Electronic History

In a Short Guide To Writing About History I was struck by Marius’ statement that history and the research/writing of history has changed significantly because of modern technology, but history as a whole (when you get down to the bare bones of the stuff) has remained essentially the same over time.  Even with modern technology at our fingertips that gives us an almost unlimited resource in terms of secondary sources, there is no replacing studying and handling a primary document, and, in a larger sense, technology is only a means to an end, not an end in and of itself. A historian cannot obtain a true appreciation or depth of understanding from technology; there is no substitute for sitting with and getting to know a primary source.

Tradition of the Coup

I saw a little blurb on the NYTimes.com website on Friday about a former Soviet intelligence officer recently jailed for organizing a coup of ultra-nationalists against the Russian government and assassination plot against the architect of the market reforms in 2010.  I thought it was interesting that Russia maintained this tradition of revolution, especially those stemming from a small group like the Blosheviks, even in the present day.

I researched a little about Russian nationalism in the modern world to find that it contains a resurgence of the “Russia for Russians” movement that aims to reverse some of the equality granted to citizens under the Soviet program.  Despite its super negative connotations, I was surprised at my ability to draw a parallel to a similar anti-immigration movement taking place in the United States in the wake of the financial crisis.  Without the insurance of a socialist program in Russia, some people are just as concerned as Americans about the threat immigrants pose to the already suffering domestic job market.

It is especially understandable for this to be the case in Russia, where the Soviet government forced a change and reorganization of national identities on its people.  The re-emergence of the nationalist party is possible an attempt to preserve the glory of Russia as its long-ago status of empire, but it is frowned upon with the same disdain that any attempt to convey national pride in England is, for example.  The fear of holding one’s country as supreme after the fall of imperial policy makes national pride for the larger power moderate and makes the national pride of the “victims” heightened.  Having grown up in America and having spent my fall semester in England, I was surprised to find that so many parallels could be drawn between these two western European countries and a “fallen” eastern empire that is always portrayed as the antithesis of the western ideals.

Here is the article:

Russia’s Hangover

In looking for something to blog about for this week I discovered an article titled “Russia’s Hangover: How to curtail a serious drinking problem?”. In the article, the author, Janet Davison of the Canadian Broadcasting Corportation (CBC) discusses how the Russian government has enacted a new law declaring that beer is an alcoholic beverage and not a food, which could theoretically limit its sales.

Upon first reading this subtitle, I was instantly confused, if not somewhat amused. I never thought of beer as a food, and seeing a law enacted just to declare something that seems so obvious struck me as slightly odd. However, through reading this article, I learned that imbibing in alcoholic beverages is something intrinsic to Russian life and culture, and in fighting a battle against alcoholism, the Russian government was essentially waging a battle against a psycological habit that has transcended centuries.

A quote that specifically epitomizes this theme was made by Yuri Leving, chair of the department of Russian studies at Dalhousie University in Halifax. He stated that “In Russia, the drinking culture has long been established and historically justified… No holiday is complete without a feast with the obligatory presence of a large amount of alcohol.” Leving also mentioned that “life in the Soviet Union and post-Soviet Russia has never been easy, and often the cause of addiction to alcohol can be explained by man’s desire to suppress strong emotions and escape from stress.”

When I read that line, I instantly associated it with the alcoholism problem with Native Americans in the United States. Similarily to the Russian situation, the Native Americans within American society have always had issues with alcoholism, or at least have been stereotyped as having these problems. History may have instigated the prevalence of alcoholism in the United States. Early demand, with no regulation and strong encouragement, may have contributed to a “tradition” of heavy alcohol use being passed down from generation to generation, which has led to the current high level of alcohol-related problems. The Russian population has a similar issue in that the government has never regulated alcohol in the country, and is only just acknowledging it as an issue. Drinking is not only legal, but also easily accessible and portrayed in a positive light. The problem, according to the article, lays in the very denial of a problem with alcoholism.

What I also found interesting in this article were the statistics used to argue just how intense this issue was within Russian society. According to the article, alcohol contributed to the deaths of about 500,000 Russians annually, and consumption was double the World Health Organization’s critical level. Interior Minister Rashid Nurgaliyev stated that, “In Russia, each person, including babies, accounts for about 18 litres of spirits per year. In the opinion of World Health Organization (WHO) experts, consumption of more than eight litres per year poses a real threat to the health of the nation. Russia has long exceeded this level.”

I think that in reading this article it would be interesting to see if this upward trend of alcholism was a worldwide trend. Especially regarding the current state of many national economies, it would not surprise me if the world as a whole was facing a problem with alcoholism. I remember reading at one point during my AP World History class sophomore year of high school that Russian soldiers during World War II were actually allotted alcohol daily. That only goes to show that alcohol within Russian society stretches back at least as far as World War II, certainly longer than that. I really am glad that I found this article to read. I might even see if I can do something along these lines for my final project. One of my only gripes about being at a school like Dickinson is that I constantly find myself disconnected with the outside world while on campus. Reading articles like this really is helping me to become more globally aware, and realize that the world is so much bigger than Carlisle, Pennsylvania.

 

Soviet Propaganda

The Soviet regime was masterful in the use of propaganda in order to further the support of their cause. One such example of this is the movie that we all recently watched, Chapaev. Chapaev tells the story of a Red Army commander during the Russian Civil war who was eventually ambushed and killed in the Ural River by White Army troops. This film was used by the Soviet regime as propaganda for many years to great success. Even today, Chapaev is viewed as one of the greatest films of all time and is shown all over the world.

Chapaev was a soldier who came from a peasantry background and had very little education. This was made apparent by his statement during the movie “It’s only been two years since I have learned to read.” Despite this, he was still able to advance in the military and escape his modest upbringing. This is exactly the kind of story that Soviet officials would want to promote. The Soviets believed that every man had his worth and by immortalizing a man such as Chapaev in a film, they were able to subconsciously promote this ideal in the people.

However, this film held many Soviet ideals other than the rise of the peasantry. Equality among the sexes was another Soviet ideal that was placed into the movie. In the beginning of the movie we are introduced to Anka, a woman that is attempting to learn how to work the machine gun. At first, she is not taken seriously by Petka, who makes moves that have nothing to do with operating a weapon. However, Anka eventually becomes proficient with the gun and is instrumental in repelling the Whites, as she realizes that she can inflict more damage by waiting for them to draw within reasonable range of fire. For this, Chapaev thanks and congratulates her, treating her as an equal among men. This idea of equality among the sexes was, at this time, a uniquely Soviet idea. In placing it in the movie, the Soviets succeed in showing one more way of how they are different from the capitalists.

So far, we have encountered Rakhmetov and Chapeav. Both are, in a sense, ideal revolutionaries. However, the two characters are extremely different. Rakhmetov relies entirely on his physical and mental well being in order to strive for success. He works out consistently, trains his mind through reading and exercise and fights nearly every carnal human vice (such as sexual desire). He is well read and comes from a mysterious yet somewhat affluent background. Chapeav, however, is illiterate. While he is also a revolutionary, he only recently began the process of learning to read. Indeed, he clearly represents a peasant class. The social differences are apparent between the two characters, yet they rely on themselves similarly. It is noted that Chapeav despises taking advice from others and regrets that decision nearly every time he does so. Like Rakhmetov, he warrants great respect from his peers but does not socialize with them in a classic or accessible sense.

I would be curious to see a “hybrid” character or rather a fusion of Rakhmetov and Chapeav. This character would, in my opinion, be the best revolutionary. They would have the struggle and perspective of a lower class citizen with the opportunities and learned mindset of an upper class citizen. Perhaps this hypothetical character would best understand the concept of leadership as he or she would be able to empathize with all sides through an academically and socially educated perspective. Leadership is crucial to a revolution and I would be curious to encounter a character such as this in historical or fictional readings in the future.

The Iron In Literature and Music

After reading We Grow Out of Iron and seeing Chapaev as well as clips from various movies in class, I have come to realize that the correlation between the two artforms in the aspect that they both the directions of “industrialization” themselves.  They both changed with the times and grew to reflect the ways of the working class people.

The literature, We Grow Out of Iron, took a more literal approach in the sense that it described the worker as becoming one with the machinery and with the metal itself. The iron is becoming one with the worker and the worker is in turn becoming one with the factory system.  In a way it was used to show how that Russia was finally becoming an industrial country but it also hinted at the fact that the workers were exploited in factories with terrible conditions and over crowding, thus they became one with the machines, one with the metal they worked.

The music of the time began to resemble the sounds of the factor.  With banging, sawing, hammering and other noises. These noises became popular soundtracks to movies depicting the revolution and industrialization. This music was used to emphasize the industrial evolution of Russia.  This even occurred in classical music where they began banging on symbols or gongs or even starting off pieces with single, repetitive notes.

So the popular artforms of this time began to merge together and started to depict the same frame of mind.  Russia had finally become an industrial country with the industry riding on the back of the newly established proletarian class.

The Winter of Our Discontent

When William Shakespeare wrote his time honored classic Richard III, he wrote his main character as a murdering, calculating, and almost maddened individual, a perspective popular with the droves that filled the Globe Theater to take in the royal play-write’s latest piece, but more importantly, a perspective that would please Her Majesty and her Tutor court. While reading Tey’s treatment of the same man, I could not help but think of the importance of perspective when telling a story and the tendency of an audience to believe what they want to believe rather than finding facts on their own. I myself fell victim to a Shakespearean perspective with regard to the final king to be born of the House of York.

The more I read of Tey’s novel the more clear it became that I had never looked at King Richard through the eyes of a historian, which hammered home the point of reading this novel and shows how examining Tey’s treatment of Richard can be useful in terms of a larger study of what it means to interpret and write history. I had always seen King Richard in the light that Shakespeare had cast him. Even in school when I first learned about the War of the Roses, my teacher presented Richard as a murderous hunchback with a chip on his shoulder and a score to settle with his brother. I never considered the perspective that Tey presents through Grant’s bedridden investigation, a perspective that paints Richard as a benevolent ruler, and (as we later find out) a man who in all likelihood has been tried, convicted and ultimately executed by history for a double murder that he may not have ordered. In addition to my own personal eureka moment in terms of perspective, I found Grant’s method of investigation to be exactly how history is supposed to be done.

Grant never settles for an account without substantiated evidence, nor does he ever stop asking the question that every historian should hold true to their heart: “Where did you get that information?” He looks at a number of different sources to form his opinion on poor King Richard, ranging from a copy of an old painting to Sir Thomas More’s personal account of Richard’s life. His use of a diverse grouping of primary and secondary sources shows a depth of investigation that is essential to writing good history. Grant took no fact for granted, which to me embodies the ideal historical attitude. The greatest lesson Tey taught me was not about an English Monarch who’s death came too soon, but rather about how to properly execute writing and in a larger, more significant sense, interpreting history.

Tey: History is Made By Those Who Follow

Tey attempts to portray Richard III in a positive light, I am a befuddled as to her avenue of approach. She uses the novel as a format from which she can critique prior histories of Richard without actually establishing a solid thesis. By not establishing a thesis, Tey is able to use a train of thoughts in an attempt to demonstrate Richard as he truly was. While this works wonderfully for an attempt at solving out a “conspiracy theory”, this does nothing to create an actual fact-based historical argument.

Tey does do a solid job, however, on the explanation on how history is shaped and why it is shaped in the ways that we see today. If Richard III was as benevolent as Tey establishes, the Tudor’s depiction of Richard as a murderous tyrant reverberates across a common thread in history: people are what those who follow portray them as. While children for the past hundred years or so have learned that George Washington was an excellent general or  Abraham Lincoln believed in the need for equality between white men and enslaved blacks, it is only because we who have followed in the footsteps of these men have painted them to be that way.

I must admit, having read the various pieces of historical fiction lying around in AHEC’s gift shop, that Tey presents her take on history in an interesting way. By using the detective figure, she can use police methodology to create an interesting chain of thought to “solve” what truly happened. But by using this, Tey also creates her biggest fault; deductive reasoning. With Grant trying to solve history as if it were a crime, his method of reasoning goes against even the basic historical principles. By creating history based on what he thinks must have happened in the missing spaces rather than using the documents to prove what happened in the spaces, Tey through Grant takes what may or may not have been a possible position on Richard III and ruins all of her credibility. But as a historical novel? Tey manages to deliver a solid reading experience sure to intrigue even those with no interest in Medieval England.

World of Art

Reading the Massie article assigned for today was particularly interesting for me because of the work I have been doing at my job in the college archives. A large number of books related to the World of Art movement were donated to the college by an alumni whose grandfather, Basil Troussoff, studied with Aleksander Benois, and worked as a painter and set designer in New York theater after he immigrated to the United States. The archives also hold a large amount of Basil’s personal papers, which I have been working on cataloging for the past year, culminating in an exhibit that will be on display very soon in the basement of the library.

Many of the books that were donated are exhibit catalogs from relatively unknown avant garde painters that whose work was displayed in Moscow in the from the late 19th century to the 1920’s. There are some by the more well-known painters as well, such as Aleksander Benois and Konstantin Somov. Many of the catalogs are also for exhibits of folk art from various regions of Russia. I originally thought this was a separate interest, but based on the focus of Russian roots and Russian identity in the principles of this movement, I now understand why Basil collected the books that he did. The archives also has an original copy of the publication World of Art, which showcased much of the work produced by members of the movement.

What I find especially interesting is that even though Basil was not participating in the same place as the center of the World of Art movement and even somewhat later, he still practiced the principals important to the movement, such as collaboration. Though he exhibited his own paintings, he focused on set design. Though he wasn’t working on such controversial pieces as the Rite of Spring, he helped to design sets in the studio of Joseph Urban, for performances by the Ziegfeld Follies and the Metropolitan Opera, important organizations in American theatre history.

Battleship Potemkin

On Wednesday I attended the film Battleship Potemkin. Before seeing this film I knew little about how the Russian Revolution began but after the viewing, I had a much greater understanding of what led up to the first Russian Revolution. I was quite shocked at how horrifying the conditions were for the low ranking men, while the officers were granted significantly higher standards of living. One scene in particular that showed this was the scene in which the sailors complain that the meat they are being served is rotten and infested with maggots. Despite the fact that the meat looks repulsive, the ship doctor says that the meat is perfectly fine and that the maggots were not anything to make a big deal about. Up until this point I had not realized the magnitude of the difference in treatment among the classes. As one of the sailors puts it “Russian POW’s in Japan are fed better than this.” This comment illustrates how many Russians felt they were not being adequately cared for by anyone in the government.

Another part of the movie that I found particularly interesting was how easy it was to sway the Russians into action against figures of authority. As the dissenters are about to be executed on the ship, Vakulinchuk yells to the firing squad “Brothers, who are you shooting?” This simple statement is all that these men needed in order to turn their weapons against their abusive officers. Later, when Vakulinchuk’s body is on display in the city, the masses are moved to action through the sight of this fallen hero, whose body lay with a sign that said “Killed for a bowl of soup.” It appears that by this point, the Russian people were so fed up with their government, that they only need a small spark in order to ignite, a spark that Vakulinchuk provided through his death. Although this revolution was deposed by the czars men, the killings of the masses only further served to spark the hatred and resentment of the government.

After seeing this movie, I understand how it could be such a powerful form of propaganda amongst Russians as it shows the incredible cruelty of the czars government, while at the same time advocating the rise of the masses against an oppressive power.