During the First World War, a certain British writer was sternly asked: “Why are you not at the front, not fighting for civilization?” He replied, "Because I am the civilization that is being fought for." Who exactly said these words is not known: rumor ascribes them to (most often) the Oxford philologist H.W. Garrod, then the Irish writer Lord Dunsany, then W.B. Yeats, then George Bernard Shaw…[1]
In any case, this is a very meaningful answer, where English humor is combined with a serious idea. On the one hand, the speaker is ironic about the lofty words that justified the world massacre. In fact, he makes it clear, there is nothing sacred and superhuman in these words, even this private gentleman can embody “civilization” – and is it really worth fighting for him? And what, exactly, threatens him? On the other hand, he chooses for himself some kind of non-trivial role in history – not completely independent of what is happening, but isolated; necessary in the war, but not quite military. He is not a home front worker, not a retired patriarch and not the mother of a family, whom it would be natural to protect, but a writer, an intellectual, a man of culture that can be called civilization (however, it was in 1914 that these two words were the slogans of enemies – respectively Germany and Entente). He not only does not mobilize for the front, but in the rear he does nothing to win – he does not glorify domestic weapons, does not cheer up the timid, does not stigmatize enemies; in the confusion of battles he keeps a proud immobility. His position is extraterritorial and anachronistic, like some unreliable island of peace during a war: the people around him are absorbed in the present, the development of hostilities, and he associates himself with the heritage of the past, the source of culture or civilization. That is why he is also ironic about himself – a strange paradoxical person who does not live like everyone else, literally not of this world. His phrase may seem boldly arrogant: you need to take on a lot to equate yourself with an entire culture, in fact, separating yourself from your own compatriots, who are only “protecting” it. But, if you think about it, culture or civilization is really formed, first of all, not by dead monuments, but by living people who behave in accordance with it, and the first duty of an intellectual is precisely to recognize himself as such.
Culture or civilization is formed not by dead monuments, but by living people who behave in accordance with it.
The same position can be defined in another way, when the “culture” that resists military ruin is placed not in the past, but in the post-war future: it should not only be defended, but restored anew, rebuilt according to the mind. Antoine de Saint-Exupery was thinking about this already in the midst of the next, World War II. He himself is a military pilot, a soldier fighting for his homeland, for his "spiritual culture – the heir of Christian values"[2]; but he always remembers other people – civilians who remain under occupation, in a country occupied by the enemy. He not only seeks to free them, but also puts their current mission above his own, recognizes them as the foundation of civilization: “Now we are not creating France. We can only serve her. <…> One measure cannot measure the freedom of battle and oppression in the darkness of enslavement. The craft of a soldier and the craft of a hostage cannot be measured with the same measure.
Today, the word "hostage" is usually understood in a simplified sense, only in connection with bandit or terrorist attacks; this is the name of an accidental victim of violence, perhaps delayed. Actually, Saint-Exupery, using this word, had in mind, first of all, the real executions of hostages with which the Nazis intimidated the population of France. However, he remembered another concept of "hostage" – ancient, rich in meaning. In traditional societies, it meant people who forcibly or voluntarily surrendered into the hands of foreigners as a living pledge of political relations with them. This is reminiscent of etymology: for example, the French word otage and the English hostage (hostage) come from the Latin hostis (cf. Russian “guest”), which could mean both “enemy” and simply “foreigner”. Being a hostage is an honorable duty, it was often assigned to noble people who "visited" among a foreign people, enjoying their respect. True, in the event of a conflict, a break in relations, their lives were in danger, that is, they were not only ambassadors, but also possible victims, without any diplomatic immunity. Their alien and vulnerable position gave them a unique symbolic value: they directly, in their own person, embodied that society, that tradition, from which they were.
After February 2022, the people of Russia are sometimes called a “hostage” in a passive, apologetic sense: they say they are not responsible for themselves, because they are helpless before the authorities and dutifully assimilate its lies (“Stockholm syndrome”); they also try to justify officials with a “liberal” reputation who continue to work for the ruling regime (“he/she is a hostage”). But the fact of the matter is that hostage-taking has another, active meaning, it can be a conscious "craft", and this depends on the time perspective in which it is inscribed: passive hostage-taking is riveted to the present, to the urgent tasks of survival, and active directed to the future, when the time comes to rebuild what was destroyed by the war. It also has a spatial meaning: to be a representative of the world civilization, from which today they are trying to fence off and tear Russia away, and where it will be difficult for her to return.
Active hostage-taking is directed towards the future, when it is time to rebuild the war-ravaged
In this sense, "hostage" can almost be a synonym for "citizen" – a citizen of his country and a citizen of the world – and it is this concept, in all its ambiguity, that describes the current situation of the thinking people of Russia, those who link it and their own fate with the culture of the West , "the heiress of Christian values." In any case, no other, more suitable names for such people have yet been invented – do not remember the ridiculed “good Russians” by everyone … Apart from them, there is no one to defend either the Russian culture of the past, which today was almost decided to be “cancelled”, or “ beautiful Russia of the future,” which seems less feasible than ever. They are stuck in the vague present, "visiting" him in captivity – hostages not of eternity, according to the beautiful expression of the poet, but of some other, still poorly defined time and space.
Historical analogies only partly describe their situation. The war of 1914 was imperialistic for Britain, but at least not aggressive, and the current Russian citizen is in a more tragic position than the then paradoxicalist – he is not in the mood for jokes. No matter how much he mentally solidifies with European civilization, it is difficult for him to say “at the front they are fighting for me”, because his state is fighting against this civilization, and defending it, relying on international support, is the army of another, foreign state, which does not care about like him (she has her own, completely different concerns). The historical situation of Saint-Exupery is not very suitable as an analogy either: Russia was not occupied by an external invader, and its population – if, of course, to believe some polls – itself in the majority supports the policy of the government, that is, whatever one may say, is responsible for it. However, the population of France to a large extent approved of the collaborationism of Marshal Pétain. For those who reject this policy, the humiliating nickname “foreign agents” was invented in advance: not political opponents, not internal enemies, as in the civil war, not even spies (a respectable profession in a country led by a secret police officer), but some petty "national traitors", irresponsible puppets who are pulled by the strings from abroad. For decades, military-patriotic propaganda has been suggesting that when blood is shed, it is imperative to be for “our own”, otherwise you will become a stranger, a foreign body. Like the hostages of terrorists, many found themselves in this role unwittingly and unforeseen – they lived for themselves, worked, and suddenly the whole life around took on some kind of monstrous appearance, as if turned inside out. Some hurried to go abroad, others stayed, consciously or due to circumstances (and still, perhaps temporarily); sometimes ridiculous skirmishes break out between the two, as if civic duty depends on geographical location, as if a person is not responsible for the country in which he grew up, wherever he is now.
But what is this duty, and what is the trade of a hostage?
At first glance, there is little he can do, doomed to wait idly until his fate changes. Staying at home, he is defenseless against the repressive machine, and being abroad, he is compromised by his connection with the aggressor country. Not authorized by anyone, not assigned for his mission, he cannot serve as an ambassador and negotiator, he is not recognized as such by any side in the conflict. Authoritarian power does not allow him to serve as a colonial missionary or "progressor" – a positive "foreign agent" who guides the local population on the path of truth.
A hostage is generally forbidden to speak, at least a political word that denounces and directs: the space of public speech is filled with the roar of ideological jammers, and attempts to speak out independently are stopped by arrests, fines, and now even prison sentences. The muteness is reproduced, to which alien, inferior elements of society are forced and which Michel Foucault wrote about when explaining the ancient Greek concept of “parrhesia”, “telling the truth”: “When you live in your own policy, you can speak; but when you are not in your polis, you have no parrhesia. <…> At the same time, one who does not have parrhesia is forced to endure the stupidity of the owner, his madness … ”[4] Today, however, everything has turned upside down: it’s rather an emigrant who can speak the truth freely – but how many people will hear him? – while the one living in his own country has to keep silent and "tolerate the stupidity of the owner", his warlike madness. At home, he found himself in a "foreign policy."
That is why the word of a hostage only sometimes sounds openly and often avoids direct political conclusions. The point here is not only censorship, supported by denunciations, but also the fact that in a military situation, direct political discussion is generally fruitless. It is rightly said that its subject is not truth, but identity, when people mentally ask themselves not “who is right?”, but “who are ours here?”. Therefore, the political word is not able to convince anyone, it, at most, reinforces the already established readiness to support those and not others, which is what state propaganda uses, appealing not to the critical mind of people, but to their sense of national community. Of course, this feeling did not freeze once and for all, it gradually changes, the collective identity is recreated – but not in discussions, but due to the events taking place around. You can only convince those who have already been convinced by life.
Today, in order to be heard not only by like-minded people, one has to talk not about politics as such, but about current life, about morality and, again, about culture. Indeed, culture is not only museums and concerts, it is also, for example, a language that can call a spade a spade. Now he is under the yoke of censorship and propaganda, which prohibit the utterance of exact words and plant instead other, evasive simulacrum words: "external restrictions", "discredit", "special operation". The last expression is the main lie from which the state will not back down (even now, in October 2022): the ban on calling war a war, the replacement of a well-known word with a miserable euphemism. The meaning of such a taboo is not only to underestimate the scale of events (like “pop” instead of “explosion”), but also in the fact that an operation, no matter what – military or surgical, is judged only by its effectiveness: success or failure. And for war there is also another, moral criterion – whether it is fair or not, in one's own country or in a foreign one, for freedom or for booty. The business of the conscious hostage is to oppose euphemisms and in every possible way to remind the true words, meaning that the nation has not only interests (which still need to be correctly understood!), but also moral obligations. This is what distinguishes a civilized nation from a wild one. And the protection of civilization presupposes the protection of the language from distortions – it is not for nothing that the author of the legendary phrase “I am civilization” was a professional word: either a writer or a philologist.
Culture is not only museums and concerts, it is also a language that can call a spade a spade
The word of the hostage is quiet, even when spoken in public, and this has its advantage: it allows you to express something significant, which is the only way to express it. Invectives, prophecies and appeals are publicly uttered, often one-sided, sometimes simply false, regardless of the good intentions of the speaker. On the contrary, the voice of conscience is always quiet, and the voice of reason is often the same. Today, when many people around, justifiably or not, break into a cry, only in such a restrained tone can one speak of their unification. No, not about universal, indiscriminate tolerance: those who are directly involved in atrocities, who are defiled by their support and curry favor with their superiors, have to be removed, and the means for this can be, for example, guild solidarity. Communities of knowledgeable and skillful, scientists, creative people – people of culture – still exist and are able to at least say "no" and not shake hands with those who betray their profession for the sake of opportunistic gain. But if you still think not only about the present, but also about the future, then it is more important for him not to fight against opponents (“politics” according to Karl Schmitt), but to search for an alliance and harmony, despite the cold civil war, which replaces any reasonable thought with a game on a sense of identity (“are you ours or not?”) and provokes gaps even between close, dear people. To remain firm in one's convictions, without succumbing to the temptation of blind intransigence, without multiplying irrational hatred, is also a way to resist war that divides people.
The word hostage often sounds lonely and out of place. Many of his compatriots, considering themselves powerless to change anything in what is happening, try not to think about it at all, push it out of their minds – and official propaganda helps them in this, replacing reality with an embellished television picture. They are even ready to feast during the plague, turning a blind eye to it, naively assuring each other that "everything will be fine." A reminder of the war seems to them just as inappropriate as a reminder of death (which, in fact, is akin to it), and the reminder turns out to be the trouble-fête, the one who spoils the holiday, like an old priest in Pushkin's tragedy. This happens precisely because he is concerned not with the present, but with the future – that still distant day when people who today call each other either “bought” or “zombified” will finally have to honestly explain themselves to each other: and those for whom to be being a patriot means to persevere in the war to the end, and those who, out of patriotism, also demand an end to it. The hostage's craft is to work in view of this future moment of truth, which few people still think about and until which he himself may not live – then the next generation will have to explain and agree.
The trade of the hostage is to work in view of this future moment of truth, which few people think about yet and which he himself may not live to see.
Misunderstanding also threatens him from the people of the neighboring country, which involuntarily has become an enemy of Russia, suffers heavy losses and courageously resists aggression. From their point of view, concern not for the present, but for the future may seem like an evasive position “above the fight”, almost collaborationism, and the very name “hostage” is misappropriated. They can say (sometimes they say something like this): it is not you who are hostages, but we, our peaceful women and children whom you are killing. Such harsh words cannot be argued with; one can only respond to them with one’s own behavior, not being afraid to remain in a minority, few people approve, and hope that one day the time will come when soldiers on the one side and hostages on the other side of the front will be recognized as standing, albeit in different ways, for one common case.
In general, the main duty, the main service of a hostage is a special kind of moral asceticism. It requires even not so much to do or say something special, but to be, to keep one's specialness as a guarantee of civilization. This is expressed in a capacious metaphor – to keep a face.
Emmanuel Levinas wrote that the face is a visible manifestation of otherness and insubordination: “Here we have an attitude not of powerful resistance, but of something completely different: this is the resistance of that which does not resist, moral resistance”[5]. Only man has a face; его нет у животных, а война отнимает его и у людей — на нынешней, еще с 2014 года, солдаты часто скрывают свои лица и личные имена (или это делают за них репортеры и редакторы). Тем более необходимы сейчас те, кто не поддается обезличиванию, кто сохраняет лицо если не на фронте, то в тылу, пусть даже для всего света это тыл врага. Лицо бывает — обязательно, по определению — у свидетеля, чей опыт будет востребован лишь впоследствии, и свидетельствовать — это тоже одна из функций заложника, который смотрит на окружающих одновременно и вблизи и отстраненно и умеет рассказать о своем опыте. Опираясь на этот опыт, он, возможно, станет для кого-то советчиком.
У «лица» есть и буквальный, неметафорический смысл, знакомый всем по повседневному общению. Многие человеческие контакты завязываются через мимику, взгляд, улыбку — когда люди, даже без всяких слов, опознают друг в друге подобных себе, объединенных общими чувствами, возможных единомышленников. Милитаристское государство недаром стремится ликвидировать или жестко контролировать места, где можно встретиться и увидеть друг друга: сначала это были только политические митинги, потом очередь дошла и до передовых театров. Собрание людей, видящих лица и опознающих друг друга, — это зачаток социальности и гражданственности, в отличие от толпы, где никто не смотрит другим в глаза и все обезличены общей (часто еще и низкой) страстью. Такого взаимного предстояния лицом к лицу не заменят интернет и электронные системы видеосвязи, к которым всех приучила недавняя пандемия, — в них можно видеть не живых людей, а только их бесплотные, нигде не укорененные образы. Поэтому, с точки зрения политики, в плане настоящего нужно, чтобы в стране оставались — насколько это возможно — свободные граждане, демонстрирующие соотечественникам свое лицо, как корабли на море демонстрируют флаг. Их положение выгоднее, чем у тех, кто может показывать себя лишь издалека, и, выполняя эту обязанность личного присутствия, некоторые политические борцы не остановились даже перед прямой угрозой тюрьмы. Но с точки зрения цивилизации, в перспективе будущего не столь существенно, кто где находится, потому что исторически все в одном положении: не отдельные люди, а вся национальная культура должна осознать свой долг — она сама подобна заложнице, и ей надо теперь держать, сохранять лицо.
Левинас писал, что лицо — форма «нравственного сопротивления». И действительно, общественная жизнь в стране перешла в режим Сопротивления — диффузной, для кого-то просто подпольной деятельности, почти лишенной открытого политического представительства. Когда оппозиционные политики сидят за решеткой, изгнаны из страны или принуждены к молчанию, гражданин должен представительствовать сам за себя, в тех пределах, в каких он может это сделать, — словом, мыслью, поступком, упорным присутствием в виду других. Когда-то, как в «Марсельезе», граждан звали к оружию, нынешнее же Сопротивление мирное, и, пока в страну не вернулась публичная политика, его оплотом остаются мораль и культура. Это не то же самое, что называют «внутренней эмиграцией»: заложник не скрывается, он заявляет о себе лицом и словом; у него остаются еще и кое-какие формы действия, например, антивоенное волонтерство (помощь беженцам, жертвам репрессий); есть и смелые люди, которые выходят на протест и подвергаются преследованиям. Всё это само по себе не остановит войну, но поможет сберечь смыслы, те истинные ценности, которые понадобятся позднее, когда война закончится. Суть Сопротивления и миссия сознательного заложника именно в этом: помнить, что в трагической и позорной истории, куда попали люди России, есть не только настоящее, но и будущее, оно непременно наступит и о нем уже сейчас стоит заботиться.
В «Письме заложнику» Сент-Экзюпери предрекал, что новое осмысление жизни должно прийти из глубины унижения, которое терпит оккупированная страна: «Вас сорок миллионов, и все вы — заложники. Новые истины всегда вызревают под гнетом во мраке подземелий: там, во Франции, в сознании сорока миллионов заложников, рождается сейчас новая истина»[6]. Исторически случилось именно так: в годы Сопротивления (в котором морально участвовали не только партизаны и подпольщики, но и многие сочувствовавшие им люди) Франция пережила подъем интеллектуальной и художественной культуры и, несмотря на военный разгром 1940 года, восстановила свой мировой авторитет благодаря силе своих идей. Сегодня русскую культуру иногда винят в сообщничестве с империалистическим государством; правда состоит в том, что она не сумела удержать страну от сползания к катастрофе. Осознав свое достоинство заложницы, она сможет отстоять себя как часть мировой цивилизации, заслуживающую того, чтобы ее защищать.
————————————————-
[1] См.: https://quoteinvestigator.com/2015/11/09/i-am/
[2] [3]
Де Сент-Экзюпери А. Военный летчик / пер. с франц. А.Н. Тетеревниковой. В кн.: Он же. Сочинения. М.: Книжная палата, 2000. С. 303.
Он же. Письмо заложнику (1943) / пер. с франц. Н. Галь. В кн.: Там же. С. 326. В оригинальном тексте – «nous ne fondons pas la France», буквально «мы не основываем Францию».
[4] Фуко М. Речь и истина: Лекции о парресии / пер. с франц. Д. Кралечкина. М.: Дело, 2020. С. 36.
[5] Левинас Э. Избранное: Тотальность и бесконечное / пер. с франц. И.С. Вдовиной. М., СПб.: Университетская книга, 2000. С. 204.
[6] Антуан де Сент-Экзюпери. Цит. соч. С. 326.
Сборник «Перед лицом катастрофы» можно скачать здесь .