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This page contains
the introduction and chapter one to a translation of S. F. Platonov’s 1923 work on
Ivan Vasilievcih, originally published under the title Ivan
Groznyi. Edited by Joseph L. Wieczynski and published in this
English version by the Academic International Press, 1974. This
is not the complete replication of the book, nor is it intended
to pursue any final assessment on the tsar. This page is solely
for the purpose of readers to fact check quotes given both by
the Soviet and Post-Soviet authors contained in their versions
on the historiography of Ivan Vasilievich. This page will attend
to references purposes for my work on the tsar, as only a
cross-reference for readers to view in context quotes made by
each author.
S.F. Platonov Chapter I
CHAPTER
IVAN THE TERRIBLE IN RUSSIAN HISTORIOGRAPHY
An entire book would
be needed to review in detail what has been written about Ivan
the Terrible by historians and poets. From Prince Mikhail
Shcherbatov’s History of Russia to R.Yu. Wipper’s Ivan
Grozny, our knowledge of Ivan and his times has passed
through a number of stages and has realized great success. It
can be said that this success marks one of the brightest pages
in the history of our scholarship and stands as one of the
decisive victories of the scientific method. The author hopes
that the following pages will make this statement sufficiently
evident.
The main difficulty one faces when studying the era of Ivan the
Terrible and his personal character and significance is not the
complexity of the period and that of its central figure, but the
great lack of material needed for such study. The turbulence of
the Time of Troubles and the famous Moscow fire of 1626
destroyed so many Muscovite archives and ancient documents that
the events of the sixteenth century must be studied from odd
remnants and scraps of written material. Those not conversant
with the methods of historical work probably would be amazed if
told that a biography of Ivan the Terrible cannot be written,
for we know extraordinarily little of the man himself.
Biographies and descriptions of Peter the Great and his father,
Tsar Alexis, can be written because these interesting
individuals have left us their manuscripts: their official
papers, notes, correspondence—in a word, their archives.
But nothing of the sort has come
down to us from Ivan. We do not know his handwriting, nor do we
have so much as a scrap of paper written by him. All the efforts
of the eminent archaeographer, N.P. Likhachev, to discover such
a fragment and to identify a single line of his writing came to
nothing. This careful researcher limited himself to publishing
two brief inscriptions “without making assumptions,” as he put
it, and let it be known that he was willin1 to regard one of
them a facsimile of Ivan’s handwriting.
We have none of the original texts of the literary works
attributed to Ivan, only their copies; arid from these we cannot
reconstruct exactly the author’s own text. Tsar Ivan’s famous
“Epistle” to Prince Andrei Kurbsky in 1564 reads differently in
its various editions and copies, and we cannot be certain which
edition and which copy must be considered the original. The same
can be said of all the other “works” attributed to Ivan. Even
Ivan’s “Testament” of 1572, which is an official document, is
not extant in its original form but has been reprinted from an
incomplete and defective copy of the eighteenth century. If a
learned skeptic were to appear and contend that all of Ivan’s
“works” were spurious, it would be difficult to argue with him.
We would have to prove Ivan’s authorship through internal
evidence, for the documents themselves fail to confirm it. The
sole exception is Ivan’s correspondence with one of his
favorites, Vasily Grigorievich Griazny-Il’in. When Griazny was
captured by the Crimean Tatars, Ivan “graciously” began to
correspond with him concerning his ransom. In time the texts of
the Tsar’s letters and those of Griazny were included in the
official record of “Crimean Affairs” and can therefore be
regarded as true documents, an exact and authentic copy of their
correspondence. For this reason the Tsar’s exchange of letters
with Griazny has been accorded unusual historical significance,
as the most recent scholar to study these matters, P.A. Sadikov,
has correctly concluded.
So it is with Ivan’s personal writings and letters. Yet
little more can be said for the entire body of chronicle
material dealing with this era. In the sixteenth century the
writing of chronicles in Russia came under official control; for
this reason the chronicles become reserved and biased. The
official chroniclers either depersonalized the particular
archival records that they used or else altered them to suit
their needs. They strictly adhered to the government’s point of
view when recording events that occurred in their day. Often
these chronicles were somewhat revised to reflect Tsar Ivan’s
attitudes, as can be seen from the so-called Litsei’oi svod.
The thirteenth volume of the Complete Collection of
Russian chronicles contains fragments from several pages of
this collection that apparently have been revised and augmented
at Ivan’s personal command. Clearly the historian who uses such
a source must be extremely cautious, lest he fall victim to a
one-sided interpretation of events. But the same danger
threatens the historian from the other side as well. The Tsar
and his official chroniclers described events in Moscow in their
own fashion. But so, too, did Ivan the Terrible’s political
enemies.
The notorious Prince A.M. Kurbsky fled to Lithuania to escape
the terror in Moscow and there composed his History of the
Grand Prince of Moscow. This work, a very learned lampoon,
was intended to influence public opinion in Lithuania. It
contains much historical material that is valuable and exact;
therefore all of Kurbsky’s biased attacks upon Ivan acquire
special force. Yet for all that it remains a lampoon, not
history, and we cannot accept the word of its author.
The accounts of Ivan provided by foreigners are yet more biased.
The clearest example of this is the “epistle” written by the
Livonians, Taube and Kruse, on the “unprecedented tyranny of the
Grand Prince of Moscow.” Even that learned and discreet
Englishman, Giles Fletcher,10 in Moscow five years after Ivan’s
death, did not escape the general mood of the times, which
attributed to the dead Muscovite tyrant personal guilt for all
the disorder in Russian life at that time.
The historian who works with the chronicle material and literary
accounts from Ivan’s era must exercise special caution and
should be prepared not only for pure subjectivity but for
passionate bias in every source that he consults. Even when
working with the literature of those times he finds himself on
uncertain ground. Bitter social and political strife set its
stamp upon everything. Ivan’s contemporaries directed their
literary efforts toward the urgent problems of the moment; but
the primitive state of their political consciousness prevented
them from understanding and passing firm and clear judgments on
these matters. In all the “debates,” “epistles,”
“denunciations,” “petitions” and “tales” of the period the
scholar searches in vain for definite conceptions and programs.
He encounters only a vague babble and obscure allusions to
reality, allusions made still more incomprehensible and suspect
by the ignorance of the copyists of these works. The literature
of this era, like the historical sources, fails to offer the
historian much in the way of interpretation, nor does it provide
him the purely objective facts he needs to create his own
interpretation of the times.
Since this is the state of the historical materials, it is
clearly impossible to compose a serious and factually complete
biography of Ivan the Terrible. It is worth our while to recall
what we actually do know of the various years of Ivan’s life. We
shall remember that there are a number of years of Ivan’s life
for which we have no information at all. For example, there are
no data concerning the earliest years of his life, except for
three or four references in the letters of Ivan’s father, Grand
Prince Vasily, written to Ivan’s mother, Elena Vasilievna, in
1530-1533. The Grand Prince was away and was concerned about the
health of his first-born, “because about Friday Ivan became
ill:” that is, “there appeared on his son Ivan’s neck, right
under the back of his head, a large, hard spot.” The infant’s
abscess healed safely, and thereafter until the thirteenth year
of his life we know nothing of his health or of his life in
general.
At the end of 1543 the orphaned thirteen-year old sovereign
first displayed his temper. He arrested one of the most
distinguished boyars, Prince Andrei Shuisky, and “ordered him to
be turned over to the kennel keepers, and the kennel keepers
seized and killed him.” “And from that time,” the chronicle
observes, “the boyars began to fear the Sovereign.” Yet nothing
further is known of the doings of the young Grand Prince until
1547. During that year Ivan married and exchanged the title of
Grand Prince for that of Tsar. Then another dark interval
follows until 1549. During the years 1549-1552 Ivan passed laws
and waged war. In 1553 he fell gravely ill and quarreled with
his boyars and “from that time there was enmity between the
Sovereign and his people.” The second half of the 1550s again
grows dark, and we know nothing of Ivan’s personal life. We know
a little only about his policy toward Livonia and of the
beginning of war with that country. In 1560 Ivan’s first wife
died, and Ivan himself underwent something of a change in
personality.
Accounts of the last years of Ivan’s life are filled with tales
of his atrocities and of the terror of the oprichnina. But these
accounts are almost exclusively the work of foreigners and
Kurbsky. Russian sources remain silent and limit themselves to
brief observations, such as that in 1574 “the Tsar put to death
in Moscow, on the Prechistaia Square in the Kremlin, many
boyars, the archimandrite of the Chudov Monastery, an archpriest
and many peo- pie of various ranks, and cast their heads into
the court of Mstislavsky.” But all these tales and references
are contradictory and quite imprecise. It is difficult to date
them, and they give rise to many misunderstandings, such as
those of which one reads in the works of Karamzin and later
historians. And there are few documents. Even the decree on the
founding of the oprichnina has not come down to us in its
original form. Thus it is impossible to reconstruct an exact
chronology or an authentic, factual account of the activities
and personal life of Ivan the Terrible. The historian encounters
series of years without a single reliable reference to Ivan
himself. What sort of “biography” can be written under such
circumstances? Where does one find the material for a proper
evaluation of his character? Under such circumstances one can
only venture conjectures that are more or less plausible and
that more or less conform to the testimony of the meagre
material that has survived.
An eighteenth-century historian,
Prince M.M. Shcherbatov, in his History of Russia,
“having studied the history of this sovereign,” came to the
conclusion that Ivan “seems to have so many sides that he often
appears to have been more than one man.” Captivated by the
contradictions of his sources, this historian transferred those
contradictions to the character of his hero. He found it
impossible to refrain from guesses and deductions in his attempt
to explain some of Ivan’s personal qualities. He remarked of
Ivan, not without wit, that “he who bears autocratic power and
yet is also timid and base in character necessarily breeds
anger, distrust and grim vengeance.” Beyond this Shcherbatov
would not venture. Having indicated Ivan’s shortcomings, he
contrasted them with his “shrewd and far-seeing intelligence”
and saw in this anomaly the internal contradiction and duality
of Ivan’s character.
In his History of the Russian State Karamzin expressed
the same view of Ivan, albeit with greater literary skill. He
was fascinated by the idea of describing the age in which Ivan
lived. “What a glorious character for an historical portrait!”
he wrote of Ivan to Nikolai Turgenev. The somber drama of those
times struck Karamzin as entertaining from the literary point of
view, and he depicted it with great artistic effect. But, like
Shcherbatov, he failed to capture Ivan’s character, even though
he, too, tried to understand him “through speculation.” “Despite
all attempts at speculation,” Karamzin wrote in his History,
“the character of Ivan, who was a model of virtue in his
youth and a vicious blood-sucker during the years of his manhood
and old age, is a riddle to the mind.”
Karamzin attempted to solve this riddle by relying upon
Kurbsky’s interpretation that Ivan always lacked intellectual
independence and surrendered to the influence of those around
him. He was virtuous when “he was guided by his pair of chosen
favorites—-Silvester and Adashev,” but declined morally when he
drew closer to depraved favorites. He appears to have been “a
mixture of good and evil” and combined seemingly incompatible
qualities: “a first-rate intellect” and a “rare memory” with the
savageness “of a tiger” and “shameless slavishness toward the
most vile lusts.” Although Karamzin constantly lashes out at the
contradictions in Ivan’s nature, he nevertheless fails to supply
the key to explaining these contradictions and leaves the riddle
unsolved in his own mind. His portrayal of a subservient
sovereign who was susceptible to outside influences would have
been complete, had Karamzin admitted in his work that Ivan had
been an intellectual non-entity. But this he could not do, for
Ivan always impressed him as “the phantom of a great monarch”
who was “energetic,” “untiring” and “often shrewd.”
Karamzin set forth his “riddle”
with remarkable picturesqueness and eloquence. Under his
artistic pen Ivan’s era came to life and was read with great
enthusiasm. It was natural that others, using the material
presented in Kararnzin’s History, should attempt to
construct an even more realistic and subtle depiction of Ivan
than that prescnted by Karamzin himself. The Moscow Slavophiles
made such an attempt during their discussions of Ivan’s
character within their literary circle. The fruit of their
judgments Konstantin Aksakov and Yury Samarin cornmitted to
print.’ In his work on Stefan Yavorsky and Feofan Prokopovich,
Samarin summarized it in a few words: Ivan’s “mystery lies
within his soul, which marvelously mixed vital consciousness of
all the shortcomings, evils and vices of that century with
impotence and inconstancy of will.” Ivan’s “terrible
contradiction” between his superior intellect and his weak will
is the basic characteristic that explains his entire nature.
Aksakov made a more complete
evaluation of Ivan, although he began from the same viewpoint as
had Samarin. “Lack of will and an unbridled will are one and the
same,” he said of Ivan and pointed out that “Ivan’s ruin” and
moral downfall occurred when he “cast off from himself the moral
bridle of shame” and became addicted to capriciousness, thereby
exposing himself to evil influences. Weakness of will, coupled
with the strength of a sharp intellect, was one of Ivan’s basic
features. But another trait was just as fundamental to him.
“Ivan IV was the very nature of art, come to life,” Aksakov
said. Ivan’s soul was dominated by images and conceptions that
attracted him by their beauty and compelled him to love them and
to translate them into reality in his own life. Not cold, sober
thought but the quest for beauty and lofty artistic meaning
dominated Ivan and drove him to commit the most savage and
meanest of his deeds. There tisti fore we find in Ivan that
“there were many motivations in his soul,” and these complicated
his spiritual nature.
The attempts by the Slavophile school to develop Karamzin’s view
and to give it greater integrity marked the beginning of a long
line of artistic reproductions of Ivan’s character. After the
Slavophiles we encounter Kostomarov, who dealt with Ivan more
than once in his popular works. Then came Count Aleksei Tolstoi,
with his The Silver Prince and The Death of Ivan the
Terrible. The impressions they created became popular. And
when Antokoisky, Repin and Vasnetsov embodied this view in
precise portraits, everyone began to feel that Ivan had be come
understandable and obvious, that everything about him could be
understood through psychology and pathology Ivan’s extraordinary
refinement of cruelty, the fickleness of his moods, his wedding
of a sharp intellect to an obviously weak will and his
inclination to succumb to outside influences—all these traits
attracted pathologists to Ivan. As a result, a sizable medical
literature dealing with Ivan was gradually created. N.P.
Likhachev has attentively studied and interpreted this
literature. To the historian using the scientific critical
method all of this literature seems unscientific, its diagnoses
capricious and based on facile and completely groundless
conjecture. There is no reason to believe these doctors who,
three hundred years after the death of their patient and on the
basis of unverified hearsay and opinions, diagnose him as
“paranoid,” “a degenerative psychopath” possessed of “violent
mental derangement” (mania furibunda) and “delirious
notions” and who generally lead us to pronounce Ivan a sick and
completely irresponsible individual.
A conclusion of this sort is the
natural conclusion of the scientific-literary school which, in
studying Ivan’s era, restricts its concern to the central figure
of that period and seeks in the character of its central figure
the key to understanding that historical moment in all its
complexity. Men are generally inclined to declare meaningless
that which they cannot understand and to consider abnormal
whatever strikes them as strange. Cognizant of this human
weakness, Kostomarov wrote of Ivan that “he assuredly was not
stupid,” at a time when his contemporaries were considering Ivan
“a man of miraculous intelligence.” Although physicians have
regarded Ivan a mad degenerate, Ivan’s fellow Russians
considered him a great political force, even during the last
years of his life. A sensible historical method patiently seeks
clues to the incomprehensible and explanations of that which is
strange; without forming hasty and irrevocable conclusions, it
searches for new ways to interpret phenomena that do not yield
readily to research.
The Russian public was first exposed to a correct historical
method by the representatives of the so-called
“historical-juridical” school, led by S.M. Soloviev. Soloviev
brought to the study of Ivan’s activities his own basic idea
that the historical life of the Russian people follows a
continuous line of development in which the historical life of
the Russian people embodied the entire process of the
development of the patriarchal form of life into state forms.
Soloviev wished to determine the role played by Ivan in this
process. Soloviev saw Ivan as a positive figure who was the
bearer of the state “principle” in the life of his people and
the opponent of the obsolete “appanage and veche”
system.22 Ivan grasped the problems of his times ‘, better than
did those contemporaries who were more conservative. He forged
ahead, while those around him were stifled by old traditions. He
had a state program and —- sought broad political goals. One
need not hide Ivan’s personal weaknesses, shortcomings and
vices; but it must be remembered that these do not constitute
his historical significance. Ivan’s domestic reforms and foreign
policy make him a great figure in history. The historian cannot
understand him otherwise.
Soloviev’s viewpoint was adopted by his entire schoobTh An
extreme, artificial idealization of Ivan was perpetrated in an
article by Soloviev’s contemporary, K.D. Kavelin.23 i Kavelin
depicted Ivan as “great,” considered him a precursor of Peter
the Great and lamented that Ivan had been ruined by his
environment, which was “dull,” “inane,” “indifferent and
apathetic” and devoid of “any spiritual concern.” In his
fruitless struggle against this environment Ivan perverted his
“grand designs,” while he declined in his personal morals
because of his fatal failure to change this environment.
Kavelin’s hyperboles, of course, were not accepted by the entire
historical-juridical school, but the notion that Ivan could be
compared to Peter the Great was developed further. In his
detailed article, “Some Comments on the Poetic Representations
of the Character of Ivan the Terrible,” K.N. Bestuzhev-Riumin
resolutely promoted this comparison and drew a parallel between
“our two great historical characters: Peter the Great and Ivan
Vasilievich the Terrible.” According to Bestuzhev-Riumin’s view,
they were “two men of identical character, identical goals and
almost identical ways of achieving those goals.” The main
difference between them was that one succeeded in realizing his
aspirations, while the other failed. Bestuzhev also saw a
parallel between their respective foreign policies, and
especially compared their striving for the Baltic Sea. Bestuzhev,
like other historians of this school, paid scant attention to
Ivan’s personal characteristics and vices. These traits should
be mentioned but should not be allowed to determine the
portrayal of an epoch of history or the evaluation of the
central figure of that age.
Thus by the 1880s there were two
schools of thought concerning Ivan and two ways of evaluating
him. The subsequent development of historiography has not
abolished either school of thought but has obviously exalted the
one that neglected the personal characterization of Ivan and
strove to evaluate him as a statesman and as a political force.
The scientific method employed by
the historical- juridical school exercised a powerful influence
upon the development of the science of Russian history. Works by
Russian historians began to grow in quality, as well as in
volume. For the first time direct use was made of archival
materials, especially those dealing with the Muscovite period.
During the last decades of the nineteenth century and at the
beginning of the twentieth a number of themes dealing with
events at the time of Ivan the Terrible were taken up and were
developed scientifically. Personal appraisals of Ivan were not
allowed to influence the investi- gation of these themes. Such
studies sought to reach an understanding of the governmental
mechanism and social structure of Russia in the sixteenth
century and to gain a clear appreciation of the domestic crisis
which the Great Russian people had recently survived, This
scientific work was successful. The main historical sources of
the period were studied—collections of chronicles, cadasters and
official material that had survived fires and other
catastrophes. The renowned “reforms of local government” [zemskie
reformy] that took place during the 1550s, it was learned,
had been launched gradually, and their mutual connections and
consequences were discover- ed. The financial system of the
Muscovite state during the sixteenth century was revealed. The
true nature of the oprichnina was determined. The activities of
Muscovite authorities in defense of the southern boundaries of
the state were studied, as well as the related question of the
colonization of the “Wild Field.” The composition, structure and
way of life of the service class’ were clarified. Much was
explained concerning the process by which the peasantry was
bound to the land and by which various categories of slavery
developed. The real dimensions of the disorder that affected the
populace were clarified, as well as the outcome of that
disorder—the depopulation of the center of the state. Moreover,
the entire “Baltic Question” was studied, as well as all the
peripeties of the international struggle for Livonia and the
Finnish coast.
Our knowledge of the historical material of this period became
so much more complete and certain that the entire history of the
reign of Ivan the Terrible had to be reconstructed. One can only
be amazed at the vast difference that appeared, in the span of a
single generation, in the treatment of this era in the
universities. How little the lecturer of the nineteenth century
(or, to be more precise, of the 1870s and I880s) could offer his
audience concerning Ivan the Terrible can be seen in the
History of Russia of N.K. Bestuzhev-Riumin, who was, in his
day, a first-rate professor. How the same material is presented
today can be seen by comparing any academic textbook of Russian
history, such as V.0. Kliuchevsky’s Course of Russian
History. 2 The enrichment of this era by new and valuable
material cannot help but affect our understanding of Ivan
himself, his personal role and his personal capabilities.
There is no longer the slightest doubt that Ivan, who received
his education and developed his intellectual interests in the
company of the Metropolitan Macarius was one of the best
educated men of his age. Nor can there be any doubt the 1550s
were a complete system of measures that encompassed many sides
of Muscovite life: local administration, including
diversification of the forms of self-government and regulation
of the service class and of service tenure landholding; the
organization of taxation, along with better maintenance of the
service people and improvement of the service they rendered;
military organization; ecclesiastical and social concern; the
production of books and much more. Today no one disagrees that
Ivan’s Livonian War was a well-timed intervention into the
international struggle for the right to use the Baltic sea
lanes, which were of paramount importance to Russia. We no
longer hold the old view of the oprichnina, that it had been the
senseless venture of a haif-witted tyrant. We now see that it
was the application to the great landed Muscovite aristocracy of
the same kind of “removal” that the Muscovite authorities often
used against the ruling classes of lands they had conquered. The
removal of these great landowners from their “patrimonies”31 was
accompanied by fragmentation of their holdings and reassignment
of their lands to the conditional use of petty service people.
Thus the old nobility were destroyed and a new social stratum
was developed, the deti boiarskie,32 who were
oprichniki in the service of the Great Sovereign.
Moreover, there has come to light an important and interesting
aspect of the work carried on by the Muscovite government during
the most dismal and darkest period of Ivan’s life, the years of
his political reverses and domestic terror. This was the concern
of the government to strengthen the southern border of the state
and to settle the “Wild Field.” Under pressure from many sides,
Ivan’s government initiated a series of coordinated efforts
aimed at defending its southern frontier and, as always, showed
broad initiative, business-like energy and the ability to
coordinate the efforts of the administration with the assistance
rendered by local authorities. The old notion that the last
years of Ivan’s life marked a period of despondent inertia and
mindless savagery faded away, as there unfolded before
historians the picture of Ivan pursuing his customary
wide-ranging activities.
Finally, when the causes and course of the social crisis that
led to the devastation of the center of the Muscovite state by
the 1 580s were explained, Ivan personally was cleared of the
charge that, because of his alleged cowardice and worthlessness,
he allowed his gifted enemy, Stefan Bathory, to triumph over
him. It happens that the crisis developed so rapidly that Ivan
was deprived of all the resources needed to continue the
struggle and that in this instance Ivan hardly could have
exerted personal influence over the course of events.
In short, every success, however
limited, in studying this era has tended to enhance Ivan’s
stature as a politician and a ruler, while the question of his
personal traits and shortcomings has grown less important for a
general understanding of his times. Study of Ivan’s governmental
activity presents the historian with a broad and complex picture
that has the same features for the beginning and the end of
Ivan’s reign. The men around Ivan changed and their influence
upon him may have changed, and Ivan himself may have lived
virtuously or viciously. Yet for all this the characteristics of
Muscovite policy during his reign remained constant. That policy
was always broad in its dimensions and was distinguished for its
daring initiatwe, broad conceptions and energetic implementation
of planned measures. Clearly Ivan himself was responsible for
these features; they did not originate with Silvester, nor did
they pass away with Basmanov and Maliuta Skuratov.33 And Ivan
was the same person during the second period of his reforms,
when the oprichnina destroyed the agrarian-class structure, as
he had been during the earlier period, when hehad reformed the
Church and local administration. Ivan was a powerful force in
Russian politics.
Everyone who familiarizes himself
with the entire body of new research on the history of the
sixteenth century in Russia gains this same impression. The
latest historian of Ivan the Terrible, Professor R. Yu. Wipper,
begins his work on Ivan with precisely this attitude toward his
subject. But having used everything that recent Russian
historiography has to offer him, Wipper adds something of his
own. At the beginning of his study he presents a general
characterization of the sixteenth century as a turning-point in
the eternal struggle between “nomadic Asia” and “the Europeans,”
a point when the latter began to realize success in this
world-wide struggle. From this universal historical viewpoint
Professor Wipper offers an appreciation not only of Muscovite
policy in the sixteenth century but specifically of Ivan
himself. “As part of the new political world of Europe, he
wrote, “the Muscovite government had to develop military and
administrative skills, as well as dexterity in strategic
warfare. Tsar Ivan, his collaborators and his followers
continued to play their difficult role with dignity.” In
recording the activity of sixteenth-century Russia against the
background of the general course of political life in Europe and
Asia, Wipper is not chary in his praise of Russian political and
military expertise of this time and regards Ivan a major
historical figure. Professor Wipper’s book can be called not
only Ivan’s apology, but his apotheosis. Even when Ivan is
appraised apart from his own national history and is set against
an international backdrop, Wipper shows that he was an extremely
important figure.
This is the latest word that our historical
literature has to offer concerning Ivan. We can no longer regard
Ivan’s character with contempt. But perhaps the scales have
shifted somewhat in the opposite direction; scholars now face
the task of striking an exact balance between the extremes of
the subjective evaluations portrayed above. The present study
will not presume to play the role of umpire between these
various opinions of Ivan the Terrible.
Its objective is to present the
“image” of Ivan that was formed in the author’s mind during his
study of the most significant historical material of the period
under discussion. In a brief essay many things must he stated
superficially or even passed over in silence. But the author
will be gratified if his reader derives from this work a firm
appreciation of the great moments of the life and work of Ivan
the Terrible, as well as of certain undeniable and verified
features of his character and his mind. The author has no
pretention [ sic. Engl. styl.] of recreating a complete
characterization of Ivan or a finished likeness of the man, for
he believes it quite impossible to do so.
Richard Hellie, “In Serch
of Ivan the Terrible” ( Introduction to S. F. Platonov’s
main work on Ivan Vasilievich, Ivan the Terrible,
1974)
The reign
of Ivan the Terrible has proved to be one of the most
enduringly fascinating periods of Russian history.
Relatively little documentary evidence survives from the
years of Ivan’s life—he was born in 1530 and reigned between
1547 and 1584—but enough is extant to permit the creation of
an interesting narrative. S.F. Platonov’s study sums up the
pre-revolutionary knowledge of that era and represents a
superb attempt to offer a rational explanation of the
policies and actions of Ivan the Terrible.
Sergei
Fedorovich Platonov (1860-1933) was the representative par
excellence of the St. Petersburg school of Russian
historiography. The members of this school based their
historical interpretations on “facts” rather than on a broad
understanding of the nature of the historical process. This
school, some of whose other members were K.N.
Bestushev-Riumin (1829-97), A.S. Lappo-Danilevsky (1863-
1919), V.1. Sergeevich (1835-1911), A.E. Presniakov
(18711929) and N.I. Kostomarov (1817-85), stands in contrast
to the Moscow “state” historical school represented by K.D.
Kavelin (1818-85) and B.N. Chicherin (1825-1904), and their
successors S.M. Soloviev (1820-1879), V.0. Kliuchevsky
(1841-1911) and P.N. Miliukov (1859-1943). The historians of
the Moscow school tended to fit the facts to a broad
framework of historical development initially derived from
the theories of the German philosopher, G.F. Hegel. The
latter approach to the writing of history was rejected by
the members of the St. Petersburg school, who refused to
fill in factual lacunae with guesses, and abstained from the
elaboration of grandiose historical schemes.
Sergei Platonov is perhaps most noted for two things: his
supervision of the publication of vast numbers of documents
on early modern Russia, particularly in the Russian
Historical Library, and his monumental study, published in
1899, of the Time of Troubles. This turbulent period of
Russian history Platonov dated from the death of Ivan IV in
1584 to the inauguration of the Romanov dynasty in 1613.
Consequently his present study of Ivan the Terrible serves
as an historical prelude to his survey of the Time of
Troubles.
Platonov, the grandson of
a serf, was born on June 16 (28) 1860. He completed studies
at St. Petersburg University in 1882, and after 1889 he was
a professor at this institution. There he directed the
department of Russian history, succeeding his mentor, K.N.
Bestuzhev-Riumin, an historian with a positivist outlook,
who had died two years earlier. Although he was to become a
leading light in the St. Petersburg school of history,
Platonov acknowledged the influence of both Soloviev and
Kliuchevsky in the formation of his own historical
perceptions. Thus, like Soloviev
and Kliuchevsky, Platonov underscored the role of material
forces, geography and climate, in history and he also
stressed the military role of the state.
On the other hand, he was
not a determinist. Rather he tended to de-emphasize the
place of moral forces in history. Himself fundamentally a
positivist, he showed little interest in philosophies of
history and found no interpretive role for the writer of
history. Instead he was concerned with determination of the
scientific laws or regularities responsible for historical
events. Like the members of the state historical school,
Platonov inclined to view power, in this instance the
monarchy, as the primary agent in the constitution of
society. When he set about studying the late sixteenth
century, an era when various social classes appeared to
prompt the state power, this orientation generated
difficulties for him. It was also typical of Platonov that,
while he accorded considerable attention to the
personalities of rulers, he nonetheless joined many other
Russian historians in taking little account of the
complexities and subtitles of international relations.
In 1888 Platonov defended his master’s dissertation, “Old
Russian Tales and Stories about the Time of Troubles of the
Seventeenth Century as an Historical Source.” This work was
published for the first time that same year. As his doctoral
dissertation, Platonov in 1899 presented his magnificent
“Essays on the History of the Time of Troubles in the
Muscovite State in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries,”
which appeared in three editions prior to the Revolution,
and again in 1937 in the Soviet Union. Platonov’s major
shorter but important historical writings were anthologized
in Articles on Russian History (1883-1912). The most
singular achievement of Platonov’s career was his account
of the Time of Troubles. The volume treating this era
published in 1899 will remain a classic work of history. To
contemporaries, however, perhaps Platonov was better known
and more influential because of his textbooks. His Textbook
of Russian History, used in secondary schools in Russia, saw
many printings, and remained in use among Russian emigrés
after the author’s death. I myself have an edition published
in Buenos Aires in 1945. An abridged English translation of
this textbook was published in 1928, and reissued in 1964 by
University Prints and Reprints (now Academic International
Press). At present it continues in use at several American
colleges and universities. Equally influential was Lectures
on Russian History, read for a quarter century at St.
Petersburg University and published in ten editions between
1899 and 1917. These popular textbooks, notwithstanding
their strongly monarchist bent, helped to shape the outlooks
of two generations of Russian students.Perhaps the influence
of Platonov’s propensity for factual presentation survives
among the Leningrad historians of today. Their work remains
notably less schematic and dogmatic than that of their
Moscow counterparts, the successors of the ideological
“state” historical school.
Platonov was honored by two Festschrifts: To Sergei
Fedorovich Platonov: Pupils, Friends, and Admirers (1911,
reprinted 1970) and Collection of Articles on Russian
Dedicated to S.F. Platonov (1922), which begins a list of 98
of Platonov’s works.
After the Revolution Platonov published a number of shorter
works. Besides the work presented in translation here,
issued in 1923, in 1921 he published a short biography,
Boris Godunov (published 1973 in English translation by
Academic International Press), treating a central figure in
the Time of Troubles. Next, he wrote a transitional article
on the development of serfdom with the title “On the easily
convey Time and Measures of the Binding of Peasants to the
Land more varied in Muscovite Russia” (Archive of the
History of Labor in Russia, 1922, Book 3). In this essay he
attempted to reconcile the old “nondecree interpretation”
of enserfment with and phrases recently discovered evidence
pointing to active state involvement in this process. Then,
in 1925, he published Moscow and the West (printed in
English translation in 1972 by Academic International Press)
wherein he discussed Russia’s return to Western civilization
in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, after the
“detour to the East” during the Mongol conquest.
Even though he was a conservative monarchist, Platonov
continued to hold important posts under the new Soviet
government. He was head of the Archaeographic Commission
(1918-1929), director of the prestigious Push- kin House of
the Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Russian Literature
(1925-29), and director of the library of the Academy of
Sciences (1925-28). Ultimately these positions contributed
to his downfall. Notwithstanding his prestige, Platonov was
removed from his posts at the beginning of the Stalin
Revolution. He was accused of illegally keeping archival
materials of great state importance, including the
Abdication Act of Nicholas II. Subsequently it was alleged
that he had been part of a monarchist plot to overthrow
Soviet power and place Grand Duke Andrei Viadimirovich on
the Russian throne. The great literary critic and genius,
R.I. Ivanov-Razumnik, reported seeing Platonov after his
arrest. The dean of pre-Soviet historiography had been
subjected to utter humiliation. Thereafter Platonov was
exiled to Samara (now Kuibyshev) on the Volga, where he
died.
It should be mentioned that Platonov, while not considering
himself a great literateur, was a master of the Russian
language. The art of Platonov’s writing style is not easily
conveyed in translation. His lexicon was far richer, more
varied and more specific than that of any Soviet historian
of whom I am aware. In addition, his writing is
distinguished by the frequent and telling inclusion of terms
and phrases drawn from the period under examination. These
are extremely difficult to render into modern Russian, not
to say English. That the translator has succeeded so well in
this treacherous task is a tribute to his skill.
In writing Ivan the Terrible, Platonov made exemplary use of
the documentary evidence then available, and he relied
heavily on primary sources. One of the major documents he
employed was the “correspondence” between Tsar Ivan and a
renegade military deserter, Prince Andrei Kurbsky.
Platonov’s text carries recurrent quotations from this
exchange. Therefore the reader should be aware that Edward
Keenan of Harvard University, in his recent The
Kurbskii-Groznyi Apocrypha, has endeavored to demonstrate
that the “correspondence” between Ivan and Kurbsky is a
forgery contrived between approximately 1623 and 1675 by
several authors. If Keenan is right (according to R.G.
Skrynnikov, a prominent student of Ivan’s rule, the Keenan
thesis lacks scientific substantiation), Platonov’s extracts
from the ‘correspondence” do not serve to illus- trate what
he thought they did. However, while Keenan seems to be on
solid ground (although a computer study of the language of
these materials would be desirable), as I have argued in a
review in the Journal of Modern History, the exchange in
question is not an essential source for Ivan IV’s reign. To
be sure, this correspondence brilliantly illuminated a
dramatic conflict at a rich historical moment. But our image
of that time and place will not be significantly altered by
the demise of the correspondence. Most of what was cast into
sharp relief by the fire of the ex- change is still there,
but is simply more troublesome to find without its light.
Moreover, the “letters” of Ivan and Kurbsky ultimately may
prove to be helpful secondary sources. Others, of course,
may disagree with these judgments. Because of the sparseness
of primary sources, Ivan’s reign always has been the object
of diverse and essentially incompatible interpretations. All
readers of Russian history should be aware of the varying
conceptual approaches to this era of Russia’s development,
for interpretation is the essence of history. The
rationality of Ivan’s actions, particularly during his later
life, and the role of his reign in Russian history, are the
basic interpretive issues involved, Arguments for the
rationality of Ivan’s actions were first advanced in the
eighteenth century by V.N. Tatishchev (1686-1 750). In
scattered remarks that partially pre-modern Russian
historian drew parallels between Ivan and his own
contemporary, Peter the Great. Tatishchev justified Ivan’s
policies on grounds that they strengthened monarchical rule.
Furthermore, he condemned as treason the actions of some
dissipated aristocratic magnates. The Oprichnina, which
began in 1565 as a separate court for Ivan IV with its own
army-sized palace guard and in time encompassed half of the
Muscovite state, Tatishchev viewed as a proper instrument of
state policy. Another historian, I.N. Boltin (1735-92),
noted that Ivan utilized the Oprichnina to liquidate the
magnates’ economic and political sources of power. Writing
in the nineteenth century, K.D. Kavelin perceived Ivan’s
actions as having clearly objective causes. The Oprichnina,
a corps of 6000 men, entailed an effort by the tsar to
create, on the basis of meritorious service and without
regard for social status by birth, a group of servitors
loyal to him. This new group would replace the hereditary
aristocracy as the major political force in the Muscovite
state. The formation of the Oprichnina, according to Kavelin,
completed a cycle in the Hegelian struggle between the
aristocracy and the state. Similarly, S.M. Soloviev observed
the Oprichnina as a necessary stage in the process of the
long struggle between the clan, personified by the
aristocratic boyars, and the state, which, in the sixteenth
century, finally triumphed. Adhering to Hegel’s principle
that all that is real is rational, Soloviev endorsed the
despotism of Ivan’s reign, particularly the struggle of the
tsar to strengthen the new middle service class at the
expense of the old boyar class. Platonov’s teacher, K.N.
BestuzhevRiumin, upheld views similar to those of Soloviev
when analyzing the role of the Oprichnina in the development
of state power.
The first historian to find feudalism in Russia was N.P.
Pavlov-Silvansky (1869-1907), who observed that the creation
of the Oprichnina involved large-scale confiscations of the
remnants of princely hereditary appanages. The political
influence of the princes, as a consequence, was effectively
undermined. Accordingly, Russia experienced an era of
transition, moving away from feudal political fragmentation
originating in the thirteenth century toward the formation
of a state structured along class lines, beginning around
the middle of the sixteenth century.
The appearance of Marxist historians in Russia in the years
before the Revolution injected a newer although no less
rationalist viewpoint into the study of sixteenth century
Muscovy. N.A. Rozhkov (1868-1927), despite his shift of
analytical focus away from what Marxists call the political
superstructure toward the economic base, arrived nonetheless
at views somewhat analogous to those of Paylov-Silvansky. In
Rozhkov’s reckoning, there occurred during the second half
of the sixteenth century the onset of the “gentry
revolution,” a transfer of power from the appanage nobility
of princes and boyars to the mass of gentry. The Oprichnina
comprised one of the episodes of this revolution, the origin
of which was an economic crisis wherein a money economy
crowded out the natural economy practised by the princes and
boyars, and forced an end to feudal relationships.
The first dean of Soviet historical studies, M.N. Pokrovsky
(1863-1932), proclaimed an even more startling thesis. He
maintained that the natural economy supporting feudalism
yielded to merchant capitalism, the political expression of
which was autocracy. Accordingly, the Oprichnina was nothing
less than an alliance of the bourgeoisie and the middle
service class landholders. The alliance was the end product
of a socio-political process begun long before ivan, a
process so mechanically inevitable and irresistible that the
play of personalities and moralities as agents of history
pale in comparison. Regrettably, the simplicities of this
historical interpretation conceal a certain internal
inconsistency. Were it true that the agrarian revolution,
the destruction of large patrimonial or manorial estates,
was completed in the first half of the sixteenth century,
then the Oprichnina was senseless, for it was assaulting an
already powerless enemy. Pokrovsky further insisted that the
Oprichnina represented a gesture of self-defense by Tsar
Ivan, an interpretation which violated the author’s Marxist
understanding of the impersonal causation of the historical
process. Trying to salvage something of his thesis by
grasping at straws, Pokrovsky also attributed the Oprichnina
to Russia’s failure in the Livonian War. The middle service
class (dvoriane), thwarted in its attempts to grab new lands
in the Baltic area, turned to the seizure of boyar lands.
Finally, echoing one of Platonov’s ideas, Pokrovsky
suggested that the Oprichnina also represented an endeavor
by the other partner in the alliance, the merchant
bourgeoisie, to seize control of the trade routes to the
West.
Soviet historians have continued to explain Ivan the
Terrible’s policies and actions as rationally motivated,
although with less elan than Pokrovsky. S.V. Bakhrushin
(1882-1 950), 1.!. Smirnov (1909-65), and R.I. Wipper
(1859-1954) all idealized Ivan and found in most of his
measures thoughtful steps necessary to the modernization of
Russia. A Soviet scholar writing today, A.A. Zimin,
continues this tradition in Reforms of Ivan Groznyi (1960)
and The Oprichnina of Ivan Groznyi (1964). The latter work
pictures the Oprichnina as needed to reinforce the state
against the threats to it posed by the appanage princes,
Novgorod (an independent republic until the 1470’s, brutally
sacked by Moscow’s troops in 1 570), and the Church (many of
whose leaders were executed).
(xviii)
Sergei Platonov’s Ivan the
Terrible should be read as part of this established and
continuing tradition attributing rational causality and
deliberate intent to Ivan’s measures and their consequences.
For Platonov, the Oprichnina represented a state reform
coldly calculated to demolish the economic and political
might of the descendants of the appanage princes (the
hereditary rulers of what often amounted to no more than
huge estates) and the boyars (the chief counsellors and
agents of the monarch). Both of these groups formed a
potential opposition to the centralizing propensities
exhibited by Moscow and its autocrat, Ivan IV. To replace
the old aristocracy as the beneficiaries and pillars on
which to rest the new unitary state, the monarch relied upon
the new middle service class, which provided most of the
cavalry archers, the mainstay of the Muscovite army at this
time, and the towns. The purpose of the Oprichnina was the
political annihilation of the dangerous princely class by
shattering its landholding, by replacing patrimonial forms
of landownership (votchina) with land- holding in return for
state service (pomestie) as the primary means of supporting
the expanding middle service class. Another aspect of this
political reconstruction involved the secularization of
church lands and their inclusion in the 0 richnina. Yet an
added reason for the creation of the Oprichnina may be found
in Platonov’s portrayal of the times of Ivan the Terrible.
He accounted for this strange institution in part as Ivan’s
reaction to the usurpation of his rightful authority by the
“chosen council” (izbrannaia rada). Pla- tonov did not think
that the “chosen council” was a regu- lar institution, but
rather the private circle of Ivan’s well- wishers. Other
historians have converted the “chosen coun- cil” into a
formal institution, an unwarranted assumption, as has been
shown by the American scholar A.M. Grobovsky.
(xix)
In this instance the
desire to invent an institution where none existed is
similar to the attempt to create a “Boyar Council.” The term
“chosen council” is found only in Andrei Kurbsky’s History
of Ivan IV, a work which Edward Keenan is convinced is
another seventeenth-century forgery. Be that as it may—the
term is not necessary for Platonov it was these people,
Ivan’s chosen advisers, who “set Ivan off” by their betrayal
during his illness in 1553 when they swore fealty to his
cousin, the appanage prince Vladimir A. Staritsky, instead
of to his own infant son, Ivan. Yet, for Platonov, the
entire matter of the “chosen council” was troublesome.
Because he could not define precisely the aspirations of the
members of the “chosen council,” his analysis lacked
complete scientific veracity. Dealing with imponderables
such as the “chosen council” was nothing like confronting
indisputable historical facts—the executions of princes and
transfers of land to new holders. Despite such problems, the
present translation is the most persuasive presentation
available in English representing the rationalist
interpretation of the reign of Ivan the Terrible.
But isn’t it also possible that the tyrant Ivan was in
actuality a madman whose actions defy any rational
accounting? Because of this very real possibility, some
historians have pictured the actions and reign of Ivan the
Terrible as the irrational, erratic rule of a pathologically
afflicted individual. Always the positivist, Platonov in
this late work remained convinced of Ivan’s rationality.
Still, the attentive reader will notice that he was at least
modestly seduced by the pathological explanation.
The pathological interpretation of much of Ivan’s behavior
also originated in the eighteenth century. M.M. Shcherbatov
(1733-90), an ardent defender of the gentry, condemned
Ivan’s autocracy and his replacement of the boyars in state
administration by officials of non-noble descent.
Shcherbatov looked upon Tsar Ivan’s oppression of the boyars
as a product of his unfounded suspicion of the nobility.
Similar views were held by N.M. Karamzin (1766-1826), who
observed that Ivan cut down boyars who did not oppose him
and who always had been allied with the monarch. There were
no plots against Ivan, and there could not have been, for
they existed solely in the confused mind of the tsar.
Vasily 0. Kliuchevsky (1841-19 11), the best known
nineteenth-century Russian historian, shared the
pathological view of Ivan. He believed that the ruler,
acting in the context of tensions between the autocracy and
the aristocracy, had torn apart a social fabric which was
becoming rewoven. The boyars did not threaten Ivan. Yet,
acting like an obsessively frightened man, he destroyed the
individuals he suspected of opposing him. In Kliuchevsky’s
reckoning, the Oprichnina was directed against men, not
against the prevailing system, and consequently it was
politically aimless. Nonetheless, the Oprichnina introduced
anarchy and shook the very foundations of the Muscovite
state.
For purposes of discussion and comparison, I shall try here
to make an abbreviated but convincing case for the
“pathological” interpretation. While Ivan’s reign consisted
of considerably more than the Oprichnina, I wish to focus
mainly on that because it has become the axis of
historiographic interest. Again, the reader will decide
which interpretation is more tenable.
The Oprichnina was one of the most bizarre episodes in
Russia’s entire history. Created in 1 565, within seven
years it encompassed half of the territory of the Muscovite
state, and included a palace guard of 6000 debauched
adventurers who massacred thousands of people. In 1571 the
Oprichnina army failed to prevent the Crimean Tatars from
burning Moscow, while the following year the army of the
Zemshchina (that part of Muscovy not a part of the
Oprichnina) defeated the Tatars. Thereupon Ivan closed down
the Oprichnina. Platonov, it should be mentioned, thought
the Oprichnina was not closed until 1584, when Ivan died. In
the observation of the Soviet historian S.B. Veselovsky
(1876-1952), Platonov was misled by the fact that the
records of the Oprichnina and Zemshchina were not integrated
after the split ceased to exist in 1572.
Ivan’s true interest in launching the Oprichnina remains
obscure. If indeed this measure helped to consolidate the
autocracy, it did so, according to R.G. Skrynnikov, the
author of The Beginning of the Oprichnina (1966), The
Oprichnina Terror (1 969) and other studies, in ways which
could not have been anticipated or planned. When initiatives
are inserted into a functionally integrated national system,
they often produce systemic consequences other than those
immediately intended. So it was with the Oprichnina. It is
difficult to understand why Ivan feared the old magnates.
Institutionally, the officials were appointed by the ruler
and served at his pleasure. They enjoyed only that official
identity which the sovereign conferred upon them. Nor did
they possess an organization of their own. The oft-cited
“Boyar Council” (Duma) is the figment of the imagination of
the nineteenth-century historians K.A. Nevolin (1806-55),
N.P. Zagoskin (1851-1912), and V.0. Kliuchevsky, a myth
still being perpetuated. As for the provincial princes, they
were too busy struggling for place (mestnichestvo), power,
and personal enrichment in Moscow to pose any collective
threat to the monarch. Even during the political chaos of
Ivan’s minority (1533-47) no group or individual ventured to
decentralize Muscovy or to diminish the institutional power
of the monarchy. Moreover, it has been shown that neither
the boyars nor the princes were attacked as a class.
Instead, only individuals and families suffered at the hands
of the oprichniki, and some were themselves Oprichnina
members. Survivors, when there were any, recovered family
properties after 1572. In addition, the Oprichnina seems not
to have been intended to create an autocratic monarchy based
on the middle service class cavalry archers. The evidence
available indicates that more of the pomestie (service
holding) lands were confiscated for inclusion in the
Oprichnina than were votchina (patrimonial) estates
belonging to the boyars and princes. Moreover, many members
of the middle service class were physically exterminated. As
for the Church, data now available show that Church
landholding increased in the years 1565-72.
In brief, that the Oprichnina was fundamentally a product of
Ivan’s warped mind is a thesis for which sufficient evidence
now exists. This offended Platonov’s positivist outlook, as
it does even some historians today. The present work is
replete with phrases hinting that Platonov himself was not
fully convinced by his own theory. He noted that Ivan
exhibited the attitude of a man in danger, one who feared an
imagined menace. There was no potential opposition to Ivan;
as Platonov put it, his power was not endangered. Ivan was
suspicious, he surrendered to fear and suspicion, and struck
out at all who seemed hostile and dangerous—nobles, ordinary
servicemen, churchmen, menials. His unceasing hunt for
enemies who were not resisting him inspired insane,
unnecessary terror. Typically, in his testament of 1572,
Ivan presented himself as persecuted. Yet, notwithstanding
these statements, Platonov went no further than to declare
that Ivan’s condition did not develop into a clearly defined
mental illness, that he was not insane.
(xxiii)
Presumably, this attitude
was based on Platonov’s unwillingness to grant the
irrational full entry into history. It rested also on what
must have been a definition of insanity considerably
different from what would be countenanced today. Platonov
insisted that Ivan was capable of feeling sincerely and of
functioning physically. By insanity, therefore, he
apparently meant a state of derangement in which the
afflicted foams at the mouth and is perpetually violent. By
more recent definitions of insanity, Ivan would appear to
have been a paranoid. The paranoid’s basic processing rule
of thought is that whatever threat can be conceived is to be
believed. Given the facts, it would be reasonable to
characterize the Oprichnina as a madman’s debauch. In this
light the following behavior of Ivan the Terrible is more
intelligible. In December 1564, Ivan left Moscow for
Aleksandrova, where he ordered an enormous fortress built.
Threatening to abdicate, he refrained from doing so when the
capital townsmen, agitated by Ivan’s agents, vowed to aid
him in liquidating his enemies. When the tsar returned to
Moscow in February of 1565, there to proclaim the Oprichnina
and to execute and deport his “enemies,” his beard and hair
had fallen out. [ Note there is no difference to what
Platonov describes is happening in his text]
R.G. Skrynnikov’s works delineate the ever-widening circles
of Ivan the Terrible’s suspicions and liquidations, as one
“case” led to another. Prior to the launching of the
Oprichnina at the beginning of the 1560’s, Ivan’s disgrace
had fallen on Silvester and Adashev. Before 1560 these men
had been leading members of the “chosen council.” They were
replaced by members of the Zakharin family of boyars, who
soon lost Ivan’s favor, and were followed by Boyarin A.D.
Basmanov, an old Moscow noble, who launched a reign of
terror against those Ivan suspected of disloyalty. The old
Moscow nobility, under Basmanov, were Ivan’s tools at the
outset of the Oprichnina, when the surviving members of the
“chosen council” and the descendants of the princes of
Vladimir-Suzdal were executed or exiled to Kazan province, a
region on the Volga recently conquered from the Tatars. The
leading member of the Vladimir-Suzdal nobility, A.B.
Gorbatyi, had defended Silvester, as had other members of
these ancient princely families. One of Gorbatyi’s younger
relatives, Prince A.I. Nokhtev, went to serve in the
Staritsky appanage, perhaps to escape from the oprichniki.
Although, in 1566, those who had survived exile to Kazan
were allowed to return and given back their now
irretrievably devastated estates, the economic power of
these princes was effectively undercut.
When the Assembly of the Land, a parliament-like body, was
convoked in summer 1566 to discuss the seemingly endless
Livonian War (1558-1 583), some of its members demanded an
end also to the Oprichnina and to its terrorism. For their
trouble, some of the protestors were executed. Evidently
this and other protests heightened Ivan’s suspicions,
provoking him to set in motion a second phase of the
Oprichnina. The landed areas of this state within a state
were expanded and so was the size of the corps of oprichniki.
Ivan built for himself a new castle in Moscow in 1 567 and
took residence there. Simultaneously, should his new keep
fail him, Ivan ordered over ten thousand workmen to build a
stone fortress in remote Vologda, where five hundred
arquebusiers stood guard day and night. He relocated his
treasury there. Obviously influenced by the Varangian legend
of the origin of the Riurikid dynasty told in the earliest
chronicles, Ivan related to foreign visitors that he was a
stranger ruling subject peoples and might be forced to flee.
For that eventuality, he directed the construction of a
fleet of boats in Vologda as a means of escaping to England.
On the other hand, like the Russian he was, Ivan also
bestowed the large sum of 200 rubles on the Monastery of St.
Cyril in Beloozero to pay for the building of a private cell
for himself should he desire to become a monk. In aggregate,
these acts hardly seem those of a person in full possession
of his faculties. Perhaps Ivan’s talk of abdicating led to
discussion of a successor. This was the background against
which the “Staritsky plot” evolved. Prince V.A. Staritsky
had been the candidate chosen to succeed Ivan during the
latter’s illness in 1 553. Staritsky remained a logical
choice during the era of the Oprichnina. For whatever
reason, the unfortunate Staritsky was arrested, and later
executed with other members of his family in October 1 569.
(The prince himself was compelled to drink poison.)
Apparently, while in custody, he denounced 1.P. Fedorov, a
powerful personage with the high rank of Equerry, who had
befriended early victims of the Oprichnina by providing bail
for them. Fedorov was murdered by the Oprichnina in
September 1568.
Somewhat earlier, in a
sermon delivered in March 1 568, Metropolitan Filipp
Kolychev, who had been advanced to his post as head of the
Russian Orthodox Church thanks to the support of his
relatives, the Zakharms, called for the curtailment of
repressions. In return, he was tried on fabricated charges,
removed from his post, and incarcerated in a monastery. Then
came the turn of Novgorod. In this “case” the central
figure, Boyarin V.N. Danilov, had been an associate of
Equerry I.P. Fedorov. The oprichniki descended on Novgorod
in 1570 to execute Danilov and all linked to him. As many as
4000 perished in this pogrom alone. Disturbed, Archbishop
Pimen of Novgorod, who had collaborated with the authorities
earlier in the trial of the Metropolitan Filipp, made his
feelings known, and was repaid with accusations of treason.
The Oprichnina leader, Basmanov, refused to participate in
the Novgorod terror, for which indiscretion he was denounced
for complicity with Pimen. Other prominent individuals,
including most of the previous leaders of the Oprichnina,
were linked to the “Novgorod treason case,” and executed in
July 1 570. The purging of the purgers in summer 1 570
signalled the third and last phase of the Oprichnina, which
was closed two years later, after the 1571 failure of the
Oprichnina army to defend Moscow from a Tatar sacking, and
in the following year the defeat of the Tatars on the Molody
river by the Zemshchina army, evidently induced Ivan to
terminate it. But the riot of bloodletting had not run its
full course. Later Ivan resumed his antics, and in September
or October 1575 temporarily renounced the throne in favor of
a Tatar of Kasimov, Simeon Bekbulatovich. and himself
became, nominally, a mere appanage prince of Moscow. This
farce, replete with executions as Ivan again feared for his
life, lasted eleven months. The last victim of the killing
can be considered to be Ivan’s own son, the
seventeen-year-old Tsarevich, Ivan Ivanovich. His principal
adviser had been a Zakharin, who may have planted discord
between father and son and, wittingly or not, brought on the
murder in 1581 of the son by the father.
Like Stalin’s terrorism
and purges, the Oprichnina was a product of a tyrant’s
paranoia. It destroyed
individuals feared by the ruler but only incidentally
changed, and then in unintended and relatively minor ways,
established political institutions. Although the
investigation department of the Oprichnina, under Maliuta
Skuratov and V. Griaznoi, manufactured the later and most
heinous “cases,” it was Ivan who ordered the investigations,
believed the results, and took vengeance on the accused. It
was he who ordered entire families exterminated, knowing
that more than death itself Muscovites feared not having
anyone to offer prayers for the dead. Thereupon Ivan sent to
monasteries lists of thousands of victims, together with
cash offerings for the saying of the prayers for the souls
of the deceased.
From available evidence it is reasonable to conclude that
Ivan was a classic paranoid. That the “correspondence”
between Ivan and Kurbsky possibly no longer can be
considered a primary source is unfortunate, for it is heavy
with relevant testimony. Even so, as a secondary source, it
serves to illustrate what the seventeenth century considered
to be a plausible portrait of Ivan. The evidence cited here,
together with that on record elsewhere, demonstrates that
Ivan made erroneous judgments about threats to him posed by
others, dangers which did not correlate to experience. This
is the basic feature of paranoia, a disorder of middle age
(3 5-50). Ivan was 35 to 42 years of age at the time of the
Oprichnina. Paranoia frequently occurs after the death of a
spouse, as seems true in Ivan’s case. The sadism,
debauchery, and sexual abuse institutionalized in the years
1565-1572 suggest erotomaniac expressions of paranoia. Today
the disorder seems to afflict particularly the more
intelligent, more educated elements of society. .‘ The
impressions of Ivan gained by numerous foreigners picture a
highly intelligent, knowledgeable individual. Obviously,
Tsar Ivan suffered most severe delusions of persecutions
and, correspondingly, he was intensely hostile, vigilant,
and suspicious.
It is a matter of record that Ivan repeatedly accused of
treason men to whom once he had been very attached. These he
attacked in anticipation that they might strike at him.
Furthermore, the tsar’s condemnation of the refusal of the
magnates to swear fealty to his infant son during his
illness in 1 553, a rational decision from their point of
view, might be termed a disordered retrospective
falsification. To these paranoid characteristics should be
added the clear signs that Ivan suffered delusions of
grandeur (per- haps not always of his own making). These he
displayed af-ter his coronation in 1547. They ranged from
willing inheritance of the mantle of God’s earthly
viceregent to his claim in diplomatic exchanges of descent
from the mythical Prus. The centralizing of all of Russia’s
cultural traditions in Moscow certainly must have fed these
aspects of Ivan’s paranoid tendencies. Equally indicative of
his infirm mental state was his craving of praise and
recognition (for example, his threatened abdication) and his
hypersensitivity to criticism (execution of critics of the
Oprichnina). Together these psychological characteristics
strongly suggest profound feelings of inadequacy, which came
out in Ivan’s apparently sincere thoughts of becoming a
monk. Finally, like the typical paranoid, Ivan utilized the
devices and institutions of his day in achieving his bizarre
wishes. Some examples of this were his abdication, the
establishment of a state within a state, his playing on the
popular image of the monarch, his temporal role and popular
authority.
To turn for a moment to
the operation of the Oprichnina, headed by Ivan as its lord,
it should be understood that this institution did not in
reality supplant or even du- plicate the state
administrative network. It did include certain
administrative bodies and officials: palace court offices
and their administrators, a treasury, a keeper of the seal,
and regional tax chancelleries (cheti) for revenue
gathering, P.A. Sadikov (1891-1942) showed that the cheti
were organized to collect the old “feeding” (kormienie)
revenues which had been paid to the centrally-appointed
provincial governors (namestniki) until abolished in
1555-1556. Then, for a brief interval, according to the
Leningrad historian N.E. Nosov, the right, to collect these
monies was sold for a flat fee to the provincial taxpayers
themselves. The creation of the regional tax chancelleries
was one of many steps in the second half of the sixteenth
century in the direction of the establishment of central,
specialized bureaux in Moscow, and was in accord with the
historical development of the period. Thus there was nothing
extraordinary in this innovation. In fact, given the
generally predatory nature of the Oprichnina, it is hardly
surprising that its sole institutional innovation was
connected with a form of popular exploitation, taxation.
With this exception, few if any administrative reforms were
introduced by the Oprichnina, nor were changes made in the
order or manner of government, diplomacy, or foreign policy.
Using primarily medieval forms, the Oprichnina may be
understood as a state within, or over, a state, at the
beginning of the early modern era.
In contrast, senior boyars
headed the Zemshchina and inherited, or rather continued,
most of Muscovy’s regular administrative machinery as it
existed in 1 564. These offices and officials, all directly
subservient to the monarch, comprised the Treasury, the
Keeper of the Seal, the Moscow Administrative-Judicial
Chancellery, the Service Land Chancellery, the Robbery
Chancellery, the Great Revenue Chancellery. The existing
Foreign Affairs and Military chancelleries continued to
function, in the Zemshchina, for both segments of Muscovy.
Apparently a single Post Chancellery, the marvel of Western
visitors to Muscovy, operated as usual. A joint Robbery
Chancellery existed to prosecute felons when one party was
subject to Zemshchina administration, the other to the
Oprichnina.
There were several
important ways in which this incredible product of Ivan’s
diseased imagination sapped the strength of Muscovy. It is
clear that the Oprichnina debauch contributed to Moscow’s
conspicuous lack of success in the Livonian War. More
telling was the blow the Oprichnina (in conjunction with the
Livonian War) delivered to Muscovy’s productive capacities
and general level of economic development, which the late
Soviet historian D.P. Makovsky termed, perhaps with some
exaggeration, “pre-capitalism.” Furthermore, enserfment
advanced both during and as a consequence of the Oprichnina.
The last remaining peasant free holdings (“black lands”) in
the Moscow region were assigned to oprichniki as service
land grants, abasing the affected peasant. Worse, the
oprichniki were granted, or perhaps usurped, the right to
treat and tax peasants in any way they pleased. This
contributed further to their abasement. The dislocations
produced by Oprichnina depredations caused crop failures and
epidemics, and stimulated peasant flight. [ Actually that
was the Tatar 1571-2 attacks in Platonov’s narrative]
Engendered thereby was the intense competition for peasant
tenants that marked the last years of Ivan’s reign. This
scarcity of labor was a primary cause of the introduction in
1581 of the “Forbidden Years,” a restriction which abrogated
the long- established right of peasants to leave the service
of a landholder or owner on St. George’s Day. These
developments, accelerating markedly the progress of
enserfment, flowed from the Oprichnina, even though they
were by no means what Ivan had intended in January of 1565.
Still a further result of the Oprichnina was the
extermination of many princes and boyars, fated to be
included among Ivan’s “enemies.” [ of course, this is the
weakening of the elite, the rational thought Hellie depicts
as Platonov’s weakness) Their already quite limited
influence now further diminished. Such collective power as
they had exerted institutionally as nearly exclusive
counsellors of the ruler was undermined as well by the
elevation of a few lowly-born state secretaries (diaki) to
the rank of counsellor state secretaries (dumnye diaki). The
withering of the power of the princes and boyars may have
been counterbalanced by a slight rise of that of the cavalry
archers of the middle service class (see my Enserfment and
Military Change in Muscovy for greater detail).
Central to the
pathological interpretation of Ivan the Terrible’s reign is
a full appreciation of the milieu which permitted the
flowering of so many bizarre happenings. First, there were
few other than certain natural restraints, such as
geography, tradition, and perhaps kinship structure, on the
Muscovite monarch. Continuing to use the terminology of
political science, there were almost no direct restraints on
the Russian monarchy: there was no constitution, no
tradition of the rule of law. One may attempt to explain
this, and particularly the seemingly total absence of
indirect, or institutional, restraints, by noting that
Russia did not experience those aspects of feudalism which
in the West gave birth to ideas about the pluralistic and
autonomous access of different groups to the major
attributes of social, cultural, and political life. In
Muscovy there were no city states, and the Russian medieval
political tradition did not bequeath to the sixteenth
century a feeling of dichotomy between state and society.
Early Russia did not develop notions of an autonomous class
society or the class consciousness characteristic of Western
Europe. The state tended to dominate society. These factors
contributed to and were expressed in the absence of indirect
restraints on Ivan the Terrible.
The Church could not restrain the monarch, for it had been
the state’s handmaiden for most of the time since its
introduction in 988, the date of the conversion of Russia to
Christianity. Ivan removed with ease any clergyman,
including the head of the Church himself, the metropolitan,
who opposed his actions.
The nobility was incapable of uniting to resist the
undertakings of the ruler. Professor Gustave Alef has
demonstrated that a population explosion had so swelled the
number of aristocrats and, because of the practice of
dividing inheritances equally, had so reduced their estates
in size that, hat in hand, as a matter of survival they
besieged Moscow, begging posts. The system of places
according to birth and rank (mestnichestvo) kept the nobles
at each other’s throats, fighting for place, post, and
spoils. It is nearly certain that no “Boyar Council” existed
which might have checked the monarch. The boyars themselves
were no more than the tsar’s creatures. The administration
of the Muscovite state, which incorporated executive,
legislative, and judicial functions in one organization with
one head, while just emerging from and still retaining many
characteristics of a palace household, naturally was a
malleable tool in the hand of its head, the tsar.
It should be remembered also that there was no gentry which
could coalesce against autocratic caprice. The middle
service class was not a gentry in the conventional
understanding of that term, but rather a group of 17,500 men
of varying and often indifferent social origin who served at
the behest of the monarch. Only so long as they served did
they hold their service lands (pomestie). Moreover, this
group of cavalry militia was of comparatively recent origin,
forming at the end of the fifteenth century. Reforms adopted
during Ivan’s reign allotted to them considerable authority
in local provincial administration. But little glory for
these servitors from the periphery and even less influence
on the center derived from this authority. Prior to Ivan’s
new arrangements, local administration was the province of
centrally directed provincial officials (volosteli, tiuny).
Nearly all of these officers were slaves belonging to the
governors (namestniki) appointed from Moscow. Consequently,
the middle service class dvoriane and deti boyarskie assumed
posts recently held by slaves. Although it is true that
these had been slaves with comparatively high prestige,
nevertheless they cannot have bequeathed to their successors
a tradition of standing up to the central authority. Not
until the middle service class acquired some of the status
and prerogatives once limited to the upper service class
boyars and princes did it dare attempt to improve its
standing. But this did not take place until the first half
of the seventeenth century when the monarchy was shaken by a
vast social crisis. In Ivan’s day the middle servitors
lacked status and power, and their loyalties were well
enough known by the Oprichnina investigation chancellery
that they could be sorted out for service as oprichniki or
in the Zemshchina.
Apart from the absence of direct and indirect restraints on
his will, Ivan the Terrible possessed another source of
power. This was the grip he had on the popular imagination
of Muscovy. As monarch he enjoyed among the Russian people
the sacred image of God’s earthly regent, one who spoke with
divine authority. And on this theme Ivan played brilliantly.
For example, when he journeyed to Aleksandrova to begin the
Oprichnina, ostensibly Muscovy was left without government.
Contrary to custom, a group of boyars was not named to
govern in the absence of the sovereign. The people of
Russia, awed by the image of the Muscovite sovereigns built
up by certain church officials since 1 500, cowed in terror
and, in the words of a chronicler, pleaded: “How can sheep
be without a shepherd?” The establishment of the Oprichnina
remedied this want. The popular notion of the autocrat as
the wise and protective shepherd rendered Muscovy’s
population inert and passive, and allowed Ivan to practice
unprecedented official barbarism. He, like his modern
counterpart, Stalin, experienced little difficulty in
finding a handful of savages Basmanov, Skuratov and Griaznoi,
the Muscovite counterparts of Yezhov, Yagoda, Beria and
Poskrebyshev of the 1930s and I 940s—who organized thugs and
cutthroats (Stallin’s NKVD cannibals were nicknamed
oprichniki) to terrorize and brutalize all suspected of
disloyalty by their paranoid master.
The pathological
interpretation here argued should be compared with
Platonov’s claim that the Oprichnina was not “a senseless
venture of a half-witted tyrant.” By carefully reading this
excellent translation the student of history can gain
stimulating insights into the relative significance of
geographical, institutional, and personal factors in the
pageant of sixteenth-century Muscovy.
Ivan has been of recent interest not only to historians. The
Soviet Ministry of Health publication Forensic Medicine (Sudebno-,neditsiFlSkaia
ekspertiza, 1969, No. 1; 1970, No. 2) reported on a recent
temporary exhumation of Ivan’s body from its limestone
coffin in the Cathedral of the Archangel in the Moscow
Kremlin by a special commission of the USSR Ministry of
Culture to conduct anthropological and chemical-
toxicological, as well as historical, studies. Ivan had been
buried in the woollen garb of a monk. His skull was small,
with a strongly developed relief, a low brow and
significantly projecting eyebrow region and chin. Judging by
the skeleton, Ivan the Terrible was about five feet ten
inches tall and must have possessed great physical strength.
With the exception of a strongly pronounced proliferation of
osteophytes, no pathological changes were manifested in
Ivan’s bones. The arsenic level was very low in Ivan’s
bones, so obviously he had never been poisoned with that.
The amount of lead was relatively high, probably due to
natural accumulation in the course of aging. The level of
mercury was also comparatively high, perhaps connected with
the use of medicines containing it; the possibility of acute
and chronic mercury poisoning from the use of these
preparations cannot be ruled out, the commission decided.
University of Chicago
-
Richard
Hellie, in Platonov, S. F., Ivan the Terrible,
trans. & ed., Joseph L. Wieczynski (Gulf Breeze,
Florida: Academic International Press, 1974), pp.
iv-xxxiv.
(xxx)
notes:
The system of transliteration
is basically that of the Library of Congress, with
modifications. Ligatures are omitted. The initial Russian
diphthongs are rendered as “ya” and “yu,” not as “ia” and “iu.”
Usually the Russian soft sign is omitted when it precedes a
vowel (e.g., diaki)
or changed to “i” (e.g.,
pomestie).
The endings of proper Russian
names are given as “y,” not as “i”
or "ii"
PREFACE: JOSEPH L. WIECZYNSKI.
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