The triumph of Marxism in backward Russia is commonly regarded as a historical anomaly. Yet, some forty-five years before the Bolshevik Revolution, Marx's Das Kapital in Russian translation had already won quick acclaim. Indeed, the book for a brief time enjoyed greater renown in Russia than in any other country, and it won a warm reception—for highly varied reasons— in many political quarters. Although valuable studies have been written on the first responses to Marxism in Russia, little note has been taken of the rapid and widespread success the book scored, and the reasons for this success have received even less attention. An exploration of these reasons will therefore cover a rarely traveled byway of Russian intellectual history.

“Homme de toute sorte de savoir,” was how Alexander Turgenev was once described by Chateaubriand, while Francis Jeffrey, the editor of the Edinburgh Review, in a letter to Sydney Smith, called him “a Russian gentleman accomplished in all liberal and orthodox sciences.” The word “orthodox” was underlined by Jeffrey, and Turgenev said that he did not understand the meaning of that underlining. It is possible, of course, that all Jeffrey had in mind was that Turgenev was of the Russian Orthodox faith and knew all about its tenets.

Tolstoy the man, whose awe-inspiring personality haunts us still, poses an enormous obstacle to those who wish to write about his work. One frequently encounters interpretations of the novels, plays, and short stories based on Tolstoy's aims in creating them and on what his consciously held values were or are believed to have been. Unfortunately for anyone who attempts this kind of evaluation, Tolstoy, one of the most complex and baffling men who ever lived, is notorious for his self-contradictions. Although we have some good biographies, Tolstoy deserves the attention of a scholar—probably not a literary critic—with a sophisticated view of human personality and the relationship between the individual and society, who will write an analytical account of his problems comparable to Erik Erikson's widely admired Young Man Luther.

This article is a critical analysis of the prevalent interpretation of “war communism” in Anglo-American literature that views the economic policies of that period as temporary expedients to meet wartime and inflationary conditions. Although there are scholars whose accounts are notable exceptions to this interpretation, it is the dominant one and is found in popular works, textbooks, and important scholarly contributions. For example, Nettl states that “war communism” “represented a series of ad hoc measures to combat emergency situations.” Sherman writes that “as a necessary military measure, by the end of 1918 all large-scale factories had been nationalized and put under central control,” and he explains the requisitioning and allocation in kind of supplies from farm and factory as the consequence of inflation having ended the usefulness of money. Anderson states that with the outbreak of the civil war in May 1918 “an emergency policy of War Communism was adopted.” Fainsod says that “the policy of War Communism was the rule of the besieged fortress.” This article will show by a study of Lenin's writings during the “war communism” period that this prevalent interpretation suffers from the neglect of the original aspirations of Marxian socialism and consequently misrepresents the motives behind the economic policies of “war communism.”

Late in October 1918, in the shadow of impending defeat, nationalist revolutions rocked the Austro-Hungarian Empire. By the time the Austro-Hungarian representatives signed the Padua Armistice on November 3, imperial authority no longer existed in the Dual Monarchy. In Hungary the revolution of October 30 brought to power a coalition government led by the liberal pacifist, Mihaly Karolyi. The coalition included the Karolyi-led Independence Party, the Social Democrats, and the Radicals of Oszkar Jaszi. This revolutionary government's aim was to liquidate the semifeudal remnants of the old order by introducing democratic, political, and social reforms.

Since the Twentieth Party Congress, a controversy has developed in the Soviet Union concerning the activities and views of Anatolii Vasilievich Lunacharsky (1875-1933). Lunacharsky was the USSR's first commissar of education and an important and controversial figure in the arts during the 1920s. Of particular interest in the current debate is the underlying issue of artistic freedom in the Soviet Union today. In praising or attacking Lunacharsky, writers can set forth in an oblique manner their views on topics that cannot always be openly discussed. In this debate those who advocate change in the arts policy and those who support the current policies can confront each other, in an acceptable way, on such issues as censorship, the party's role in the world of art, artistic experimentation, and a variety of other issues of vital concern to artists and writers in the Soviet Union.