Editor's Note: This article by Victor Chernov, Lenin's fellow revolutionary and political rival, appeared in Foreign Affairs March 15, 1924, following Lenin's death on January 21 of that year. It is reprinted here on the 100th anniversary of Lenin's birth.
Editor's Note: This article by Victor Chernov, Lenin's fellow revolutionary and political rival, appeared in Foreign Affairs March 15, 1924, following Lenin's death on January 21 of that year. It is reprinted here on the 100th anniversary of Lenin's birth.
Lenin is dead-this time dead physically, for spiritually and politically he has been dead a year at least. We have got in the habit of speaking of him as a thing of the past; and for that very reason it will not be difficult now to write of him dispassionately.
Lenin was a great man. He was not merely the greatest man in his party; he was its uncrowned king, and deservedly. He was its head, its will, I should even say he was its heart were it not that both the man and the party implied in themselves heartlessness as a duty. Lenin's intellect was energetic but cold. It was above all an ironic, sarcastic and cynical intellect. Nothing to him was worse than sentimentality, a name he was ready to apply to all moral and ethical considerations in politics. Such things were to him trifles, hypocrisy, "parson's talk." Politics to him meant strategy, pure and simple. Victory was the only commandment to observe; the will to rule and to carry through a political program without compromise, that was the only virtue; hesitation, that was the only crime.
It has been said that war is a continuation of politics, though employing different means. Lenin would undoubtedly have reversed this dictum and said that politics is the continuation of war under another guise. The essential effect of war on a citizen's conscience is nothing but a legalization and glorification of things that in times of peace constitute crime. In war the turning of a flourishing country into a desert is a mere tactical move; robbery is a "requisition," deceit a strategem, readiness to shed the blood of one's brother military zeal; heartlessness toward one's victims is laudable self-command; pitilessness and inhumanity are one's duty. In war all means are good, and the best ones are precisely the things most condemned in normal human intercourse. And as politics is disguised war, the rules of war constitute its principles.
This is a premium article
You must be a Foreign Affairs subscriber to continue reading. If you are already a print subscriber, click here to activate your online access.
Log In
Buy PDF
Buy a premium PDF reprint of this article.Related
The possibility that the world will awake with surprise one morning to a radical change--whether hoped for or feared--in the Soviet system of government is so remote that we can only wonder that the prospect continues to tantalize us, provoking a recurrent international concern. Perhaps it is because we are all too aware of the vulnerability of our analyses and hypotheses as they apply to even the most "open" and flexible of political systems that we do not cease to marvel at the opaque intransigence of the "closed," rigid, "perfect" system of the Soviet Union, and its indisputable reality in our time.
On Novy Swiat, a main downtown street in Warsaw, there is a women's lingerie store called Bardotka, a diminutive for the surname of the celebrated French actress. To a Western resident of Moscow (or most other East European capitals) where such establishments tend to have names like Wearing Apparel Store Number Six, the Polish whimsy is remarkable. The observation, however, is not nearly so lighthearted as it may seem at first. There is a growing divergence between the Soviet Union and its largest ally that is understandably a matter of the utmost sensitivity for both countries. Profound differences in the way Poles and Soviets order their worlds in the 1970s start with superficial points of style, but they extend increasingly to fundamental issues of politics, economics and ideology.
Is an East-West policy necessary, and what should it be? Such a question would seem to go without saying and, in the eyes of countless academics and other observers, requires an affirmative response. More vigorously than ever, they are demanding from their governments, and, above all, from the United States, a "clear," "coherent," and "global" East-West policy. The question will become still more pressing in 1983, which will see the playing out of one of the most difficult matches in the game of nuclear arms negotiations since the beginning of the cold war, after the close of a year marked by two major events. In Moscow, the death of Leonid Brezhnev and the rise to power of Yuri Andropov may offer an opportunity for a new approach to old problems, and open up new perspectives on Soviet behavior. In Washington, in 1982, we have seen Ronald Reagan's policies run into their first serious problems in two areas that are supposed to be the main pillars of his "doctrine" regarding the Soviet Union: the philosophy of trade with the communist nations and the rearmament program.
