Nikolai Berdyaev’s Political Thought: A Trojan Horse for the Idea of a ‘Sovereign’ Russian Philosophy

by Alexey Zhavoronkov

Since the mid-2010s (and especially since 2022), Russian officials and ideologists have been actively promoting the project of a ‘sovereign’ Russian philosophy that purifies itself from destructive foreign influences, establishing the basis for a new state ideology. The concept of ‘sovereign’ philosophy is dualistic, offering two possible interpretations. It can be viewed as a completely novel undertaking, a fresh start that demands immense intellectual capacity. The latter is currently absent, as evidenced by recent manifestoes that are usually stuck at the level of defining the boundaries (by exploring whether a ‘sovereign’ philosophy should have a corresponding ‘sovereign’ nomenclature and field of research). An alternative, more pragmatic option is to capitalize on the achievements of the predecessors by selecting concepts that align best with the political and ideological objectives of the government. This latter goal, however, requires a clear distinction between those who belong to the canon of ‘sovereign’ Russian philosophy and those who do not. A short list of names (such as Carl Schmitt and Iwan Ilyin) is already in the canon because of their enduring significance for the official discourse. In most cases, however, the jury is still out on whether a Russian or non-Russian philosopher should be included, ignored or outright excluded. This uncertainty is exemplified by the recent debate surrounding Immanuel Kant’s ‘Western’ cosmopolitanism, sparked by the statements of the governor of the Kaliningrad Region.

In the case of Nikolai Berdyaev, one of the most prominent political philosophers in the Russian intellectual tradition, the decision has currently fallen in his favor. This decision was the outcome of a long-term development which many scholars would characterize as the gradual emergence of post-Soviet conservatism in Russian politics. However, this picture only includes ideological claims rather than a detailed examination of how specific concepts are employed to justify political decisions in various fields. In what follows, I will first provide some examples of Berdyaev’s significance for the current Russian political discourse. I will then show that the official impression of Berdyaev’s suitability for the ‘sovereign’ ideological canon stems from a lack of knowledge about his political ideas. Lastly, I will explain why Berdyaev’s political thought can be most useful for a critical evaluation of Russian pseudo-conservative politics in the broader framework of the contemporary crisis of conservatism.

1.               Berdyaev and the ‘Sovereign’ Canon

During a conversation with the families of soldiers who perished in Russia’s war against Ukraine, Putin mentioned Nikolai Berdyaev and Immanuel Kant as two of his favorite philosophers. While the mention of Kant’s name can be explained by his 300^th anniversary (instead of the unlikely possibility that Putin has read Kant’s works), the appearance of Berdyaev’s name has a different cause beyond his recent 150^th anniversary. For a long time, Berdyaev enjoyed popularity in self-described conservative pro-government circles and in Orthodox circles in Russia and beyond. Moreover, Russian politicians and bureaucrats have been mentioning his name on official occasions since the early 2010s. During a party congress of “United Russia” back in 2013, Berdyaev’s books as well as those by Ilyin and Solovyev were gifted to the party members – with the explanation that one must be familiar with Putin’s favorite thinkers. The claim does not look unfounded, as during his annual Presidential address to the Federal Assembly on December 12, 2013, held just a few months before the annexation of Crimea, Putin made reference to Berdyaev’s definition of conservatism from the fifth letter (chapter) of Philosophy of Inequality (1923):

We know that there are more and more people in the world who support our position on defending traditional values that have made up the spiritual and moral foundation of civilisation in every nation for thousands of years: the values of traditional families, real human life, including religious life, not just material existence but also spirituality, the values of humanism and global diversity. Of course, this is a conservative position. But speaking in the words of Nikolai Berdyaev, the point of conservatism is not that it prevents movement forward and upward, but that it prevents movement backward and downward, into chaotic darkness and a return to a primitive state.

In the works of ‘conservative’ Russian ideologists, we come across numerous laudatory references to Berdyaev’s thought. Alexander Dugin, in his Fourth Political Theory, praises Berdyaev’s concept of the new Middle Ages (Dugin 2012, 69). Alexander Prokhanov, who also makes frequent allusions to Berdyaev (primarily to his criticism against the Westernizers among Russian intellectuals), back in 2014, characterized Berdyaev’s ideas as the essence of future state ideology. (Of course, there are exceptions to this general pattern; for instance, authors from the ultraorthodox camp centred around certain media, such as Tsargrad, are more cautious in their evaluation of Berdyaev’s political thought due to his criticism against monarchy.)

Given this, it is not surprising that Berdyaev’s name plays a prominent role in the current debates on ‘sovereign philosophy’ that have gained momentum since February 2022. Apart from the standard claim that Berdyaev, like many intellectuals from Plato to Heidegger, would undoubtedly endorse the ‘special military operation’ and Putin’s politics in general, the arguments in favor of Berdyaev’s inclusion into the ‘sovereign’ canon can be divided into three groups.

First, it is argued that Berdyaev advocates the necessity of a new Medieval era, essentially a reversal of history. As mentioned before, this interpretation is primarily promoted by Dugin, who regards it as perfectly aligning with his concept of Russia as a non-modern (or pre-modern) state. It mainly stems from a misreading of Berdyaev’s theory of history and historical development, which I will briefly address later.

Second is the assertion that among Russian philosophers in emigration, Berdyaev was the one who showed the greatest support for the Soviet Union and Stalinism. The claim is based on the fact that the late Berdyaev gradually accepted the necessity of revolutions throughout Russian history. However, it is also generally known that, even in the late period (1930s–1940s), Berdyaev harshly criticized communism. Furthermore, Berdyaev’s related argument that Russian history is a series of discontinuities due to revolutions and revolts might undermine political and ideological attempts at selective instrumentalization of historical examples on the level of conservative rhetoric.

Thirdly, a number of ideologists from the Izborsk club circle argue that Berdyaev’s late concept of the ‘Russian idea’ (from his 1946 work of the same name) can be used as a foundation of contemporary national ideology. For instance, Vitaly Averyanov’s 2021 book Mental Map and the National Mythos («Ментальная карта и национальный миф») was seen by many of his colleagues as a direct continuation of Dostoevsky’s and Berdyaev’s analysis of Russian national type, this time with a 20^th-century focus. Given Berdyaev’s criticism against real politics in the Russian Empire, this claim turns out to be quite challenging to justify.

Lastly and most broadly, Berdyaev is considered by many Russian officials, Putin himself included, as a conservative thinker and thus a forefather of today’s ‘new Russian conservatism’ (to use a popular notion from contemporary Russian studies). In the next section, I will address this final point by focusing on Berdyaev’s works that specifically examine the historical background and fundamental traits of Russian conservatism.

2. Conservatism in Berdyaev’s Political Philosophy

Berdyaev’s interest in conservatism as an ideological movement arises early in his intellectual career. In an essay published in 1904, he examines the conservative ideas of Boris Chicherin (1828–1904), one of the most respected Russian jurists and legal philosophers at the time. Describing Chicherin’s key work Science and Religion (1879), Berdyaev, in his usual sharp style, makes the following remark from the standpoint of his conception of freedom, which remained a central theme in his thought throughout the middle and late periods:

He [Chicherin] understands religion as a conserving force, not a liberating one. It preserves the old economy, family, state and other foundations of life. Therefore, the birth of new life forms is out of the question. Chicherin is a very versatile and strong thinker, yet he always lacked creativity and defended a form of Hegelianism that considers the truth to be discovered once and for all. It was somewhat dreary and stuffy to live in this rationalistic dungeon of Kantian Hegelianism, where all search had already ceased. (Berdyaev 1904/2002, 230)

Berdyaev follows up by claiming that, for him, Chicherin’s quest for a stable foundation of life, knowledge, morals, family, and state is too conservative, lacking the boldness needed to look for a new, transfigured kind of human being. Still, he gives Chicherin explicit credit for his outstanding defense of natural law theory (ibid., 231). In a note to this passage, Berdyaev makes it clear that he regards Chicherin’s approach as conservative, despite him being “one of the strongest theorists of liberalism”. These remarks are not as contradictory as they could seem, as Chicherin combines the notion of individual reason (from the liberal tradition of political thought) with conservative topics and goals.

In December 1904, Berdyaev publishes his programmatic essay The Fate of Russian Conservatism, which focuses on why Russian conservatives could not overcome the deep crisis they faced since the late 19th century. Berdyaev points out that these days, Russia has no genuine conservative journals anymore. Instead, there are many allegedly conservative pro-government newspapers, like Our Life («Наша жизнь»), Son of the Fatherland («Сын Отечества»), or the recent editions of The New Times («Новая газета»). In Berdyaev’s words, “those from whom one could expect all kinds of betrayal, betrayal of literature to those in power, could not be accepted into the literary family. A literary movement can only be recognized as ideological if it respects ideas and free thought, providing literature with an independent creative value” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 256).

Berdyaev’s criticism of Russian conservatism as an ideological movement is severe. He argues that in Russia, conservative thought has not survived as a legitimate intellectual movement, as it eventually degenerated into a shallow pro-government agenda with no proper intellectual core to speak of. Understandably, this development was accompanied by a loss of intellectual freedom. Berdyaev elaborates on these arguments by comparing the current state of conservatism with its early stages. For him, the standard of a proper conservative intellectual movement is the Slavophilia movement during the mid-19th century. The ‘proper’ label does not mean the movement was exclusively conservative, as it contained “many progressive elements and demands that were common with the opposing camp of Westernizers” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 257). According to Berdyaev, Slavophiles attempted to combine two opposites – freedom of the people and the mystically grounded authority of the ruler (which at the time did not equal an unconditional justification of actions of real rulers). This strategy was doomed from the start, not only because there was not much to conserve (a problem unique to Russian conservatism; see Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 265) but also because “freedom cannot be built on the authority of power which is its opposite.” More precisely, freedom can only be desired “by people themselves” rather than by rulers who frequently seek to enslave their subjects (ibid.). According to Berdyaev, it is understandable that the romantic approach of the Slavophiles “has undergone a realistic decomposition” (ibid.), transforming into etatist positivism, a “governmental conventionalism” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 258), as exemplified by people like the journalist Mikhail Katkov and his even less gifted followers (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 258–259; Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 259–260). As soon as this process concluded, every idea was lost. Now, there was “only power, naked, uncovered, and shameless” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 258–259).

The bureaucratization of conservatism has affected intellectuals who were once part of the conservative movement. Berdyaev describes the results of this influence as a “flight from the conservative camp of all that is alive, talented and honest” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 260). Among many examples he mentions is Vladimir Solovyev, who became a brilliant critic of conservatism and nationalism, “unveiling the irreconcilable contradictions between bureaucratic conventionalism and the universal principles of the Christian religion” (ibid.). Another example is Vasily Rozanov, whose romantic approach to conservatism was “abhorred by the practice of gloomy reactionism, by the bureaucratic rather than mystical sanctioning of life” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 261). Berdyaev even goes as far as to characterize Konstantin Leontyev as a thinker who, despite the essentially reactionary and misanthropic character of his religious philosophy, did not fit into political schemes of bureaucratic conservatism (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 260).

For Slavophiles in Berdyaev’s description, the authority had to be complemented by the creativeness of the national spirit. Only half of this concept has survived in subsequent generations of conservative authors, as the veneration of authority “has quietly devolved into servitude to the fact of power itself” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 259). Behind the formal mask consisting of references to the “common good” and calls for a violent rescue of the Russian people hides the utilitarian bureaucratic conservatism that “with its every manifestation denies absolute values, inalienable rights, the religious and metaphysical meaning of freedom” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 264). According to Berdyaev, the conservative political system in Russia “is an organized, nihilistic (in the most precise sense of the word) denial of culture, denial of religion, philosophy, science, literature, art, morality, law, all the spiritual content of human life. Our conservatives have turned into true nihilists, maintaining a conspiracy against all creativity in life” (Berdyaev 1904a/2002, 265).

Berdyaev’s anti-authoritarian approach to conservatism reminds us of the old (aristocratic) conservative European tradition before the French Revolution. Berdyaev’s conclusion on the fate of Russian conservatism in the late 19th century can, in some essential aspects, be applied to Western conservative traditions. He brilliantly recognizes the disease that plagued conservatism during the 19th-century crisis due to the gradual erosion of religious authority and rapid technological developments. His diagnosis also sounds like a forewarning, forecasting many later developments, from the ones during the 20th-century Interwar period to the contemporary events unfolding before our eyes.

Early Berdyaev’s understanding of conservatism is decisively anti-etatist and anti-authoritarian. Did his views drastically change during the Revolution or as a consequence of Berdyaev’s forced emigration, as his contemporary political readers seem to imply? Let us first look at further examples of Berdyaev’s analysis of conservatism, starting with Philosophy of Inequality (1923), which serves as a reference in Putin’s 2013 speech. In this work, Berdyaev’s focus shifts from the origins and development of Russian conservative thought to conservative principles themselves. Accordingly, his judgement of conservatism is less harsh, as he is more interested in the question of the possibility of conservatism as a contemporary intellectual position. The shallow and imitational bureaucratic conservatism is studied as one of the major causes behind the Russian Revolution, which, according to Berdyaev, was driven by an equally shallow ideology.

At the beginning of his fifth letter, On Conservatism, Berdyaev argues that a conservative environment is essential for the development of creative individuals (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 119). For Berdyaev, this kind of conservative depth that contrasts with external and political conservatism can be found in great individuals, such as Goethe, Schelling, Hegel, Schopenhauer, de Maistre, Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Leontyev, Solovyev, and many others (ibid.). These individuals search for new life forms without placing their beliefs in revolutionary ways. Internal (intellectual) conservatism is opposed to the revolutionary spirit, as the latter “throws everything past into the devouring abyss of the future” (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 120). However, respecting the past does not entail deifying its idealized image by leaving out all “ugliness and abomination” (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 121) and solely focusing on the beauty in what is long gone. Instead, it is the respect for “the beauty of the present that is now, after the transformation of the past by the struggle of eternity with time” (ibid.). For Berdyaev, one illustration of this type of beauty is an old church that appeals to us not because we can instantly picture how it looked some 500 years ago but because we find it beautiful in its current state (ibid.).

Instead of idealizing conservatism in all its forms simply as an opposition to revolutionary thought, Berdyaev makes an explicit point about what should be preserved. He once again differentiates between intellectual conservatism and reactionary politics with its bureaucratic conservatism:

The truth [правда] of conservatism is not in impeding creative movement but in preserving and resurrecting the eternal and imperishable of the past. Still, in the past, many things were corruptible, sinful, evil, dark, and thus doomed to fire. The preservation of all husks of the past […] is a bad, evil, negative conservatism. This conservatism prepares revolutions and is their culprit. The rotten, decaying processes of the past have no right to be protected. (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 124)

Without mentioning specific examples and names, Berdyaev refers to reactionary, inert conservatism as a type of conservatism that “has done more to compromise all conservatism than anything else.” This kind of conservatism and its opposite side and nemesis, which is revolutionism, worship death (that is, decay or destruction) rather than life (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 125).

According to Berdyaev, every culture requires both a conservative and a creative element, and it can perish if one suppresses the other. In public life, conservatism prevents the destruction of the “social space formed by the creative and organizing work of history.” At this point, we encounter Berdyaev’s argument mentioned by Putin:

The meaning of conservatism is not to prevent the forward and upward movement but to prevent the backward and downward movement toward chaotic darkness, a return to the state that preceded the formation of states and cultures. (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 130).

However, as Berdyaev emphasizes once more, conservatism can become a force that prevents the forward and upward movement if it “thinks itself as the only cosmic origin of human life and thus becomes hostile to the creative origin” (ibid.). The chaotic, formless darkness (a description that reminds us of Nietzsche’s concept of the Dionysian) is not inherently evil, as it can be enlightened and creatively transformed rather than sanctified. The role of conservatism is not to violently suppress but to promote any organic development by ensuring that “the future does not eradicate the past, but continues to develop it” (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 133). In contrast, a false conservatism that impedes development quickly becomes tedious and repulsive, driving a wedge between the government and its citizens (Berdyaev 1923/2012, 133–134).

As we can see, Berdyaev does not abandon his previous views on conservatism. While revolutionism is now the main target of his criticism, he further elaborates on his distinction between intellectual and bureaucratic, real and false conservatism. Much as he did in his 1904 essay, he stresses the importance of creative freedom that should complement conservative thought. From Berdyaev’s perspective, political conservatism’s abandonment of these principles (or rather of the idea of ever pursuing them) is one of the primary causes of the Russian Revolution.

While the late Berdyaev did not publish further essays that specifically focus on social and political facets of conservatism, he touches on a number of conservative concepts in various works. In The Russian Idea, he looks at conservatism from the panoramic perspective of Russian intellectual history. He largely attributes the “traditional and conservative character” of Russian thought to Byzantine cultural influences (Berdyaev 1948, 5). He also points out that the 17th century, referenced by many thinkers of Russian conservatism (and currently by a number of Russian politicians) as a ‘golden standard’, was, in fact, a century marked by schism, social radicalization, and turmoil (Berdyaev 1948, 10). Furthermore, he stresses the important differences between the Western and Russian traditions of conservatism, manifested in examples of specific thinkers like Joseph de Maistre and Louis de Bonald; what was perceived by the Western audience as traditionalist concepts was viewed as revolutionary by Russian intellectuals (Berdyaev 1948, 35). Most of these observations on conservatism and specific conservative or liberal-conservative thinkers (like Chicherin) present an expansion and development of his early remarks. Still, there is also a crucial difference compared to earlier periods, as Berdyaev regularly addresses the limitations of conservative views of history, arguing that we “must not recognize as historical only what pleases conservative taste” (Berdyaev 1948, 129). In this context, he modifies his view of revolutionism, recognizing revolutions (and nihilism) as an integral part of Russian history (ibid.), thus significantly softening his previous opposition of conservatism and revolutionism. Instead of admiring Stalinism (as suggested by Berdyaev’s political readers in the 21st century Russia), he compromises with the fact that Russian culture per se was not completely destroyed by the 1917 Revolution.

3. Final Thoughts from a Contemporary Perspective

Berdyaev’s political philosophy is both captivating and troublesome for the ‘sovereign’ canon. His politically opportunistic readers among today’s Russian intellectuals who argue that his thought has to be studied in more detail should prepare themselves for an unpleasant surprise. The false, bureaucratic conservatism Berdyaev coherently criticizes throughout his philosophical career bears a striking resemblance to contemporary Russia. The fundamental role that freedom and creativity play in Berdyaev’s work is hardly compatible with the repressive and reactionary direction of Russian politics, which suppresses all civil efforts that do not align with the vertical of power. Berdyaev would consider the rhetoric of death and decay that has permeated the Russian political discourse as repulsive and exceedingly dangerous. His analysis of the current state of Russian politics would likely provide a similar warning against false conservatism as in his texts before and after the Russian Revolution. Finally, the general idea of a ‘sovereign’ philosophy that seeks to sever its ties with the Western tradition would appear ridiculous to Berdyaev, who was deeply integrated into the European intellectual life.

Still, Berdyaev’s ‘sovereign’ readers have got one thing right: his political philosophy is still largely unexplored and underappreciated (otherwise, there would be no plausible explanation of why he is neglected in numerous studies on the history of Russian political thought). This fact becomes even more striking if we consider that Berdyaev’s concepts and arguments can be instrumental in the analysis of the radical conservatism of Russian politics as a form of pseudo-conservatism. Berdyaev’s approach has solid foundations in intellectual history, which allows him to recognize crucial differences between Western and Russian traditions of conservative thought. As such, it could be used to put Russian pseudo-conservatism into a broader perspective of the worldwide crisis of traditional conservatism. Indeed, many problems of today’s conservatism are essentially the same unsolved issues from the 19th and 20th centuries, which were accurately diagnosed by Berdyaev a century ago. Most importantly, conservatism is still struggling to define its boundaries, primarily in relation to liberalism. Berdyaev’s analysis of the nihilistic nature of radical forms of conservatism could prove instrumental in understanding the problems that arise from this struggle. Furthermore, Berdyaev’s sober assessment of conservative thought, as well as his repeated attempts to engage conservatism and liberalism in a dialog, would be equally welcome in the current climate of political and social radicalization.

References

Berdyaev, Nikolai. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948.

Berdyaev, Nikolai. Sub specie aeternitatis: Opyty filosofskiye, sotsialniye i literaturnye [Sub specie aeternitatis. Philosophical, social and literary essays]. Moscow: Kanon, 2002.

Berdyaev, Nikolai. Filisofiya neravenstva [Philosophy of Inequality]. Moscow: Institute of Russian Civilization, 2012.

Dugin, Alexander. The Fourth Political Theory. London: Arktos, 2012.