his self-regarding
behavior, was universally spurned in a culture which placed emphasis on
agrarian values and communal identities. This deep-seated anti-bourgeois
prejudice was not dispelled by the appearance of modern entrepreneurs who
bore little resemblance to the bearded merchants of the past. It was especially
strong among the intelligentsia, whose denunciations of “bourgeois” attitudes
and behaviors were legion, from Herzen and Chernyshevskii through the
Populists, Marxists and Liberals.5
The entrepreneurs around Riabushinskii had encountered this prejudice
in emphatic ways during and after the crisis of 1905. No sooner had they
made their political debut in the spring of that year than they met resistance
from the liberal intellectuals with whom they had hoped to collaborate. The
leadership of the Kadet Party made it clear from the outset that it would toler-
ate no “class” (read: “bourgeois”) interests within its ranks. Rebuffed by the
3)
The moniker “young” was a contemporary reference not only to the generational identity of
the new industrialists, but also their political radicalism, comparable to that of the “Young
Turks” in the Ottoman Empire at the same time.
4)
On the political activities of the Riabushinskii Circle, see: James L. West, “The Rjabushinskij
Circle: Industrialists in Search of a Bourgeoisie,” Jahrbücher für Geschichte Ost Europas, Heft 3
(1984): 358-377.
5)
For the history of the kupechestvo and its relations with other social groups, see: Alfred Rieber,
Merchants and Entrepreneurs in Imperial Russia (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press,
1982).
mainstream liberals, the “young” group drifted in and out of a series of mar-
ginal and largely unsuccessful political parties, such as the Moderate-
Progressive Party and the Party of Peaceful Reconstruction. When the majority
of merchants, frightened by the militancy and violence of their workers, either
dropped out of politics altogether or made their peace with authority and
joined the pro-government Octobrist Union, the “young” industrialists
remained aloof, seeing Octobrism as collaboration with the ancien regime they
detested. Their early attempts at liberal journalism, such as the newspapers
Utro, Narodnaia Gazeta and the first Utro Rossii, all soon succumbed to the
pressures of resurgent censorship. In the years after 1905, then, the “young”
industrialists found themselves adrift, with neither a political voice nor a con-
ceptual vehicle for their liberal-capitalist aspirations.
In the very different world of the intelligentsia, the future Vekhi authors
underwent a similar collapse of illusions in 1905, and in the years follow-
ing experienced an analogous isolation from the liberal movement that
they themselves had pioneered. As intellectuals, however, they were signifi-
cantly more perceptive and articulate in expressing their discontent than
the untutored industrialists. Like the Riabushinskii group, they too were in
transition, but with a much clearer sense of where they were going. Having
begun their intellectual careers as Marxists, Peter Struve, Nicholas Berdiaev,
Sergei Bulgakov and Simeon Frank had migrated toward liberal politics in
the Liberation Movement, and had been active in organizing the Kadet
Party in 1905. But the radicalism of the intellectuals, the violence of the
workers and peasants, and the resurgence of reaction in the wake of the revolu-
tion drove them to despair. Yet as serious thinkers, they were able to craft a
philosophically-grounded explanation of what had happened and what
needed to be done about it. From Marx, they moved to Kant. As Berdiaev
observed: “the Neo-Kantian… spirit became a weapon of liberation from
Marxism and positivism… and served as a bridge to higher forms of philo-
sophical awareness.”6 In Vekhi, this Neo-Kantian resonance was still very
strong.7
6)
Vekhi: Sbornik statei o russkoi intelligentsia (2nd edition, Moscow: Izdatel’stvo V.M. Savlin,
1909) 14. Reprinted by Izdatel’stvo “Posev,” Frankfurt, 1967.
7)
Idealism remained a powerful stream of thought among the non-Marxist intelligentsia. It was
still the predominant outlook among the scholars and intellectuals whom Lenin ordered
deported on the infamous “philosophers steamships” in 1922. See: Lesley Chamberlain, Lenin’s
Private War: The Voyage of the Philosophy Steamer and the Exile of the Intelligentsia (New York: St
Martin’s Press, 2006).
8)
“Neo-Kantian” is the term generally applied to the revival of Kantian thought in the late
nineteenth century. The “back to Kant” movement emerged in Germany, and later in Russia, as
a reaction to the predominance of materialist and positivist currents that came to dominate
philosophical and political discourse in Europe after 1848.
9)
See: Problems of Idealism, Randall A. Poole, ed. and trans. (New Haven: Yale University Press,
2003).
10)
Semion Frank, “Ocherki filosofii kultury,” pt.I, Poliarnaia Zvezda, Dec. 22, 1905, 110.
11)
Nicholas Berdiaev, “Socialism as Religion,” in: Bernice Rosenthal, A Revolution of the Spirit,
(Newtonville Mass: Oriental Research Partners, 1982), 120.
12)
Peter Struve, “Intelligentsia i revolutsiia,” in: Vekhi., Ibid., 170.
13)
Immanuel Kant, Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten. Berdiaev used this quotation as an
epigram for his article in Problemy idealizma. See: Nicholas Berdiaev, “The Ethical Problem in
Light of Philosophical Idealism,” in: Problems of Idealism, 161.
14)
Mikhail Gershenzon, “Preface to the First Edition,” in: Landmarks: A Collection of Essays
on the Russian Intelligentsia, Boris Shragin & Albert Todd, eds (New York: Karz Howard,
1977), 1.
15)
Peter Struve, “Intelligentsia i revolutsiia,” Vekhi, 162.
16)
Simeon Frank, “Etika nigilizma,” Vekhi, 186.
17)
Berdiaev, “Socialism as Religion,” Vekhi, 136.
noted, “in the consciousness and emotions of the Russian intelligentsia, the
interests of distribution and equalization have always prevailed over those of
production and creation.”19 Frank echoed him, asserting that the intelligent-
sia, with its socialistic obsessions, “does not love wealth,” and it also despised
those who possessed wealth, believing “that all rich people are evil, all poor
people are nice and good.”20 Thus the intellectual elites incited the narod to
seize the possessions of the wealthy, as had happened in 1905, with predictable
anarchistical results which threatened to destroy all wealth, and all Culture
along with it.
In its denunciation of wealth, the intelligentsia also undervalued the
labor necessary to create it. In Bulgakov’s view, possessed as it was by its
“anti-bourgeois feeling,” the intelligentsia evinced “an aura of otherworld-
liness,” a strange form of secular, atheistic “religiosity,” “a propensity for
daydreaming, a sometimes starry-eyed idealism, utopianism and an underde-
veloped sense of reality in general.” These attitudes left the intellectual elites
bereft of “the habit of sustained, disciplined labor and a measured way of
life.”21
The solution to this impasse lay not in politics or political struggle, but also
not necessarily in any retreat into spirituality. It lay in what Berdiaev called
“concrete idealism, linked with a realistic attitude toward existence,”22 which
might facilitate the application of Kantian-inspired insights to practical prob-
lems. While Berdiaev, perhaps the most other-worldly of the vekhovtsy, spun
his idealism in spiritual directions, others of his collaborators believed that
individuality could only be achieved by the acquisition of habits and values
learned in the process of cultural and material wealth-creation. Struve enu-
merated these values throughout his work: “persistent self-discipline,” “sus-
tained, disciplined labor,” “personal responsibility” were recurrent themes in
his writings.23 Only if these habits and values could be inculcated – and the
field of action for this could only be the individual – could the cycle of destitu-
tion, oppression and violence be broken, for as Frank declared: “apart from
national wealth, popular welfare is inconceivable.” He concluded that, “it is
18)
Frank, “Etika nigilizma,” Vekhi, 201.
19)
Berdiaev, “Filosofskaia istina i intelligentskaia pravda,” Vekhi, 3.
20)
Frank, “Etika nigilizma,” Vekhi, 203.
21)
Bulgakov, “Geroizm i podvizhnichectvo,” Vekhi, 28-30.
22)
Berdiaev, “Filosofskaia istina,” Vekhi, 18.
23)
See, for example: Vekhi, 171.
time to move beyond distribution and the struggle for it to cultural creation,
the production of wealth.”24
The Vekhi authors all agreed that the intelligentsia, still wedded to its uto-
pian extremism, was incapable of making this transition. Like Russia itself, it
was caught between two worlds, with old forms breaking down but new ones
not yet clearly in sight. While on the one hand, Frank observed, “we are wit-
nessing the disintegration of the traditional intelligentsia spirit,” on the other
hand, “new ideas and ideals are taking shape too weakly and obscurely.”25 The
intelligentsia was the problem, and Frank warned that the solution would
require that “the intelligentsia would cease to be an ‘intelligentsia’ in the old
Russian sense of the word.”26 Struve, too, strongly implied that the intelligent-
sia itself was an anachronistic by-product of a transitional stage of social devel-
opment, suspended between a traditional soslovie order and new class system.
What was needed, he provocatively asserted, was the “embourgeoisement”
(oburzhuazitsia) of the intelligentsia. The emergence of modern professional
groupings in Russia was an early harbinger of the evolution of a modern class
structure, into which the old intelligenty would be absorbed: “[the intelligent-
sia will] spontaneously enter into the existing social structure, dispersing itself
among the various classes of society,”27 each of which would produce its own
thinking elites now anchored to the real world by their modern professional
and technical expertise.
Who, then, would supplant the old intelligentsia to lead Russia in its trans-
formation? Vekhi’s explicit call was for new elites of a new mentality. Bulgakov
declared: “Russia needs new agents in all fields of life,”28 people dedicated to
the creation of spiritual and material wealth, “an educated class with a Russian
soul”29 that could rescue the nation from its material and spiritual poverty.
Everything depended on this. If this dynamic new element failed to emerge,
then Bulgakov warned, “the intelligentsia, in connection with the Tartar bar-
barism which is still so prevalent in our state and social systems, will ruin
Russia.”30
24)
Frank, “Etika nigilizma,” Vekhi, 200.
25)
Ibid., 208.
26)
Ibid., 210.
27)
Struve, “Intelligentsia i revolutsiia,” Vekhi, 173.
28)
Bulgakov, “Filosofskaia istina,” Vekhi, 59.
29)
Ibid., 26.
30)
Ibid.
31)
An educated Russian in 1909 would have to have been in Siberian exile not to know of Vekhi,
so it is a reasonable assumption that the industrialists in fact read it. Vekhi and its controversy
was referred to often in the pages of Riabushinskii’s revived Utro Rossii. See for example: Utro
Rossii, Oct. 13, 1911, 1.
32)
On the Economic Discussions, see: West, “The Rjabushinskji Circle”.; Petrov, Dinastiia
Riabushinskikh., 83 ff.
associated himself closely with the Riabushinskiis, most notably by his partici-
pation in Vladimir Riabushinskii’s nationalist symposium Velikaia Rossiia in
1910. It was in these publications that the Young Group’s Vekhi-inspired ide-
ology of industrial liberalism took shape and was elaborated.
Yet the vekhovtsy, like the intelligentsia they criticized, were deeply ambiva-
lent about the onset of industrial capitalism. It was clear to all of them that in
its early phases, industrialization had been a costly experiment for Russia.
As 1905 had demonstrated, industrial development had rent the fabric of
Russian society and culture, had at least in its early years actually increased the
poverty and misery of the people. What’s more, it had thrust the autocracy
into a revolutionary crisis, threatening the destruction of all authority by peas-
ant anarchy and worker violence. But while the Vekhi authors were not in
complete agreement about the future course Russia should follow, they were
not at heart obscurantists or anti-modernists. They all embraced the modern
liberal values of personal freedom, the rule of law, and sanctity of the indi-
vidual, and concurred in the view that Russia must move forward, not back-
ward or sideways. And while they held divergent views on the ideal form of
social organization – Berdiaev eventually advocated a form of Christian
Anarchism, Bulgakov embraced the idea of a Christian Socialism, and Struve
placed his hopes in a renewed great-power nationalism – it was clear at least to
Bulgakov, that for the foreseeable future “[there is] much to learn about the
technology of life and labor from Western man.”33
But capitalism in Russia, they all insisted, could not be a mere transposition
into the East of the competitive and materialist patterns of the West. It would
have to conform itself to indigenous values and mores. Its “new agents” would
have to possess Russian values. And true to their Neo-Kantian convictions, the
Vekhi authors insisted that capitalism subordinate itself to higher noumenal
ends.
33)
Ibid., 28.
34)
Utro Rossii, April 4, 1910, 1.
35)
Utro Rossii, May 18, 1912, 1.
36)
Utro Rossii, Jan. 1, 1912, 1.
national traits” for they rose from “the bubbling sea of the people” “by means
of personal energy and personal efforts” to create new wealth and new national
values.37 Drawing on his own Old-Believer roots and those of many of his
workers in the textile industry, he posited a vision of a renewed national faith
charged with the values of a long-vanished ancient Rus’. The people of the
schism cultivated the traits of “love of work, sobriety and personal integrity,”
and had evolved their subculture within local communes practicing ancient
democratic values an of Old Rus’ before the tsars.38 If the still-living Old
Believer culture became the model for a future indigenous capitalism,
Riabushinskii argued, Russia would have no need to learn the skills of self-rule
and wealth-creation from foreigners. It had only to rediscover its own primor-
dial identity.
Finally, Riabushinskii’s argued that an indigenous spirit of capitalism would
enrich and empower a resurgent Russian State. It was on this point that Struve,
the most important Vekhi figure for the industrialists, contributed yet another
justification for entrepreneurial capitalism as the creative engine of state
power. In Vekhi and elsewhere, Struve posited the State as a noumenal entity
that existed for itself, above the petty arena of party politics, and above the
government itself. The State, he argued, was a “mystical organism” whose vis-
ible phenomenal manifestation was its “military power.” It demanded of its
people “recognition of the ideal of state power on the basis of disciplined
labor.”39 With the material and spiritual renaissance of the Russian people,
they would come to understand the mystical nature of the State above them.
Russia would transcend the old tsarist regime to build a new, free, capitalist
Russia which he called, borrowing from Stolypin, Velikaia Rossiia. (Great
Russia)40
The industrialists took up this nationalist theme with alacrity. In 1910
Vladimir Riabushinskii published a two-volume symposium in 1910 by the
same title, which featured a leading article by Struve, entitled “The Economic
Problem of Velikaia Rossiia.” Here Struve lauded entrepreneurial capitalism as
the only economic system which could assure the survival of the Russian State
in the face of German militarism. Here he made a connection which would
seem self-evident, but which in Russia, dominated as it was by agrarian biases,
37)
Utro Rossii, May 5, 1911, 1; Jan. 1, 1910, 1; Jan. 16, 1909, 1.
38)
Tserkov, Oct. 19, 1914, 1.
39)
Struve, “Otryvki o gosudarstve,” in: Patriotica: sbornik statei za piat’ let (St. Petersburg:
Izdanie D. E. Zhukovskovo, 1911), 98.
40)
Struve, “Velikaia Rossiia,” Russkaia Mysl’, No. 1, 1908.
41)
Struve, “Ekonomichekaia problema ‘Velikoi Rossii’” in: Vladimir Riabushinskii (ed.),
Velikaia Rossiia: Sbornik statei po voennym i obshchestvennym voprosam (Moscow: 1910), 144.
42)
Ibid., 152.
43)
Utro Rossii, Jan 1, 1912, 1.
44)
Berdiaev, “Socialism as Religion,” Ibid., 126.
45)
Ibid, 129.
46)
Ibid.,126.
47)
Ibid, 133-34.
48)
See: Utro Rossii, Jan. 5, 1910, 1; and Jan. 23, 1910, 1.
49)
Frank, “Kapitalizm i kul’tura,” Moskovskii Ezhenedel’nik, April 17, 1910, 42.
50)
Ibid.
51)
Bulgakov, “Narodnoe khoziastvo religioznaia lichnost’,” Moskovskii ezhnedel’nik, June 20,
1909., 32.
52)
Ibid., 30.
lamented, then not only would Culture decline in Russia, it would stand in
danger of being extinguished altogether through “the economic conquest of
Russia by foreigners.”53 In the wake of Vekhi, he expended considerable efforts
trying to work out the elements of an “Orthodox work ethic,” one that might
encompass the entrepreneurial culture of the Old Believers, whose history he
had begun to study.54 Thus Frank was undertaking a scholarly study of the
central historical experience of religious persecution and perseverance that
undergirded Riabushinskii’s imagined new entrepreneurial identity.
It was Struve, the trained economist, however, who most closely associated
himself with the industrialists, and who put forward the clearest arguments in
defense of industrial capitalism. While he disagreed with his Vekhi collabora-
tors over their injection of faith and spirituality into politics and economics,
he nonetheless shared their Idealist outlook, and like them, he couched his
support for capitalist entrepreneurship in terms of its contribution to Culture.
The socialistic worldviews of the intelligentsia, he argued, by exalting collec-
tivist solutions and “irresponsible equality,” devalued individuality, and thus
nurtured an attitude of “personal irresponsibility.”55 Thus the intelligenty could
never understand or appreciate “the meaning and significance of industrial
capitalism,” which fosters an entirely different set of human traits: “personal
efficiency,” “self-control,” “conscientiousness,” in a word, the “idea of the free
and unique personality.”56 They could not see in its advent “the triumph of a
more productive system,” whose entrepreneurial impulses did not constitute
“theft,” but rather “the creation of the foundations of Culture.”57 Russia’s edu-
cated elites, he argued, must come to understand that entrepreneurship was
not in its essence self-regarding and acquisitive, but rather constituted “a form
of national service,” the only possible way to assure the welfare of the narod.
Similarly, Russian entrepreneurs, the “creators of material wealth,” would also
have to come to see their efforts not as “representatives of group or class inter-
ests,” but as “service” to the people, having “creative significance for the entire
society.”58 If this transformation could be achieved, then capitalism in Russia
53)
Ibid., 32.
54)
See: Bernice Rosenthal, “The Search for an Orthodox Work Ethic,” in: Between Tsar and
People, Samuel Kassow, Edith Clowes & James L. West, eds. (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1991), 56-74.
55)
Struve, “Intelligentsiia i narodnoe khoziastvo,” Russkoe mysl’, Dec. 1908, 363.
56)
Ibid.
57)
Ibid., 364.
58)
Ibid., 367.
would become a great multiplier of the people’s wealth, and the guarantor
of the survival of the Russian State and Russian Culture in the Age of
Imperialism.
Taken together, the Vekhi authors, despite their misgivings, generally
accepted the advent of capitalism and its entrepreneurs as agents of both mate-
rial and spiritual progress. For the first time in Russian history, representatives
of the thinking elite embraced the values of entrepreneurship and private ini-
tiative. But with this approval came a challenge as well: that the entrepreneurs
would subordinate their profit-seeking and acquisitive tendencies to a higher
ideal, that of service to the people and the nation. Russian capitalism, if it were
to be legitimate, would have to justify itself in terms of indigenous ethical and
spiritual criteria.
The trajectories of the vekhovtsy and their industrialist protegés crossed after
1909, but they were ultimately headed in different directions. Whereas Struve
and his associates grew increasingly disillusioned with Duma politics, the as
yet unchastened Riabushinskii group were spoiling for a political fight.
Emboldened by their acquisition of a coherent outlook and program,
Riabushinskii and his associates entered the political fray in the Duma elec-
tions of 1912. They formed the core group of a new political coalition called
the Progressist Party. Having experiencing moderate success in the Duma elec-
tions of 1912, the Progressists emerged as the most aggressive force among the
liberal parties in the Fourth Duma, chastising the collaborationist Octobrists
for their timidity, and often outflanking the liberal Kadets on the left in con-
frontations with tsarist officials. As the Octobrists disintegrated in the wake of
Prime Minister Stolypin’s assassination in 1911, and schism between right and
left wings threatened the Kadets, rumors spread that Struve would finally
abandon his Kadet affiliations and ally with Riabushinskii’s people to form a
new National-Liberal association, though this happened in the pre-war period.
Within the Duma, the Progressists challenged the government on every
front. As tsarist ministers increasingly ignored the Duma, and clogged it with
“legislative vermicelli” of meaningless motions, the Progressists showed their
radical pedrigree. By 1914, as the struggle with the regime ground on in the
Duma, Riabushinskii and Konovalov began talking privately of a “super-
organic solution” to the political impasse, and were making secret overtures to
the Mensheviks, the SRs, and even the Bolsheviks to bring the mass pressure
of the workers against the regime to foment “the next 1905” for which the
“bourgeoisie” would be ready as it had not been in the “first” 1905.59
These conspiratorial machinations came to naught, however, as the out-
break of war supervened. The Progressists and their Vekhi allies bore a share of
the blame for bringing about the crisis that ultimately destroyed the Old
Regime along with its liberal opponents. Throughout its history, Utro Rossii
assumed an aggressively nationalist stance, berating the government repeat-
edly for not standing up to the Germans. Struve’s imperialist vision, which
demanded Russian control of the Bosporus, and Berdiaev’s visceral aversion to
“the Teutons,” defined an aggressive position that urged the government
toward confrontation with Germany and Austria at every turn. When war
finally came, Utro Rossii was naively exultant.
The military inepitude of the tsarist regime, about which Utro Rossii had
long complained, soon provided a broader field of maneuver for the Progressists
than had the restrictive politics of peacetime. As the situation at the front
worsened in 1915, the coalition-building impulses of the Riabushinskii Circle
at last found realization in the organization of the War Industries Committees.60
Finally, in the same year, the Progressists’ long-sought goal of a broad liberal-
oppositional coalition was finally realized. Konovalov and the Progressists
became the key players in the Progressive Bloc, a broad alliance of the liberal
and left Duma parties which secretly organized a shadow government ready to
take power from the tsarist regime discredited by its military incompetence.
Even here, at this late date, the Progressists continued to be the most radical
of the liberal Duma parties, repeatedly urging confrontation with the belea-
guered and increasingly incompetent tsarist regime.61
Once again, however, these initiatives were cut short by momentous events
as the tsarist regime collapsed in February 1917. After the fall of “the hated
Old Regime,” Progressivisim faded as a coherent movement. Konovalov and
Riabushinskii both served in various individual capacities in the Provisional
Government and its institutions, but the increasingly desperate efforts at
coalition-building passed to others further to the left of the industrialists.
59)
On the so-called “Information Committee” conspiracy, see: Istoricheskii Arkhiv, No. 6,
(1958), and No. 2, (1959).
60)
On the War Industries Committees, see: Lewis H. Siegelbaum, The Politics of Industrial
Mobilization in Russia, 1914-1917: A Study of the War Industries Committees (New York:
St. Martin’s Press, 1983).
61)
On the Progressive Bloc, see: Michael F. Hamm, “Liberal Politics in Wartime Russia:
An Analysis of the Progressive Bloc, Slavic Review 33 No. 3 (Sept. 1974): 453-468.
Conclusion
If the industrialists’ agenda had been aggressively political and social, the main
thrust of Vekhi had been toward philosophical and spiritual concerns. Yet the
two ideational streams were not incompatible, and in the last years of the tsa-
rist regime, they blended in the discourse of the Riabushinskii Circle.
In the end, of course, little of this mattered. While this singular instance of
collaboration between intellectuals and entrepreneurs may have been a har-
binger of potential cohesion within Russia’s “unrealized middle class,” it
remained an isolated case within an otherwise fractured and fragmented civil
society struggling to emerge. Thus the hopes shared by Riabushinskii and
some of the vekhovtsy for an open and capitalist Velikaia Rossiia free of both
the tsarist regime and the revolutionary intelligentsia never came to pass.
Riabushinskii’s visionary evocation of the “Russian bourgeoisie” untimately
found little resonance among the frightened and intimidated merchants and
manufacturers. For this reason, Riabushinskii “Bourgeois Idea” might well be
called “Utopian Capitalism,” for in the Russia of his day there was literally “no
place” where it could be realized. Thus the self-styled “men of practical experi-
ence” had no more influence over the future course of Russian history than
did the philosophers and theologians of Vekhi.
Yet amid all the mutually annihilating binaries of Russian culture, Vekhi
and the industrialists did manage to meet for a moment in a unique discursive
space, where an alternative path of national development could at least be
imagined. There, Idealist philosophy, liberal nationalism, modern entrepre-
neurship and ancient spirituality combined to shape a fleeting eleventh-hour
vision of an indigenously modern and democratic Russia.