The world and, in particular, France

IR not only presents the Russian past in its pages, but, to a lesser extent, it also publishes articles devoted to non-Russian history. Unsurprisingly – as France is the host country of many Russian émigrés and the home base of IR – the vast majority of those articles are devoted to France. By means of highlights from France’s (generally

77 “Феликс Дзержинский”. IR 1926-31(64), p. 13.

78 “Русский Марат”. Ibid.

79 “Тот человеконенавистнический садизм, который стал самой яркой и характерной чертой Дзержинского, когда он сделался верховным палачом русского народа, недвусмысленно

recent) history, IR arguably wants to help its readers get to know their host country a bit better. Additionally, and more importantly, a minority of IR’s articles on French history display a number of significant links to the Russian situation. As such, this seems all the more reason for IR to publish them.

In 1926, IR publishes two articles on the French past by Andrey Sedykh, writer and editor of the émigré newspaper New Russian Word (Novoye russkoye slovo). The first is an informative piece on the history of the annual fair in the Parisian quartier of Saint-Germain, dating back to 1486, it went into decline after a fire almost three centuries later and was permanently discontinued under France’s Third Republic.⁸⁰ In the second article⁸¹, then, Sedykh elaborates on the lurid history of the rue de Clichy where a number of bloody murders took place over the centuries, none of which, however, relate to Russia or Russians. Those murders are arguably discussed for their sensational nature. Interestingly, however, in the same article Sedykh also draws the readers’ attention to the Paris of Turgenev. According to Sedykh, Turgenev was widely known among the inhabitants of Montmartre, and was referred to by French critics as

“the famous Russian Musset” and “the giant of the Finnish steppes”.⁸² Sedykh’s reference to Turgenev, however minor, is surely a pleasant read for IR’s audience. On the one hand, it generates a sense of pride, as Sedykh highlights how Russian art and culture was recognized by the French public, something which IR does systematically (I will come back on this in chapter 2.2). On the other hand, with its reference to the existence of an émigré community in France since before the revolution, Sedykh’s article probably advances the idea among IR’s readers that the interwar emigration is a continuation of the prerevolutionary one, and perhaps, that they can attain the same appreciation as their predecessors.

Another topic that may have interested IR’s readers – although for other reasons than those stemming from the article on Turgenev in Paris – is the Dreyfus affair. This affair, which evoked wide controversy around the turn of the century, involves the wrongful conviction of Jewish-French captain Alfred Dreyfus, who was falsely accused of being a German spy. The history of this affair is outlined in the three-part posthumous revelations of Prussian general Maximilian von Schwartzkoppen, military attaché at the Embassy of the German Empire in Paris at the time of the affair.⁸³ Von Schwartzkoppen’s revelations, it can be argued, do not have any symbolic value for Russian émigrés. As IR mentions in a short introduction, it publishes the texts shortly after their initial publication in French, most likely for their topical and

80 “Ярмарка Сэн-Жермен”. IR 1926-22(55).

81 “Старый Париж”. IR 1926-18(51).

82 "знаменитым русским Мюссэ"; "гигантом Финских степей". Ibid, p. 11.

informational value. What is more, the Dreyfus affair also resonated strongly in Russia at the time, and Dreyfus received support from influential Russian writers such as Chekhov and Tolstoy. As such, Von Schwartzkoppen’s article arguably is a popular reading for IR’s audience.

IR also prints a number of articles on the First World War from a French point of view. In 1927, IR publishes French spy and writer Charles Lucieto’s documentary novel War of the minds (Voyna umov): “a series of exciting, vividly written, individual episodes, [that] outline[s] the brilliant work of one of the most talented, energetic and elusive secret agents of French counter-intelligence.”⁸⁴ These articles can be seen as the Western counterpart of the nine-part “Espionage during the war”⁸⁵, in which former member of Russian secret intelligence count Ignatyev discusses his activities during the war. Both Ignatyev’s and Lucieto’s articles square perfectly with IR’s trademark content, providing historical information while also catering to the interwar period’s predilection for anything secret and mysterious. The topic of Western espionage during World War I is also covered in the article “Women in secret intelligence”⁸⁶, which discusses the activities of “spy-patriots” ⁸⁷ Louise de Bettignies, Germaine Thirion and Mata Hari.

Sensationalism also takes the fore in IR’s other items on the First World War which are presented from the French perspective. In the article “Empress of the world”⁸⁸, Valeriyan Svetlov discusses some first-hand experiences from wartime France during the last years of the First World War when he lived in Paris. Additionally, the article

“The final battle”⁸⁹ tells the story of German submarine U.64, which sank in battle with British forces and is considered to be one of the “most captivating documents of this kind”⁹⁰. Finally, on the occasion of French general Joseph Joffre’s passing in January 1931, IR prints a series of photographs of him, even devoting two covers to the generalissimo (figures 41-42). One of these covers, as well as three pictures inside that issue depict Joffre and Tsar Nikolay II attending Russian maneuvers near Krasnoye Selo in July 1913 (figure 43). As with Sedykh’s remark on Turgenev’s Paris, these pictures of Joffre in Russia are arguably of certain interest to IR’s readers for their

relatability, as they combine experiences from both the home country and the host country.

Other articles relating to the wartime period do not necessarily discuss the war as such. In “Life and death of Bolo pasha”⁹¹, for instance, IR discusses the notorious case of “Bolo pasha” (Paul Bolo), “an adventurer who got entangled in his dark deeds and died at the pillory of the Vincennes Fortress”⁹². France had many such criminal cases during the First World War, IR claims, which deeply affected the country, “but passed almost unnoticed for foreigners under the rumble of the war”⁹³. This is especially applicable for IR’s readers, “who were experiencing, at that time, one of the most difficult chapters of [their] history — even more so as they had neither the ability nor the desire to follow the internal life of other countries.”⁹⁴ By publishing this article on the Bolo pasha affair, therefore, it seems as if IR is making up for lost time and allowing its readers to catch up with some sensational events they missed because of the Revolution. As such, IR readers, again, can get to know the host country better.

Additionally, and more importantly, IR also prints a few articles which connect with the Russian situation. These articles, although few in number, are very significant, as they refer to the suffering of the Russian people and to Soviet amorality. Mid-1927, for example, IR publishes the account – written specifically for IR – of the Russian People’s University’s excursion to the catacombs of Paris. As IR claims, “the Russian people are always very curious about them. This is probably mainly due to the name reminding them of Rome, and of the history of Christian martyrs”⁹⁵. Although IR does not explicitly mentions it, the remark on Russian interest in these catacombs most likely refers to similar experiences of religious persecution in Soviet Russia. A couple of years later – in the 1929 Easter issue no less – IR devotes a similar article to the catacombs of Rome, discussing their origins as a refuge for persecuted Christians and its discovery in the mid-19^th century.⁹⁶ Just as with the article on the catacombs of Paris, there is no specific reference to the anti-religious regime in Soviet Russia, but, in combination with numerous news items in IR on religious persecutions in Soviet

Russia (cf. 5.3.1.1), as well as with the émigrés’ own status as persecuted people, it stands to reason that IR’s readers would make the connection.

Another, more explicit parallel between the situation of Russian émigrés and the history of France can be found in the French Revolution of 1789. As with the Russian Revolution of 1917, the French Revolution resulted in the overthrow and execution of the royal family and the establishment of a dictatorship. The main symbol of the French Revolution, undoubtedly, is the storming of the Bastille, annually commemorated in France on July 14 as a national holiday. The commemoration of Bastille Day is a recurring topic in IR over the years. Significantly, on only one occasion does IR not denounce Bastille Day and its celebration, nor link it to the Russian Revolution. This is in 1931, when IR limits itself to a description of the festivities for the national holiday in Paris, followed by a neutral account of the construction and evolution of the Bastille fortress.⁹⁷ In other items on the topic, however, IR does not hold back and criticizes the enormous violence of the French Revolution. In doing so, IR both implicitly and explicitly refers to the violence of the Russian Revolution – or the October Revolution, to be more precise – and, as such, it can be argued, commemorates émigré suffering.

In 1926, IR publishes a very critical piece by émigré journalist Aleksandr Yablonovsky on the occasion of Bastille Day, a day which is extensively celebrated. Not only in France, Yablonovsky claims, but all over Europe the Bastille is a “great, glorious, exciting name”⁹⁸ and children are raised with poems and songs about the event. For the Russian émigrés in France, however, Yablonovsky claims, the celebration of Bastille day is a painful and, above all, incomprehensible commemoration, as the émigrés experienced a similar revolution not even a decade earlier, one which forced them into exile. According to Yablonovsky, the whole Bastille cult is only “a sweet legend that made our hearts beat faster and woke up the dreams of ‘ultimate’ victory.”⁹⁹ Although Yablonovsky does not explicitly mention it as such, his remark is reminiscent of the way in which the Soviet authorities praise and propagate the “accomplishments” of the Revolution, something which IR frequently and strongly condemns. I will come back on IR’s coverage of Soviet propaganda in

speak on this account, that history that does not like poetry and does not know ‘lunar deceptions’.”¹⁰⁰ Central to Yablonovsky’s reasoning is the following reflection:

In order to evaluate every revolution in its whole, as well as a separate act of revolution, one must always keep in mind three main questions:

- What is ruined?

- What is created?

- And at what cost?

And from this point of view, it is impossible not to notice that the taking of the Bastille did not add a single leaf to the laurel wreaths of the revolution.

If the goal cannot justify the means at all, then here it would be indecent to talk about the justification of low means, set into motion to achieve a high goal.

- Who were released?

- Crooks.

- Who were killed?

- Honest people.¹⁰¹

Yablonovsky, thus, strongly condemns the taking of the Bastille, claiming that the goal of the event could not justify its atrocities, including the release of criminal and the killing of innocent victims. This statement on the pointlessness of such a bloody event of course does not apply to the French Revolution alone, but equally criticizes the enormous violence of October Revolution. Because although it is again not explicitly mentioned, the comparison with the storming of the Winter Palace in Saint Petersburg during the October Revolution is self-evident.

The comparison between the French and the Russian Revolution is also made explicit by Yablonovsky when commenting in the same article on the chaos at the time.

“Just like in Moscow and Petersburg,” Yablonovsky states, “they [the crowd that stormed the Bastille] trapped passers-by in dark streets and ‘stripped’ them almost naked.”¹⁰² Significantly, just as with IR’s coverage of the execution of the Tsarist family, what stands out most in Yablonovsky’s article are the tremendous violence and amorality that accompanied the French Revolution but are not necessarily part of the idea behind that Revolution. Hence, by denouncing the horrors of the French Revolution, Yablonovsky both implicitly and explicitly does the same for the Russian Revolution. That same year, IR publishes Yablonovsky’s five-part portrait, “Things of days long past”¹⁰³. Each part of this portrait highlights a central element of the French Revolution: the executioner, the guillotine, and the execution of the king and queen.

As such, Yablonovsky’s focus is once again on the violence accompanying the French Revolution, rather than on its ideological or historical essence.

This specific focus is continued in another telling article in IR, written by journalist Lolly Lvov, who attends an exposition in Paris early 1928 on the occasion of the French Revolution’s 140^th birthday. Of all the material displayed, according to Lvov, that which spoke most to the Russian émigrés are those things “related to the times of terrible terror…”¹⁰⁴. In that period, Lvov explains,

[t]he days of the Revolution’s honeymoon, the days of universal good-heartedness are far behind. The days of the holiday are over, and here are the days of frenzy, mourning and terror. The terror is growing fiercer every day, and, initially falling upon the heads of the unfortunate king and queen, then striking to death the revolutionaries themselves, the ‘Girondists’, and Danton, the recent arbiter of the fate of the revolution.¹⁰⁵

In this quote, Lvov seems to project upon the French revolution the difference

‘good’ part of the Revolution – and the subsequent October Revolution – the starting point of a period of terror which, as Lvov indicates, is still ongoing in Russia. However, Lvov’s quote also expresses the émigré’s hope that this terror will eventually lead to the death of Russian revolutionaries and, hence, the end of Bolshevik rule.

Apart from the Russian past, IR also reports on certain elements from France’s (recent) history. These elements are quite similar to the Russian ones, as the main focus here is also on the First World War and the French Revolution. Just as with the Russian historical items, the function is predominantly informative, as IR clarifies defining periods in French history that the Russians perhaps missed out on because of the Russian Revolution and the Civil War. However, interestingly, a significant amount of those items also show strong links with Russian history. This is mainly the case for articles devoted to the French Revolution, which is both implicitly and explicitly compared or linked to the Russian Revolution. By denouncing the French Revolution and the accompanying chaos and terror, IR simultaneously denounces the similar Revolution and terror which Russian émigrés experienced only a decade earlier.

Finally, IR also devotes articles to more trivial elements of Western history – something which it, strikingly, never does for the Russian past.

IR’s historical canon, it can be concluded, mainly fulfills the dual role of commemorating and informing; this applies not only to people and events, but also, to a lesser extent, to Russian landmarks. Interestingly, however, what connects many of those items is an overall sense of Russian suffering and sacrifice – elements which, remarkably enough, also emerge from items on French history.