Abstract
During the 1990s, Western comparative fascist studies underwent a process of consolidation. A growing number of scholars agreed to and now use various forms of a more or less consensual definition of fascism as an extremely nationalistic and revolutionary ideology. In contrast, the conceptualisations and applications of ‘fascism’ in post-Soviet Russia are contradictory continuing Soviet misuse of the term. Increasing anti-democratic tendencies in Russian politics and society suggest closer attention by Western scholars to putative post-Soviet fascisms.
The 1990s have seen remarkable changes in the Western and Russian study of fascism, understood as a generic concept. On the one side, Western comparative fascist studies went through a process of consolidation: a number of tendencies in the study of inter-war Europe have coalesced into a relatively unambiguous conceptualisation of fascism that is becoming increasingly widely accepted in the English-writing scholarly community (Griffin, 1998a, 2002a; Kallis 2004b). In Russia, on the other side, the notorious standard orthodox Marxist definition of fascism has been abandoned. Subsequently, the post-Soviet Russian interpretation of fascism has suffered from fragmentation, and the usage of the term ‘fascism’ in public discourse from what might be called ‘hyper-inflation’. 1
In this paper I briefly juxtapose recent Western and Russian developments, and identify some points where the two trends meet. As the amount of literature summarized here is vast, it is impossible to do full justice to all the different schools and approaches within fascist studies, especially Western studies. Thus, the focus here is merely on some major trends and their comparison. 2
The Emergence of a Nascent Consensus in the Western Study of Fascism
Though non-Marxist scholarly comparative fascist studies emerged as long ago as the early 1960s (Nolte, 1963; Weber, 1964), over more than two decades they were hampered by the absence of a commonly held, lucid definition of what exactly is to be studied. To be sure, a number of eminent scholars, including Juan Linz (1975, 1979, 1980), George Mosse (1979, 1999) and Stanley Payne (1980a, 1980b), seemed to have a shared understanding about which phenomena are to be labelled ‘fascist’ and which not. And they proposed more or less compatible definitions of the concept. Yet, their lists and others’ lists of the characteristics of fascism were too cumbersome for an uncomplicated application in empirical research and effective integration into the comparative study of ideologies.
Other Western scholars departed from this informal agreement, for instance, by rejecting the idea of a generic fascism altogether. 3 A third group proposed idiosyncratic conceptualisations that explicitly excluded Nazism from the class of fascisms (for example Sternhell, Sznajder and Asheri, 1994; Sternhell, 1996), or stretched the concept so as to include a number of non-European inter- and post-war developmental dictatorships (for example Gregor, 1968, 1969, 1974, 1979, 1997, 1999, 2000). For many years, the large German industry of Nazism studies ignored, 4 with only a few exceptions, 5 the growing body of non-Marxist research into international fascism, for instance, the important volumes of collected papers edited by Woolf (1968), Allardyce (1971), Mosse (1979), Laqueur (1979b), as well as Larsen, Myklebust and Hagtvet (1980). Oddly, there and some other collections went largely unnoticed in Germany, although German scholars made some important contributions to them.
Arguably, the publication of Roger Griffin's monograph The Nature of Fascism in 1991 (and its reprint in 1993) opened a new chapter in Western comparative studies of fascism. 6 Following a certain halt in Anglo-Saxon theorizing about generic fascism in the 1980s, 7 Griffin presented, after a decade, the first comprehensive interpretation in the English language that was widely received and discussed. Among other achievements, he provided a succinct definition of fascism as ‘palingenetic [expressing the idea of rebirth] ultranationalism’. This construct and the larger conceptualisation accompanying it have proven to be useful. They have been applied by a number of scholars engaged in the empirical study of concrete manifestations of right-wing extremism. For instance, Griffin's concept plays an important role in two recent major German comparative studies of the Western inter- and post-war extreme right by Minkenberg (1998) and Reichhardt (2002). 8
Moreover, Griffin built around his concept a comprehensive model of fascism's rise that sought to combine the findings of many scholars. His interpretation focuses on the spread of a feeling that contemporary society is in a process of rapid cultural decline. In the fascist mindset, such acuity of decadence leads, paradoxically, not to ‘cultural pessimism’, but to a manically optimistic belief that the nation's current downfall will eventually lead to a glorious national rebirth. According to the fascists, the culturally or racially defined community of their country or their civilization as a whole is at a turning point, and about to rise phoenix-like from the ashes of recent degeneration. Fascism is radically right-wing in envisaging a society that is structured and cleansed according to ascribed differences between human beings, but it is neither conservative nor reactionary. It does not aim to preserve or restore the past. Instead, it wants to build a radically new society, create an alternative modernity, and form a ‘new man’.
Subsequently, Griffin (1995c) supplemented his hermeneutic theory of fascist ideology's sources and implications with an impressive reader of primary texts supporting his interpretation as well as with several articles that further clarified selected aspects of his approach. 9 At about the same time, Stanley G.
Payne contributed the third ‘great’ book on fascism of the 1990s called, A History of Fascism 1914–1945. His magisterial study is a comprehensive comparison of the varieties of all relevant putatively fascist movements and regimes of the inter-war period. In many ways, it is in accord with Griffin's conceptualisation, which in turn had been heavily informed by Payne's previous research on generic and Spanish fascism. As a landmark not only in fascist studies, but also in comparative historical analysis in general, Payne's investigation has been translated into German (2001; Nolzen, 2002).
The third influential author to join this emerging community was Roger Eatwell, who, also during the 1990s, contributed a number of sophisticated theoretical investigations into the concept of generic fascism and the rise of the extreme right (1992, 1993, 1996, 1997a). In addition, Eatwell provided a detailed, but very accessible, analysis of fascism in Germany, France, Italy and Great Britain. He highlighted both continuities between inter- and post-war fascist trends and new developments in the post-war extreme right-wing political spectra of these countries (1995, 1997b). 10
Last but not least, a number of new volumes of collected papers are now providing comprehensive documentation of the development of comparative fascist studies over the last six decades (Griffin, 1998; Kallis, 2003; Blamires, 2005). In particular, Griffin's and Matthew Feldman's 2004 contribution Fascism to Routledge's Critical Concepts in Political Science series constitutes a pioneering project. In five volumes it collect's 100 commented scholarly papers and journalistic articles under the headings ‘The Nature of Fascism’, ‘The Social Dynamics of Fascism’, ‘Fascism and Culture’, ‘The “Fascist Epoch”’, and ‘Post-war Fascisms’.
While retaining some significant distinctions in their approaches to the extreme right, the writings by Payne, Griffin and Eatwell (as well as some other authors today) form the core of an increasing agreement about how fascism is to be understood, defined and studied. 11 To be sure, a number of students of fascism, among them some leading scholars, have ignored this development or rejected Griffin's idea of an emerging consensus as false or undesirable, or both (for instance Renton, 1999; Knox, 2000; Larsen, 2001; Gregor, 2002). Paradoxically, however, some of these critics use conceptualisations of fascism that appear to be broadly compatible with Griffin's, Payne's and Eatwell's (for example Blinkhorn 2000; Paxton, 1998, 2004).
Concepts of Fascism in Russia
Whereas Western scholarship seems to be gradually converging on a more or less commonly accepted conceptualisation of fascism, the Russian interpretation has been going in the opposite direction since the introduction of glasnost, with a multiplication of the meaning of ‘fascism’. Among the most bizarre expressions of the rapid disintegration of this concept in Russia in the mid-1990s have been the announcements of the creation of ‘anti-fascist centres’ by such organizations as the Rossiiskii obshchenardonyi soiuz (Russian All-People's Union) led by Sergei Baburin, as well as by the Pravo-radikal'naia partiia Rossii (Right-Radical Party of Russia) led by Sergei Zharikov and Andrei Arkhipov. It is debatable whether Baburin's steady radicalisation from a moderate to an extreme nationalist during the 1990s led to him becoming fascist, Zharikov and Arkhipov have, from the start of their involvement in politics as Vladimir Zhirinovskii's assistants in the early 1990s, expressed ideas reminiscent of inter-and post-war European fascism, and not concealed their keen interest in Nazism and the post-war Western extreme right (Umland, 1994, 1997).
Russian scholarly research into (and para-scholarly writing on) fascism witnessed at least four distinct trends in the post-Soviet period. 12 First, there are some publicists who still uphold more or less modified versions of the Soviet standard definition of fascism. Surprisingly, for instance, in the same year in which Griffin's reader Fascism (1995c) and Payne's monograph A History of Fascism (1995) appeared, a two-volume Soviet pamphlet on fascism from 1985 was reprinted (Bessonov, 1995). It illustrates three major deficiencies of mainstream Soviet fascist research, which:
had been informed by a misleading, if not absurd notion of fascism,
was often empirically slender, and
paradoxically, used the Italian-derived term fashizm to denote, above all, German Nazism (for example Proektor, 1985). 13
The latter was in contrast to the Western trend discussed above, which hesitated to put Nazism without reservations under the heading of generic fascism (Linz, 1979), or rejected altogether Nazism's membership in the class of fascisms (Gregor, 1968, 1969, 1974, 1979; Sternhell, Sznajder and Asheri, 1994; Sternhell 1996). Moreover, the latently conspiratorial standard Soviet interpretations of fascism as the ‘dictatorship of financial capital’ have sometimes been linked to anti-Semitic trends in Russian publicism, above all to theories that presented (and sometimes still present), Zionism as a form of ‘fascism’ (for instance Obukhov, 1994; Umland, 1999).
Also frequently tied to the above approach has been a second school comprising those authors who conceptualise fascism as a fundamentally Western form of extremism which is, by definition, non-Russian. These observers either prefer to ignore putatively fascist trends (Riabov, 1990), or explicitly exclude even their possibility in Russian society. Thus, for instance, the historian A. Iu. Zudin (1995) voiced an opinion held by many Russian analysts of the post-Soviet political scene when he claimed that right-wing radicalism and fascism are ‘products of Western civilization’, and that those fascist trends that are nevertheless observable in Russia are ‘imported goods’. 14
Thirdly, there are a number of publicists who use the term liberally, and who call ‘fascist’ a broad variety of authoritarian and nationalist tendencies, even those in the Russian liberal movement (for example, Pavlovskii, 1994). Occasionally, this approach continues a practice that had been present in the Soviet period, and that, for instance, meant that ‘fascism’ was used to mark such different phenomena as US conservatism, west European social democracy and Chinese communism. Some of the authors within this post-Soviet trend follow an inclination that has also been present in the Western study of fascism, and seems, in view of recent research, to have gained legitimacy: they extend the concept of fascism in such a way as to also include in this class the ideologies of some officially communist but de facto heavily nationalistic totalitarian regimes such as Stalin's. 15 In as far as there have appeared a number of important studies since 1945 that underline the relevance of nationalist as well as anti-Semitic trends during high Stalinism (and after) and shed new light on the rapprochement between the USSR and Nazi Germany in 1939–1940, such an approach seems not entirely unjustified. 16 It has gained additional relevance in connection with the growth of manifest nationalist tendencies in the post-Soviet Russian communist movement (Bugera, 1994; Vujačić, 1994; Gregor, 1998). However, the usefulness of this approach is lost when, for instance, Samoilov (1993), in his three-volume comparative analysis of Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Mao etc., defines fascism as ‘hunger for power’, or ‘evil’ expressed in political terms. Samoilov goes on to call Boris El'tsin and other liberal politicians with authoritarian tendencies ‘pro-’ or ‘half-fascist’. 17
A fourth tendency seems to draw on earlier Soviet research on Western concepts of fascism under the heading of ‘critique of bourgeois theorizing’ (for example Gintsberg, 1971; Gossweiler, 1971, 1975; Rakhshmir, 1975, 1979, 1981), and continues some relatively enlightened approaches in late Soviet-Russian research on fascism (for example Galkin, 1970, 1971). Interestingly, these trends are also represented by a number of researchers outside Moscow and St. Petersburg such as, for example, by Valerii Mikhailenko (1987), and the late Valentin Bukhanov (1991, 1994, 1998) at the Faculties of History and International Relations of the Urals State University at Ekaterinburg. This emerging school is so far in accordance with recent trends in Western fascist theorizing as it:
used to pay only lip-service to the orthodox Soviet definition of fascism;
does not use ‘fascism’ as a synonym for either German Nazism, Western right-wing political forces in general, or for all totalitarian regimes; and
does not misuse the term ‘fascist’ to label all sorts of historic or contemporary Russian, Jewish or Western politicians who have done or are suspected to have done some damage to Russian imperial interests.
Sometimes this tendency still departs from Western interpretations of fascism when, for instance, it includes Franco's regime in the class of fascist dictatorships (Mazurov, 1993). However, in general, this fourth trend in Russian theorizing about fascism is well-informed about western research on fascism, and either implicitly or explicitly reflects upon its main findings (for example Igritskii, 1990; Galkin, 1992; Rakhshmir, 1996).
Moreover, it is intriguing that, in 1995, the foremost Russian representative of this trend and doyen of Russian fascist studies, academician Alexander Abramovich Galkin (b. 1922) did, for Russia, a job somewhat similar to the one that Griffin had performed for Western fascist studies a couple of years before. Without yet having learnt of Griffins’ formula ‘palingenetic ultranationalism’, Galkin condensed his previous conceptualisations of fascism into the notion of ‘right-wing conservative revolutionarism’. Galkin added that fascism
[…] tries to overcome real contradictions in society, and to destroy everything that appears to it as hindrances for the preservation and rebirth of the peculiarly understood eternal fundamentals of being (Galkin, 1995, p. 10; see also Schützler, 2000, p. 235).
Though, arguably, less lucid than Griffin's concept (and probably oxymoronic), Galkin's approach resembles it in both its intent and substance. It too:
provides a succinct definition of what is to be studied by researchers of fascism;
focuses on the ideological core rather than the political style or institutional manifestations of fascism; and
sees fascism as a combination of extremely right-wing and palingenetic ideas.
Finally, this fourth school is also largely in agreement with Western comparative research into neo-fascism in acknowledging the presence of some striking resemblances between the inter-war and post-Soviet situations, and in recognising fascist tendencies in Russia (Galkin, 1994; Galkin and Krasin, 1994, 1995).
Western and Russian Approaches to Russian Fascism
The last issue mentioned illustrates a major reason why these developments are relevant. It might be an overstatement to speak of a ‘Weimar Russia’ (Ianov, 1995) and threat of a Russian fascist regime (Kurashvili, 1994; Pribylovsky, 1995). But the emerging post-Soviet political scene, including parliamentary and extra-parliamentary parties as well as a growing ‘uncivil society’, does pose the question of how to adequately conceptualise its various right-wing extremist trends, and whether or not ‘fascism’ might be a useful concept here (Umland, 2002). Moreover, several Russian extremely right-wing politicians, including Zhirinovskii, have taken democratic activists to court labelling them as ‘fascists’ (Gaidar, 1994; Iadov, 1994; Umland, 1994). In the mid-1990s, the issue of Russian fascism became the subject of a parliamentary hearing of the State Duma (O preduprezhdenii …, 1995) as well as of a special Decree by President Boris El'tsin (Umland, 1997).
In recent scholarly studies of Russian fascism, one can observe two contradictory trends. On the one side, there is a tendency among many observers both in the West and Russia to use the term ‘fascism’ primarily or only with regard to those ideologies that are mimetically fascist, that is those which, to one degree or another, imitate inter-war varieties of fascism, above all German Nazism. 18 Therefore, strong attention is often paid to Aleksandr Barkashov's neo-Nazi Russkoe Natsional'noe Edinstvo (Russian National Unity). For instance, the RNE is the organization that Stephen Shenfield (1998, 2001) has most heavily focused on in his well-informed research into Russian fascism, (though, one should add, in his excellent surveys he dealt extensively with other trends too). Other observers identify ‘fascism’ with the swastika, the Roman salute, biological racism, etc. Some even seem to be only prepared to allow the term's application, if the putative fascist in question explicitly pays tribute to Hitler, Mussolini, Codreanu, and their likes.
Such an approach is paradoxical in two ways. First, the German Nazis themselves rejected the label ‘fascism’. They pointed out the differences between their ideology and Italian Fascism, in many respects rightly so. The same logic that allowed comparativists to, nevertheless, classify Nazism as ‘fascist’ (Griffin, 1993b) should apply to post-Soviet Russian nationalist ideologies too. If one uses ‘fascism’ in the generic sense, its application should depend on the respective ideology's structural proximity to the ideal-type, and not on the absence or presence of some external trappings of a particular kind of historic fascism. This is even truer in so far as the specific permutation of fascism referred to here (Nazism) did not give generic fascism its name but, rather, represented its most extreme manifestation.
A limitation of ‘fascism's’ application to only those Russian groupings that imitate the German Nazis and their fascist allies in World War Two is misleading in a second way too. Naturally, the more serious representatives of Russian ultranationalism avoid being associated with a regime that slaughtered millions of eastern Slavs. What else would one expect from an authentic Russian ultranationalist than to be genuinely outraged about his (less probably: her) equation with a movement that was as radically anti-Russian as the Nazis? 19 At least in some sense, after World War II, a patriotic Russian neo-Nazi is a contradiction in terms. One could thus argue that Barkashov is right in claiming that the RNE is not a form of Russian fascism – in as far as it is not really Russian.
One the other side, there are some observers who have employed the term ‘Nazism’ rather than ‘fascism’ for classifying a whole range of different varieties of late or post-Soviet Russian ultranationalism. For instance, Semyon Reznik (1991, 1996) and Viacheslav Likhachev (2003) have used natsizm in the titles of their broad surveys of large sections of the Russian extreme right. As I have argued elsewhere such a terminological solution is unfortunate (Umland, 1997, 2001). By utilising the term ‘Nazism’ for all sorts of fascist (and, perhaps, even non-fascist nationalist) ideologies, we lose our ability to identify ‘real’ Nazis. If we use ‘Nazism’ as a label for those who reject any affinity to Hitler's ideology (even though their basic ideas might be structurally similar) then how would we call those who, indeed, manifestly copy the ideas and style of the NSDAP, and who, perhaps, would not even deny their ideological debt to the Third Reich? 20
Conclusions
There is a certain discrepancy in international right-wing studies today. While Western comparative theorising about fascism and right-wing extremism in general has made significant advances during the last decade, the attention of Western comparativists to recent Russian developments has remained limited. Only a few of the leading scholars in the field have started to incorporate post-Soviet developments in their comparisons of international fascism (Gregor, 1999, pp. 145–70, 2000, pp. 107–27; Laqueur, 1997, pp. 178–96). Most Western surveys of the international extreme right mention Russian developments only en passant. As a result of paying little attention to the existing scholarly literature (even that in Western languages), such surveys sometimes contain factual mistakes (as with Davies and Lynch, 2002; Merkl and Weinberg, 2003). This state of affairs is regrettable because the post-Soviet extremely right-wing political scene provides a rather multifarious picture. Potentially, the varieties of Russian putatively fascist groupings are politically more relevant than the thoroughly researched, but often marginal or politically inconsequential, extremely right-wing trends in contemporary Western Europe, a subject covered by hundreds of articles and books.
On the other side, the Russian community of researchers of fascism is still struggling to free itself from various abuses of the concept, and to catch up with recent Western research. Because of the dire financial situation of Russian libraries, universities and research institutes, the majority of Russian specialists remain outside the main debates in the West. Russian students of fascism will have limited access to Western scholarly literature and be unable to attend many relevant conferences outside Russia. Thus it understandable that writings of Russian scholars even within the above mentioned fourth group are unaware of recent advances in Western comparative fascist studies with only a few exceptions (for example Prokopov, 2001). For objective reasons, in the foreseeable future the best that many Russian researchers will be able to contribute to international comparative fascist studies are thorough and reliable descriptions of the historic or contemporary varieties of Russian fascism (such as Verkhovskii, Papp and Pribylovskii, 1995; Verkhovskii, Pribylovskii and Mikhailovskaia, 1998; Okorokov, 2001; Likhachev, 2003; see also Gabovich, 2003).
For these reasons, it would be helpful for both the development of international fascist studies and a better understanding of current Russian anti-democratic trends, if Western comparativists paid more attention to the wide variety of putatively fascist phenomena in post-Soviet Russia. In view of recent developments in Russia, it seems that a more systematic integration of Russian and Western findings on the post-Soviet Russian extreme right into comparative fascist studies could become beneficial not only for purely academic, but also practical-political reasons.
Footnotes
1
In using this metaphor, I am alluding here, of course, to the frequent complaint about fascism in Western studies that the concept is suffering from ‘inflation’ or ‘deflation’.
2
I would refer those interested in getting a fuller picture of recent Western comparative fascist studies to other review articles, for example those by Payne, 1993, 2000; Griffin, 1997, 2001; Nolzen, 2002; or Morgan, 2003, and especially to the forthcoming third 2004 issue of Erwägen Wissen Ethik, 15 (13).
3
For example, Allardyce, 1979; Pfeiler, 2001; and some contributions to Wippermann and Loh, 2002.
4
Notably, this has been admitted by some well-informed German scholars including Wippermann (Wippermann and Loh, 2002); Reichhardt (2002, p. 7); and
. The degree of the relative seclusion of German Nazismusforschung from Anglophone comparative fascist studies is a major issue of a controversy in the above-mentioned third 2004 issue of Erwägen Wissen Ethik, 15 (13).
5
For example, Thamer and Wippermann, 1977; Wippermann, 1983, 1997; Woller 1999; Wippermann and Loh, 2002. See also Umland, 2000b.
6
Even critics of Griffin's approach have acknowledged the relevance of his work. For example, Pearce (1997, p. 127) conceded that Griffin's The Nature of Fascism is ‘complex but does repay detailed study’. Blinkhorn (2000, p. 102) admitted that Griffin's ideal-type ‘has unquestionably given a major new twist to our view and understanding of fascism’. Shenfield (2001, p. 17) observed that Griffin's definition is ‘both influential and illuminating’.
7
The qualification concerning Anglo-Saxon theorizing has to be made as, for instance, Wolfgang Wippermann's important comparative study of European fascism from 1922 to 1982 was published in 1983. Obviously, there were also some noteworthy English-language studies published during the 1980s. However, they did not seem to have as deep an impact on comparative fascist studies as, for instance, Payne's brief survey of 1980 (1980b) or Griffin's monograph (1991, 1993a).
8
On the usefulness of Griffin's taxonomy for empirical research, see also the entire discussion in Erwägen Wissen Ethik, 15 (13).
9
For example Griffin, 1993b, 1993c, 1995a, 1995b, 1996, 1998b, 1999a, 1999b, 2000a, 2000b, 2000c, 2000d, 2000e, 2002b, 2002c, 2002d, and his contributions to Erwägen Wissen Ethik, 15 (13).
10
See also, more recently, Eatwell, 2002,
. A fourth author who should be mentioned here is Emilio Gentile whose writings are often also seen as having been particularly influential. Alas, as I do not read Italian, I have to leave it at merely mentioning Gentile here.
11
For example Copsey, 1994; Prowe, 1994; Baker, 1996; Kallis, 2000a, 2000b, 2003a, 2003b, 2004a, 2004b; Reichhardt, 2002. See also Erwägen Wissen Ethik, 15 (13).
12
See also the discussions in Tolstykh, Galkin, Loginov and Buzgalin, 1995; Galaktionov, 1999; Schützler, 2000.
13
Recent treatments of this issues include Nevezhin, 1997; Payne, 2003; and Gabowitsch, 2003, pp. 320–23. Gabowitsch's essay provides lucid explanations for some pathologies of Soviet and post-Soviet Russian views on fascism.
14
Zudin is also quoted by Schützler, 2000, p. 236.
15
The major Western represantative of this approach is the doyen of US fascist studies, A. James Gregor (1968, 1969, 1974, 1979, 1999, 2000).
16
17
For a critique, see Zamkovoi, 1994, p. 4.
18
Surveys of post-Soviet Russian ultra-nationalism have been provided by, for instance, Ianov, 1995; Verkhovskii, Papp and Pribylovskii, 1995; Ivanov, 1996; Simonsen, 1996; Verkhovskii, Pribylovskii and Mikhailovskaia, 1998; Allensworth, 1998; Devlin, 1999; Shenfield, 2001; and Rossman, 2002.
19
On Nazi anti-Slavism, see, for instance, Dallin, 1981; Borejsza, 1988; Volkmann, 1994; Wippermann, 1996; Connelly, 1999; Schaller, 2002.
20
A somewhat similar problem exists when using the term ‘fascism’ as it was originally the name of a particular Italian ideology. Here, however, it has become customary, in international comparative fascist studies, to explicitly distinguish between generic fascism and Italian Fascism. This is done, in English, by capitalization of ‘Fascism’ when the Italian variety is meant, and, in German, by usage of the term Italofaschismus as distinct from allgemeiner Faschismus.
