Slavophilia and Russian National Identity in Aksakov's Memoirs

Introduction: Defining Slavophilia and Russian Identity

Slavophilia is the love of "Mother Russia" that every true Russian feels for his native country. This love is not founded in any materialistic attachment to the country, but rather in the spiritual and natural goodness of the country — its morality, its religion, its land, its simplicity, and the virtues of its peasants. These concepts form the basis of the Russian national identity. It is a concept that is noble in spirit and the opposite of the self-interested, individualistic conceit found in other cultures. The Slavophile is rooted in the communal, collective experience — the native experience, the peasant experience, the basic and humble elementary aspects of life that give one spiritual joy because one is connected to an entire community — a national family — that is like one mystical body, akin to the mystical body of Christ within the Orthodox religion of Russia.

Essentially, the Slavophile celebrates the Russian family as the building block of Russian society and of Russian character. This is why a work like The Memoirs of the Aksakov Family can teach so much about the Russian soul and the noble ideals of the Slavophile. This paper shows how Slavophilia is defined and how Russian national identity is displayed in The Memoirs of the Aksakov Family.

Land, Family, and Community in the Opening of the Memoirs

The Russian life is bound up in the family and in the land — and this is the first sense one has when reading the opening of The Memoirs, as the first line states: "In my grandfather's estate, at Simbirsk granted to his ancestors by the Muscovite Czars, everything grew abundantly…" (1). In this single sentence, there is the mention of family (the grandfather), land (where things grow in abundance), and the hierarchy of society — at the top of which is the czar, who looks out for the peoples of Russia as though they are his own children, hence the gift of the land to the author's grandfather. There is thus a sense of royalty, nobility, vibrancy, abundance, family connection, status, and fullness of life — all within one simple sentence. This is the essence of the Slavophile's sense of Russian greatness: all of these aspects are connected in an interlocking, communicating network of communal respect. In other words, they are the threads of society, without which society could not exist.

The sense that if those parts are not interlocking and working together, Russian society cannot hold, is apparent in the conclusion of the first sentence: "…but the property had been divided and sub-divided until it no longer sufficed for his support" (1). The estate granted to the author's ancestors by the Czar has not been kept whole and cohesive but has instead become fragmented, broken into parts, so that one portion is sent to one individual and his family and another portion to another. The grandfather cannot live off the land because it is claimed by so many different people who are not working together — and this is a problem for the Russian national character. If it loses its sense of community, it loses its identity.

In one sense, this is paradoxical: in the Slavophilic ideal, giving to family is essential and spreading the wealth is what makes Russia great; yet on the other hand it can impoverish the giver, and if individuals do not give back, tension is created. It is therefore important in the Slavophilic ideal that a spiritual unity underlie the whole — ensuring that everyone understands the importance of giving back and of including everyone in the community so that no one is left without "support," as the grandfather appears to be in the opening of the memoirs.

The Russian Character: Humor, Simplicity, and Rural Virtue

What follows is a depiction of how land is bought in a certain territory of Russia: a rural anecdote full of Russian charm and Russian character. A man comes to see about buying some land, and before any business can be discussed, half a dozen sheep must be slaughtered and a feast held — with wine, music, and dancing — and after this goes on for some days, the business matter of the visitor can finally be attended to. Even then, a "deed of sale is drawn out in the legal form" even though "the quantity of land neither is, nor can be precisely stated; for who has measured it?" (3).

This wonderful description illustrates perfectly the Russian soul that the Slavophile so embraces: a carelessness when it comes to material possessions such as land — no one knows the borders, for no one has ever bothered to measure them. According to the spirit of the Slavophile, a Russian is a man of neighborly virtue, who would sooner make merry and enjoy community life with a visitor than get down to the particulars of business. It is a happy, idealistic image — one separated from the urban business life of a city like Petersburg.

A different picture of the Russian character could certainly be drawn there, but that is not the picture on which the Slavophile depends for his Russian soul to be brought to life. He depends upon the rural countryside and the happy-go-lucky life of individuals there — their recklessness ("guests sleeping all over the place" after dancing for days), their nonchalance and casual acceptance of all things. In short, there is a simplicity of character that underscores their worldview, and this is the Russian identity evident in the sort of people the Slavophile upholds as exemplifying the Russian character and goodness of the simple Russian peasant in the simple Russian countryside. Even the grandfather recognizes this as he looks forward to moving to the land purchased from the Bashkirs.

The Russian humor is also evident in the next pages, as the grandfather takes leave of his family. His viewpoint on the differences between sons and daughters is something that the great Russian writer Gogol would have appreciated — there is nothing politically correct about it, and there is a biting acerbity to his words, but they are said out of love and affection. So all of these contrasting elements are bound up in the humor: it is realistic, satirical, honest, but affectionate and not meant to wound. It has a very down-to-earth quality, and so long as it is not rooted in anything mean-spirited, it is a welcome attribute of the Russian identity.

The humorous moment comes when the grandfather takes leave of his wife and children, giving an extra-special blessing to his son, because he "looked upon his son as the sole hope of his ancient house, and regarded his daughters as nothing. 'For,' said he, 'of what use are they? They do not look into the house, but out of it. Today they are Bagroffs, tomorrow they are Shligins, Maligins, Popoffs or Kalpakoffs. My only hope is Alexis'" (5). The humor lies in the fact that the grandfather cares most about the son because he believes the son will care most about the house. This is a great bit of ironic humor — part of the nature of the Slavophile, who knows, appreciates, and is even fond of the Russian's shortcomings, his self-centeredness, and his honest directness about them — because in the end it is a humor based on a simple way of life: protecting and taking care of the house. It is almost a kind of frontier humor, the sort that any frontier-loving American could appreciate too.

Conclusion: The Enduring Russian Soul

But the true Russian character is tied to the countryside — not to the urban cities, where the Russian identity can be lost in the myriad illusions proffered by wealth and income. The Slavophile prefers the union of labor and produce, the idea that one must earn one's daily bread through the sweat of one's brow — and for this reason, the peasant class is extolled and praised for its simplicity and virtue, even if individually the peasants are not perfect. The Russian identity is lifted up by virtue and by working with the land. The beauty of nature replenishes the Russian soul and allows its nature to be open to the flood of grace that the Orthodox church can give, so that when one loses his temper with his wife or daughter, he can be forgiven and his soul can return to union with God. The countryside best supports this union, so long as the church is there to help foster it too. For as Aksakov shows, the peasants long for the gifts of God just as the landed class longs for a place where they can live in harmony with the bountiful gifts of nature.

Aksakov's Memoirs of his Family give a rich and detailed depiction of the Russian national identity, as viewed from the perspective of the Slavophile, who loves Mother Russia in her simplest form, free of guile and rich in fertility. This love naturally leads one to the countryside, which is where Aksakov goes. There one finds the real Russian soul — full of faults and shortcomings, but always manifesting the long-persevering faith of their religious beliefs, which are tied to the mercy and charity of Christ. So while there may be sins along the way, there is always that belief in forgiveness and redemption that makes the Russian soul as rich as the fertile lands it inhabits.

Works Cited

Aksakov, Sergey. Memoirs of the Aksakov Family. Calcutta: Englishman Press, 1871.