The Time of Troubles was definitive for Russia. More so than the Mongol yoke. It defined Russian politics for the rest of her Tsarist history, and is central to her cultural development. In this lecture I cannot hope to do anything more than probe the parameters of these earth shattering events. For a detailed account, I recommended (and I rarely recommend work from mainline writers), Russia’s First Civil War, by Chester Dunning. Nevertheless, we will attempt to drag out some of the more significant aspects of this civil war, aspects that will define Russian politics for many later generations.
There are a few constants in medieval Russian history. The strength and popularity of the Orthodox faith, especially in her monastic guises is one. The communal organization of agriculture, and, unfortunately, the rapacity of the clans is another. It almost seems that historians must either side with monarchy or oligarchy when dealing with Russia, and of course, exclusively side with oligarchy, then and now. The Time of Troubles settled the issue not merely for Russian history, but for the sense of Russian self-identification, in favor of monarchy, order and stability, and a vehement rejection of oligarchy, whose affects can be seen to this day.
The Shuskii clan, represented primarily by Basil, was instrumental in both supporting the False Dimitri as well as eventually deposing him once his usefulness was exhausted. “Dimitri’s” personal bodyguard was anti-Russian, and lorded it over the Moscow locals, including elite locals. He refused to observe Orthodox holidays. The palace guard was taken from Poland or points west. He eventually alienated those whose support he tried to win. Dunning makes it crystal clear that, had he not blundered in the all important cultural sphere, he may have become a just ruler. Corrupted by his Polish sponsors, his mother and wife, Dimitri now is merely a synonym for liar, apostate and deceiver.
Basil Shuskii, in likely the only truly popular thing he ever did, raised a private army and captured the palace, dispersed the guard, and executed Dimitri unceremoniously. Following this momentum, he get himself elected Tsar by an assembly that he himself created and invited to Moscow. In hindsight, Boris’ assembly was far more representative than Shuskii’s, and that which elected Michael more representative still. It remains for the historian, incidentally, to deal with the significance of the fact that three rulers of Russia, Boris, Basil and Michael were elected to their offices. Later, the same occurs with Anna of Courland. Election to the position of chief executive was a common, but not the sole, means of achieving power in Russia.
The historical establishment usually falters around this area of Russian history, and, true to form, usually ignores the issue, or barring that, distorts the picture beyond recognition. Constitutionalism, then and now, is a cover for oligarchical rule. Constitutionalism and republicanism, from Venice to Milan to Novgorod to Boston, is a means where by landed or otherwise powerful/wealthy elites divide up the spoils of power among themselves in hopes of minimizing conflict of at least channeling conflict into constructive channels. Constitutionalism was never meant to be representative in the popular sense of the word, but rather was a system whereby elites shared power, and those elites were able to increase their power at the expense of the common population. In north Italy, only the wealthy sat in the legislature. This was the case in Milan and Florence, and was enshrined by law in Venice. In England, the Puritan gentry/merchant classes dominated the House of Commons. At Novgorod, before the populist revolution and invasion of Ivan III, the wealthy merchants only had a voice in the legislature. The creation of the French Revolutionary institutions was the work of the upper middle/professional classes. In the U.S., only landowners had a voice in the legislature up until the 20th century, and today, only wealthy and media-savvy politicians have a voice. Under Boris Yeltsin, the wealth of Russia was removed into the pockets of a handful of non-Russian oligarchs and spirited abroad, all under the sanction of international institutions.
Of course, at the time of Shuiskii, things were no different. Shuiskii promised to rule with a constitution, which was another way of saying that he was not going to use his executive power to despoil the Mystislavskii’s, Belskii’s or Romanovs. The population of Russia, especially Moscow, however, realized that “constitution” was a foreign word (in etymology and in ideology) that was the same thing as “rich guy’s rule.” They distrusted Shuiskii and certainly his talk of “constitutionalism.” Eventually, it takes the Bolontinikov Rebellion, and later, the Razin Uprising to finally convince the upper boyarin that they were hated.
Russians by the time Shuiskii takes power (in what amounts to a coup), Russians, like in the 1990s, were highly demoralized. Demoralization, however, as modern psychology will explain to us, is a state of vulnerability and suggestibility. Demoralization is a central aspect of modern rule. In modern democratic systems, one’s opponents should not merely be defeated, but humiliated and verbally assaulted. White southerners are not merely “wrong,” but “inbred hicks.” Monarchists are not merely incorrect, but “fascists.” Being Anti-Zionist means one “hates Jews.” These are officially promulgated stereotypes. Demoralization and humiliation are central means of social control.
At the time of Basil Shuiskii (why had styled himself “Emperor of all the Russians” and “Basil IV”), this demoralization, while not yet a form of institutionalized control, manifested itself in social desperation. In Russian life, the Cossacks, robber gangs, insurgent peasants and lower boyar families who saw the real possibility of losing everything to the Shuiskiishina, began to coalesce into a rebellious coalition. This coalition found its symbol in yet another False Dimitri, and its military leader in Bolontnikov.
As far as Russian rebellions go, Bolontnikov gets short shrift. There is no mystery here. Shuiskii, the hero of the historical establishment, cannot have a populist rebellion forming against him. In the major survey histories of Russia, there is often no mention of this rebellion, due to ideological conflict of interest, or at the least, he receives a sentence or two.
The new Dimitri shows up from out of nowhere. Unlike Otripiev, little is known about this Dimitri. Few really care at the time, and are interested only in the sense that he can be used to further the grievances of central areas of the population. Now, Tartar tribes are getting into the act, and Shuiskii begins to panic.
Shuiskii has no obvious military ability, but Skopin, his nephew (some say he was his cousin) does, and he is placed in charge of the military organization against the Cossack led rebellion. Skopin-Shuiskii himself was educated under Boris, and maintained a certain degree of trust among the common population of Moscow. Bolotnikov himself is a target for speculation. As a former serf, he was captured by Islamic forces, but escaped back to Russia via Italy and Poland. Apparently, his personality was powerful, for his forces grew quickly, but it is clear that the heart of his movement was in the person of “Dimitri.” The ideology of the rebellion was one of populist nationalism. The same will be seen in Razin during the time of Alexis, and that of Pugachev under Catherine. The former used aspects of Old Believer agitation, while that under Catherine had the beginnings of anti-industrialism to deal with. But other than that, these rebellions were, ideologically speaking, identical.
Many scholars have equated “populist nationalism” with “fascism” or some other such vulgar label, and therefore have trouble conceptually dealing with the content of these movements. The ideology of all of these are clear, but the main scholars in these areas refuse to deal with them in any systematic way. Here are the main aspects of his “ruralist” platform:
Firstly, the creation of a popular monarchy. This means a monarchy that maintains itself as the head of the church and the head of the army. They advocate a monarchy not involved with the lifestyle of the rural folk, and whose taxes go solely for self defense. They were all monarchists (at least in that they were anti-oligarch, and therefore anti-“constitutional”), but monarchists that I have called elsewhere as “sacerdotal.”
Secondly, the wanted an end to serfdom and the rule of the commune to be absolute. It did not take a genius to figure that if the boyarin were bureaucrats, and bureaucrats were not paid, then they, as peasants, were the salary (or at least created the salary) of the boyarin. Therefore, all is connected, and their ideology is surprisingly coherent. One must remember that, when dealing with books written by professional academics, that their environment is highly secretive, bureaucratic and hierarchic. Therefore, they have conceptual, professional and personal difficulty in dealing with rebellions against what amounts to their own lifestyle. To think that these factors are irrelevant to their scholarship is to be highly naive.
Thirdly, they wanted the expulsion of all foreigners. They equated, with some justification, the foreign influence in Russia (encouraged by Boris, and then later by Alexis, Peter and Catherine) with the “new” monarchy, which was not sacerdotal, but bureaucratic, expensive and invasive. They equated, again with justification, “European” with centralized and bureaucratic structures, and “Russian” with “communal nationalism.” And while they often could not articulate it in these terms, their flyers and proclamations all point in this direction.
Fourthly, in the case of Razin, they demanded a return to the Old Belief, and in the case of Pugachev, the limitation of industrialization. But, though this last rebellion is outside the scope of this course, these particular views are incomprehensible without the above. In other words, the Old Belief and anti-industrialism are directly traceable to the above ideas. Therefore, not only do these rebellions remain coherent at any given time, they are coherent even over the generations. Shuiskii, needless to say was distrusted and unpopular. Like all oligarchs of whatever nationality, politics is identical with self-gratification and ego-stroking. Sometimes these ideas are vulgarized in modernity as “representation.” Nevertheless, there were several reasons for Shuiskii’s failure against the rebels during the early phase of the uprising(s) in 1606.
Shuiskii did not trust his nephew. While Skopin achieved some initial victories, many of the infantry did not recognize Shuiskii, and the boyar-chief himself did not trust his nephew. He did not trust him for the same reason the Novgorodian oligarchy did not trust their protectors; because military success means popularity and therefore power; oligarchy is distrustful as a matter of course. In Florence, the head of the military needed (constitutionally) to be a foreigner. The identical notion was in place at Novgorod. Is this a coincidence? Or is this part of the nature of oligarchy/republicanism?
Therefore, in their long term irrationality, both Shuiskii and the Novgorod oligarchy he admired rejected precisely those men whose military prowess could have saved the day. Harry Truman’s bout with insecurity over Gen. Douglas MacArthur is a gleaming modern day example of this same phenomenon. This sort of policy only led to further demoralization, and Shuiskii’s army disintegrated. Realizing this, the Poles got in on the act, and two major Polish nobles offered their private armies (as all armies in Poland were private) to assist “Dimitri’s” cause. The second impostor’s coalition looked like this by 1607: Cossacks, a major and well disciplined military force; the Poles; armed peasants; lower level boyars (normally as poor as their peasants, and their noble titles should not blind one to their poverty); many lower level clergy and some of the larger brigand groups (whose true nature has yet to be really studied). The one thing this motley crew did not have was discipline, and many of the impostor’s victories proved ephemeral. City after city opened its gates to “Dimitri”, only to be disappointed (to put it mildly) by the poor behavior of the rebels. Shuiskii’s time was running out, and there was no one who would defend him.
In a panic, Shuiskii went to the Swedes. He realized that Sweden would not like the idea of Poland having much of Russian under its control, and it took little time to convince them of the necessity of intervention. It was Skopin who led the Swedish detachment against the rebels, and quickly defeated their organization. The Cossacks were defeated at the St. Sergius monastery, and the country was cleared of the rebellion. Money was tight, however, and the Swedish forces could not be paid. Sweden abandoned their Russian campaign, leaving the Poles, who, in order to act against Sweden, had invaded Russia in force, in control of much of the west.
However, Shuiskii’s misery was not over. To his outrage, certain boyar clans attempted to offer Skopin the throne of Moscow. He was genuinely popular, and due to his military training, was not a part of the boyar clans in an economic fashion. The population seemed to trust him. Riots broke out in Moscow when Skopin died under mysterious circumstances in 1610. Many authorities claim he was poisoned. But whatever the truth, this incident proved the end for Shuiskii.
As it turns out (now going back a few years), the behavior of the rebels brought a few members of their coalition back to loyalty to Moscow (though rarely to Shuiskii personally). Prokopii Lyapunov was one of these boyars, who was instrumental in returning a few lower lever boyars back to Moscow. Unfortunately, rebel victories did not lead to a just society, but to drunken rioting, desecration of churches, mass theft (even from each other) and destruction of productive property. The peasants were clearly not ready to rule. The tide turned against “Dimitri II.”
While the allure of “Dimitri II” was fading, Russians quickly came to the realization that he was not the primary problem anymore, but the fact that Poland controlled most of western Russia. Everything then changed, and loyalty to Moscow (especially when Shuiskii was forced to do penance as a monk) became the norm again. When Shuiskii was finally deposed, the oligarchy took over as a “Council of Boyars.” This council, true to form, was quite willing, so long as their privileges were guaranteed, to give the country to the Poles. Many of the boyars swore to Vladislas (the son of Sigsmund) once the former made it clear that he would, of course, rule “constitutionally.” This is again a code for “I-will-not-destroy-the-oligarchy-and-will-guarantee-your-trading-privileges-with-Poland-and-Germany.” The question is: does God intervene in the history of His people? The answer is yes, and this intervention came in the guise of the greatest of medieval Russian heroes, St. Germogen (Hermogenes), patriarch of Moscow, proudly featured on our cover. St. Hermogenes was a quiet, unassuming monk who was placed in charge of the diocese of Kazan. Significantly, Kazan, as you remember, was the headquarters of one of the major Tartar hordes. Therefore, it was Islamic. St. Hermogenes was quickly noticed for his genuine care for the Muslims now under Muscovite control, and, due to his popularity among the Islamicists, his conversion of many. In fact, it was the genuine love for the Muslims that acted as the model for St. Herman and Innocent’s conversion of the pagan Alaskan Indians centuries later; a respect for native customs and language, and the maintenance of all customs not obviously at variance with the faith.
It was Germogen who became the spirit of Russia during this–the second half of the troubles; the half that led from the civil war among Russians to a war of liberation against the Poles and their hangers on. This war of liberation was a class war (lower against the upper) , as well as a war of religious and ethnic liberation. His missives reached all Russia, nearly every significant population center was riled by the holy patriarch to rise against the Polish invader.
The clans were split among themselves, as were the Poles. As far as the boyars were concerned, many were still quite willing to throw in their lot with the Polish Commonwealth, others were not so sure. But regardless of their indecision, the people: low clergy, monastics, low townsmen, peasants and lower nobility rose against the Poles, and created a large “people’s army” to liberate Orthodox Russia. The Patriarch was placed under arrest by the pro-Polish boyars, and was beaten and tortured for his pro-Moscow stance (on our cover, he is in prison being cajoled to sign a statement demanding a blessing of the Polish invaders). He solemnly excommunicated the armies of the pro-Poland boyars (a deadly weapon in those days), and equally solemnly, cursed Roman Catholicism and its Polish military battering ram.
But just as the boyars were confused and divided, so were the Poles. At that time, there was no Polish “nation” in the political sense, as there was in Russia. Poland was a “Commonwealth” a pleasant-sounding codeword for the oligarchy of the titled nobility, each who was sovereign on his estates. The “Polish” army, in other words, was based around the personal retainers of the nobility, a situation that would eventually lead to the destruction of the Commonwealth, but would remain, even under Austrian occupation, until the 20th century. As a result, the division of the Russian spoils became a source of contention, and the Polish armed forces were as divided as their masters.
Not wasting any time, the Swedes, having a taste of Russian soil from the policies of Shuiskii, sought to take advantage of this weakness by invading and occupying the north. As far as Russia was concerned, there was no central government: Polish nobles occupied Moscow, Poles occupied the west, Sweden, the north. The closest thing that came to restoring order were the brigand gangs that prowled the countryside. And it is here at the actions of the saintly Patriarch become more and more important.
The “people’s army,” assisted by the larger and more wealthy monasteries, as well as local patriots scattered throughout Russia, put together a large, fairly well equipped and disciplined army. Insofar as their organization was concerned, they were on the same footing as the Poles. This army however, did not exist merely for the enrichment of an oligarchy, but was, rather vocally, fighting for the independence of the motherland and of the Orthodox faith. Because of this, local notables gave all they had: homes were sold, horses traded and everything that could possibly be used as a weapon was voluntarily donated to the armed services. Even the opponents of things Russian have not been able to describe this army in any other way than as “national patriotic.” There was clearly a strong sense of Orthodox Slavic identity, national destiny buttressed by a powerful religious consciousness. It was a war of nationalist liberation.
The patriarch ordered a fast prior to their first engagements against the Swedes and Poles. This was done for a number of reasons. Many believe that Russia at this time was medically illiterate. However, the actual evidence points to a series of Greek doctors residing in Moscow for some time, as well as a phalanx of German ones. One of the central forms of therapy for illness (and, more significantly, as a preventative measure) was the xerophagic fast. Completely unknown to “Russia scholars,” this knowledge existed in Russia. Please permit me a digression on the nature of fasting.
The ancient Greeks of Hippocrates’ day fasted as a medical measure. Fasting does a number of things that have been “forgotten” in a society dedicated to turning food into a commodity and fetish. Fasting heightens the senses: it does this by the cleaning out of residual foods and fats, as well as, more importantly, permitting more and more oxygen to reach the brain, rather than being used as fuel in the digestion process, a process very costly for the body, as a tremendous amount of energy is necessary to properly digest a meal, particular one made up of either of the two “heavy” foods, meat and/or dairy. In ancient Greece, as well as in the Semitic world, men would not make an important decision without fasting for a week or more. And it is from this experience that the Orthodox doctrine of fasting derives.
Fasting, including some physical exercise, forces large amounts of oxygen to the brain. It heightens consciousness, reasoning, the senses, quick-wittedness, decision making, logic, mathematical ability, physical endurance, concentration and many other things central to human life. Fasting is important to a full life, in that it permits the brain to, so to speak, rise above the world of particulars, into a world of intellection, of spirit. In fact, there are few religious or quasi-religious traditions that do not include fasting as part of their regimen for this very reason.
A xerophagic fast is one that literally translates into the “eating of dry things.” Another way of putting it is the eating of things that do not tax the stomach and “cost” the body oxygen. Dried bread takes minimal effort to digest; honey takes no effort to digest (and is the reason why St. John the Baptist ate so much of it.) In fact, honey, being pre-digested in its natural form, is not digested at all. Therefore, dried bread (with a little salt), as well as honey, cost the body almost nothing in terms of digestion, and yet, with the “leave off” fasting on weekends (fruits and vegetables), all the nutrition one needs is present in this diet, while heightening the brain’s power. Slowly, the brain, due to the increase in available oxygen, is able to reach 11, 12, 15% of capacity. I am personally convinced this is how our Orthodox monks see things in the spiritual world invisible to the stuffed, food-obsessed American materialist. Outside of the Christian world, this regimen of fasting is also how certain Buddhist philosophers are able to control their own body temperature at will, read minds, and perform other mental feats beyond the capacity of westerners. Stuffing with food overtaxes the system, retards mental development and renders one incapable of seeing anything over the day-to-day empirical world. Quite literally, American food-fetishists are literally fattening up Americans for the kill.
It is this Greek wisdom that Hermogenes was tapping into when he commanded a long fast prior to battle. People knowing little about the body would say that such a policy would weaken an army prior to battle. The opposite was true: sharp and strong, the newly purified bodies of the “peoples army” were to trounce the over-stuffed Poles, whose church had long abandoned fasting, and the Protestant Swedes, whose theology had made a heavy meal their only sacrament. The fact that Poland and Sweden, because of the ambitions of Polish monarch Sigsmund III, began to fight one another assisted the cause of the liberationists.
In 1610, the boyarin permitted Polish king Vladislas to enter Moscow and become “tsar.” If any more information was necessary on the loyalty of the boyars, this was the clincher. It was this “election” to tsar that led to the tortures and persecutions of Patriarch Germogen the Great, as well as many monastics in Moscow. However, Vladislas’ father, Sigsmund III, saw how relatively easy it was to manipulate the Russian clans, and sought the crown for himself. However, this alienated many of the boyars because Sigsmund could not be controlled as they thought Vladislas could be. Sigsmund was under heavy papal pressure to invade Russia and forcibly convert the population. Vladislas was not willing to do this, and hence the divisions among the Poles became more and more severe. This battle angered the population, split the already fractious clans and essentially won the war for Russia. The fanatical greed, disloyalty, ir-religion and basic arrogance made sure that Russia was to remain a strong monarchy, and it is for this reason that I make the claim that the Time of Troubles was the most seminal event in pre-revolutionary Russian history.
In addition to the fast, the patriarch made certain that only Orthodox Russians could fight in the “people’s army,” so high was the national-religious spirit of the people. The people’s army pretended to be interested in a Swedish prince as a ruse, the Swedes assisted the people’s army in clearing out the heretical Poles, and then turned on the equally heretical Swedes. The people’s army stormed the kremlin, eliminated all opposition and, once order was restored, called an election for a Russian Orthodox prince, one who was not involved in the boyar intrigues of the past. The Romanov dynasty was born.
How do we really know the comparative popularity of medieval figures?
Of course, this is why real thinkers and critics become historians. It takes a subtly critical mind and an ability to take small pieces of evidence and put them together to create a “case.” As with all such questions, our evidence is almost always circumstantial, but putting such things together is the real job of both the journalist and historian. We can see the various risings against the clans throughout the period we have been dealing with, the fact that the rebels were supportive of monarchy but were dedicated to wiping out the clans, and the fact that the boyars were quite willing to sell Russia out time and again for financial gain, as evidence for the popular hatred of the clans. The fact that the population, when given a chance in Russia, will elect a strong leader over fractious and greedy boyars. From Ivan the Terrible to Putin, this pattern is clear.
You have said before that such events have created the Russian mind. Have these events crated Russian anti-Catholicism?
The answer is yes. Often, professional historians will say that the Byzantine inheritance provided Russian with an “anti-Latin” point of view. The fact that Poland was under papal direction to invade and forcible convert Russia seems to never enter their mind as being relevant. The Troubles are what created the anti-Catholic Russian mind. Catholicism to the Russians was merely a thin pseudo-theological covering for Polish and Lithuanian expansionism. The choice was clear. For the educated Russian, one can see the example of Patriarch St. Hermogenes, peacefully converting the Central Asian Muslims though genuine care and love, while he can also read about the various papal “crusades” preached to the Poles or Knights to forcibly convert the “heathen.” It really does not take a genius to see the pattern here.