by Andrey Berezina
[REGNUM] Two hundred years ago, early in the morning of December 26 (December 14, Old Style), 1825, a column of 800 soldiers of the Life Guards Moscow Regiment marched out onto Senate Square in St. Petersburg under their battle banners. The "Muscovites," led by Alexander and Mikhail Bestuzhev and Prince Dmitry Shchepin-Rostovsky, formed a battle square near the Bronze Horseman.
Thus, the capital, and with it the entire empire, learned of the outbreak of the uprising. But it had begun earlier, before dawn—when Prince Shchepin-Rostovsky seriously wounded the regimental commander of the Moscow Life Guards, Baron Pavel Frederiks, who was attempting to stop the mutinous regiment. The rebels prevented Pavel Golenishchev-Kutuzov, a hero of the war of 1812 and a descendant of the famous family, from entering the square.
IN THE DEPTHS OF HISTORICAL MEMORY
From our 9th grade textbooks, we more or less remember how the uprising of four regiments and a guards crew in St. Petersburg under the command of Kondraty Ryleyev and the Bestuzhev brothers, leaders of the "Northern Society," ended.
You can refresh your memory of the "reference points"—whether it was the assassination of Governor-General Mikhail Miloradovich by the rebels or the four volleys of grapeshot that stopped the uprising—by watching a 2019 film or a 2024 series (we'll leave the question of their authenticity open).
The plot of the riot in the Kiev province on January 10–15, 1826, is also well known—when the soldiers and officers of the Chernigov regiment were led on a march by the leaders of the Southern Society, Sergei Muravyov-Apostol and Mikhail Bestuzhev-Ryumin.
Over the years, the details of how “one hundred ensigns wanted to change the entire state life of Russia” (a phrase attributed to Alexander Griboyedov ) have faded from national memory.
Even the historical date "floats" in the public consciousness. Social media and the press celebrated the bicentennial of the uprising for freedom—or condemned the rebellion against legitimate authority—not on December 26th, but on December 14th, forgetting the difference between the old and new calendars.
But the historical plot itself remains a subject of debate, and the past two centuries have brought us no closer to understanding Russia's massive historical drama, which gave rise to a divided public consciousness.
Almost from Alexander Pushkin's dedication to his comrades in the Arzamas literary circle (the classic "In the Depths of Siberian Mines..." ), the tradition of considering the Decembrists heroes arose. These brilliant officers of the army that defeated Napoleon, true patriots who, believing that power in the weak hands of the autocrat was leading Russia into the abyss, conceived an uprising.
In this canon, the Decembrists and their faithful wives became objects of worship, first for the raznochintsy intelligentsia of the 19th century (remember Nekrasov’s poem ), and then for all Soviet generations, right up until the 1980s.
It wasn't so much a matter of Lenin's memorized quote: "The Decembrists awakened Herzen, Herzen launched revolutionary agitation," etc., but rather a romantic attitude toward Muravyov-Apostol and Bestuzhev-Marlinsky, even among those who weren't particularly fond of Soviet officialdom.
This attitude was also evident in Bulat Okudzhava’s work “A Breath of Freedom” (a novel about Pavel Pestel, published in the “Fiery Revolutionaries” series in 1971) and in Vladimir Motyl’s film “The Captivating Star of Happiness.”
"A CROWD OF LOST AND EVILDOERS"
The counter-myth is no less persistent: the Decembrists are seen not as idealists with “beautiful impulses of the soul,” but as nothing more than calculating conspirators and traitors to the Motherland.
In fact, the first person to formulate this point of view was Nicholas I, who carried out a “debriefing” immediately upon ascending to the throne – in the Manifesto of December 1825.
“A handful of disobedient people dared to oppose the general oath, the Law, the authority, the military order and the convictions,” the emperor explained to his subjects.
Therefore, the legal authorities “ had to use force to disperse and bring to their senses this crowd of lost and evil-doers.”
The Lost (soldiers who were sure that they were going for the legitimate Tsar Constantine and his wife Constitution) “were sure that they were defending the Throne.”
The perpetrators treacherously “desired and sought, taking advantage of the moment, to carry out evil plans that had long been drawn up, long been thought out, long been smoldering in the darkness of secrecy among them and only partially known to the Government; to overthrow the Throne and the Fatherland Laws, to transform the State order, to introduce anarchy.”
Nikolai accused the rebels of plotting a terrorist attack: they intended to achieve their goals through murder, as evidenced by the death of Miloradovich on Senate Square.
Nicholas's manifesto simultaneously outlined the goal and objective of the reign that had begun: "to cleanse Holy Russia from this infection brought to US from outside."
The easiest way to interpret “infection brought in from outside” is as an indication of some foreign intrigue in the Decembrist conspiracies.
However, apparently, Nikolai Pavlovich understood by “infection” the ideological climate that was established under his grandmother, Catherine the Great. and strengthened under his elder brother Alexander the Blessed.
HALF A CENTURY OF ELITE LIBERALISM
At the beginning of the 19th century - in the “wonderful beginning of Alexander’s days”, and even after 1815 (when Alexander I was considered a “dreamy friend” of the despotic temporary ruler Arakcheev ), considering oneself a citizen meant following the latest European fashions. Spreading the rumor "Oh my God, he's a Carbonari!" was no less flattering for an enlightened nobleman than being known as a materialist or even an "Afei"—an atheist.
It is believed that after the assassination of Paul I (the penultimate Guards coup, if we consider the Decembrist uprising to be the last), Alexander promised: “Under me, it will be like under my grandmother.”
And the “golden age” of Ekaterina Alekseevna’s grandmother coincided with the spread of the ideas of the French enlighteners in Europe and Russia: Voltaire and Denis Diderot, Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Charles-Louis Montesquieu.
Catherine II, who corresponded with Voltaire, Diderot, and the “defender of liberty and rights” Friedrich Melchior Grimm, was one of those who correctly assessed the power of the Enlightenment ideology.
But at the same time, she realized the utopian nature of the West's progressive ideas for our conditions. And for enlightened Europe—long before the Jacobin Terror—she understood the incendiary and destructive power contained in the works of Monsieur Voltaire.
Either by herself or not without the help of Grigory Potemkin, who wrote to the empress about the mood in Paris: “Those who bewitch the blind minds of the people with imaginary freedom are multiplying,” warning that “games of Voltaireanism” will not end well.
It ended with the guillotine for the enemies of freedom and rights, and then with the tyranny of Bonaparte, which suppressed all freedoms and rights - which Catherine, fortunately, did not live to see.
But generations of Russian aristocrats grew up, educated first on the "Manifesto on the Freedom of the Nobility," and then on Rousseau's theory of the social contract, on the "Marseillaise" with its calls to "tremble, tyrants!" ( the quatrain "We will amuse good citizens..." attributed to Pushkin did not appear without reason).
And—in admiration for Napoleon's military and political genius. This fascination with the French emperor was not spared even by his victors—the young generals of 1812.
OLD FRONDEURS AND YOUNG OFFICERS
The enlightened reigns of Catherine II, and then her grandson Alexander I, seemed insufficiently enlightened for the aristocrats who considered themselves democrats (winning perhaps only against the backdrop of the short period of "tyranny" of Paul I).
As has happened so often in our history, attempts at reform—whether Catherine's legislative projects or the proposals of the young Alexander's associate, Mikhail Speransky —met with the "material resistance" of the bureaucratic system. And they were rolled back. The rebellious aristocracy was once again convinced that the authorities not only could not, but also did not want, "liberties."
At the same time, those for whom rebellion had already become a sacred tradition extolled those who, from their point of view, went against the system.
Among the idols were Nikolai Novikov, a retired lieutenant, editor-educator, and seeker of true Freemasonry. So did Alexander Radishchev, the head of the St. Petersburg customs office, who suffered for publishing "Journey from St. Petersburg to Moscow" (a book "filled with the most harmful intellectualism," according to the empire's most influential literary critic, Empress Catherine), and the far more moderate bureaucrat Speransky, who had fallen into disgrace.
Novikov, who served time in the Shlisselburg fortress under Catherine—including for dealings with the Duke of Brunswick and other foreigners—survived the victory of 1812 and died on his estate.
At the end of his life, Radishchev received a full pardon from Alexander I and joined the legislative commission. One of the freethinker's sons, Afanasy Radishchev, rose to the rank of major general and governor (of Podolsk, Vitebsk, and Kaunas). The "systemic liberal" Speransky was restored to his former position from disgrace.
But in radical mythology, Novikov, Radishchev, and Speransky all found themselves in the category of "victims of those who fell in a fatal struggle." "Fallen," in part, for reasons of their own moderation.
But Novikov and Radishchev were precisely the ones who theoretically admitted that a change of power in Russia was possible not only through succession to the throne and a “snuffbox to the temple,” but also through European revolutionary means.
The 19th century was approaching – the century of lieutenants, colonels and generals who rewrote history to suit themselves.
And this isn't just Lieutenant and later General Bonaparte. But also a "fresh" hero—Captain General Rafael del Riego y Flores, commander of the Spanish Liberal troops during the 1820–23 revolution.
But there was also General Simón Bolívar, President of the Republic of Gran Colombia with the title of “El Libertador” – “The Liberator”, who in those same years was destroying the Spanish Empire in its South American possessions.
And the next French Revolution was just around the corner - July 1830, with the final overthrow of the senior Bourbons (who, in fact, were restored to the throne by the Russian Tsar Alexander).
If the Decembrists were idealists, they were idealists striving for power. After all, history itself has confirmed Voltaire's aphorism: " God is not on the side of the big battalions; he is on the side of the best shooters"—"God is not on the side of the big battalions, but on the side of those who shoot best." Read: determination and a well-timed blow can overthrow the system.
FROM LUNIN TO LENIN
Did the Decembrists wish the Fatherland well? Perhaps here one can agree with the phrase from Lenin's textbook article "In Memory of Herzen": "The circle of these revolutionaries is narrow, they are terribly distant from the people."
For this terrible separation we should “thank” Peter the Great, from whose era the linguistic, cultural and even religious gap between the elite and the people began to grow.
Therefore, when "a hundred ensigns decided to turn Russia upside down," the coup was conceived along European lines—even though Pavel Pestel called his draft constitution "Russian Truth," and planned not only to expand and strengthen the secret police, but also to rename it the "Dept. of Decency."
On the other hand, in sync with the Europeanization of the ruling class during the "age of the golden Catherine," the peasant class's serfdom intensified. During those blessed days for the nobility, a breakdown in the peace between the classes became apparent.
But did the Decembrists in 1825 want to do what Alexander II did in 1861 – give freedom to the peasants?
Lenin insisted - yes, they wanted it, according to the advanced European model:
“Having defeated Napoleon’s most powerful enemy in the Patriotic War of 1812, having passed through the whole of Europe, which had been virtually conquered by Russian arms, the sons of the most distinguished Russian noble families had the opportunity to compare the life and legal status of Europeans with all the horrors and darkness of the old Russian serfdom.”
The "legal status of Europeans" is a flexible concept. In the German states, the second iteration of serfdom (harsher than the Russian one at the time) took place in the second half of the 17th century, while in Austrian Galicia, corvée was abolished in the 1840s. The life of "free Europeans" who toiled in British manufactories and later factories (without, it should be noted, any special political rights) gave Karl Marx the impetus to write "Das Kapital," so highly valued by Ilyich.
Be that as it may, the Decembrist "constitutions" did indeed declare the abolition of serfdom, along roughly the same lines as those envisioned in the government projects of Alexander I from 1803 to 1818.
But it's worth noting that of all the Decembrists, only one— Mikhail Lunin— instructed his heirs in his will, written in 1819, to free peasants and house servants. The other domestic "libertadores" had no such intention.
Perhaps the release was postponed until “when we come to power.”
There's a common saying: history knows no subjunctive mood. But one can surmise that if "rebels worse than Pugachev" had seized power, the unresolved land issue and "suppressed" social problems would have given rise to a genuine new Pugachev rebellion. Which, in fact, is precisely what emerged almost a century later.
But the victory of the Decembrists is a plot for an alternative history.
There's another famous saying: " A rebellion cannot end successfully. Otherwise it's called something else." The phrase belongs to the English poet and courtier of Elizabeth I, John Harrington. It was written long before the first European "otherwise"—the English Revolution, during which the king was beheaded. Interestingly, the original uses the word "treason" instead of "rebellion."
We've seen the consequences of attempts to forcibly bestow blessings in modern times: when freedom turned into permissiveness, equality into indifference, and formal brotherhood into the impoverishment of the majority and the omnipotence of the "brotherhood." History has shown the advantage of evolution over great upheavals, and the benefit of taking people's opinions into account over a fundamental overhaul, in keeping with yet another progressive idea.