Suchergebnisse

The New York Times welcomed, as did we all, the appearance of two excellent recent books, Hedrick Smith's The Russians and Robert Kaiser's Russia. But the reviewer began by saying, "It is amazing—worse it is alarming—to realize how little one knows about the Soviet Union."1 This notion that we know little about Russia is an old one, of course, and has had its uses. One need but recall Churchill's famous tag about Russia as enigma wrapped in mystery to remember that declarations of ignorance can be used to spur action. Nonetheless, it should be clear by now that whatever else may be said about the notion of our ignorance concerning Russia, one can no longer simply say that it is true. American scholars for many years now have probed with remarkable success all aspects of the Russian experience. Yet the notion persists that we do not know Russia at all well. Why does this notion persist? What can, or should, be done about it? While definitive answers to such questions are too much to expect of any brief essay, the goal of this paper is to sketch at least the broad outlines of what appear to be some reasonable answers.

S. S. Uvarov, minister of education from 1833 to 1849, is usually described as a reactionary. The reason for that judgment is clear. Many of the steps Uvarov took as minister seemed designed to block the realization of the liberal goals set by the reformers who assisted Alexander I in founding the modern Russian educational system in 1801-4. One important aspect of that liberal, modern, system was its "all-class" character. An educational system which admitted students of all classes was perceived by "reactionaries" as a threat to the established order, despite the relatively small numbers of people involved. Thus, "Uvarov was disturbed by the trickle of students from lower classes who were finding their way into the universities. As in secondary schools, the admission of such students was hindered by legalistic formalities and an increase in tuition fees."

It is easy to ignore the career of Vasilii Nazarevich Karazin, and, indeed, most treatments of imperial Russia do so. When Karazin is mentioned, he is usually described as a rather ridiculous figure, the putative "Marquis Posa" of Alexander I who had a spectacularly short public career, or simply as that "harebrained Ukrainian." Yet Karazin is hardly unknown; he is almost universally credited with being the founder of Kharkov University and is the subject of a number of works that picture him as an able, active public figure. The purpose of the present paper, however, is not to argue Karazin's importance or to decide whether or not he was "harebrained" but to explore his role in the foundation of Kharkov University as a useful case study of the relationship between the autocracy and the gentry in the early nineteenth century.