Demons

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

talking about manifestos. Tell me everything — what’s your opinion of them?’ ‘Everyone’s afraid of them, therefore they’re powerful. They openly expose deceit and prove that we have nothing to grab on to, and nothing to lean on. They speak loudly, while everyone else remains silent. What’s most successful about them (despite their form) is the boldness with which they stare truth straight in the face, which has been unheard-of until now. Only one Russian generation commands this ability to look truth straight in the face. No, they’re not yet so bold in Europe; there it’s a kingdom of stone, there’s still something to lean on. As far as I can see and as far as I can judge, the whole essence of the Russian revolutionary idea is contained in the denial of honour. I’m pleased that this is so boldly and fearlessly expressed. No, in Europe they can’t yet understand this, but here in Russia this is precisely what they will seize upon. For a Russian, honour is only an unnecessary burden. What’s more, it has always been a burden, for his entire history. He can be carried away by an open “right to dishonour” 20 sooner than anything else. I’m of the old generation, and I still stand for honour, I admit it, but it’s really only out of habit. The only reason I like the old forms is, let’s say, out of faint-heartedness; one really must finish out one’s days somehow.’

the first thing that has a tremendous effect is a uniform. There’s nothing more powerful than a uniform. I make a point of dreaming up ranks and offices: I have secretaries, secret agents, treasurers, chairmen, registrars, their colleagues — it’s a lot of fun and it has really caught on. After that, the second most powerful force is, of course, sentimentality. You know, socialism in Russia is spreading primarily out of sentimentality. But the trouble is all these second lieutenants who go around biting people; every once in a while you run across them. Then come the out-and-out crooks. Well, maybe they’re a good bunch of people, sometimes very useful, but a lot of time is spent on them, they require constant watching. Well then, finally there’s the most important force, the cement that binds everything: the shame of their own opinion. Now there’s a force for you! And who was it that worked so hard, who was this “sweetie-pie” 24 who toiled away so diligently that no one else has a single idea of his own left in his head! They would consider that shameful.’

Here you are, counting on your fingers the forces that go to make up circles? All that’s just bureaucracy and sentimentality — all that’s good glue, but there’s something that’s even better: put four members of a circle up to bumping off a fifth, on the pretext that he’s going to inform, and the blood that’s been spilled will immediately bind them together in a single knot. They will become your slaves, they won’t dare to rebel or ask for an accounting.

Here they are proposing to us, through various secret pamphlets of foreign manufacture, that we should join ranks and form small groups for the sole purpose of creating mass destruction, under the pretext that since you can’t treat the world, you can’t cure anything, and that if you’re radical enough to cut off a hundred million heads and thereby lighten your burden, you can jump across the ditch more confidently.

I am asking you what you value more: the slow way, consisting of the writing of social novels and bureaucratic attempts to come to decisions on paper about human destiny for the next thousand years, while despotism swallows up the roasted morsels of meat which would fly into your mouths by themselves and which you are not allowing your mouths to catch; or do you hold to a quick solution, whatever it may consist of, but which will untie people’s hands once and for all and will give mankind the freedom to build its own society, and that in fact, not on paper. People cry: “A hundred million heads”. That’s perhaps just a metaphor, but why be afraid of them, if despotism, with its slow paper daydreams, in a hundred years or so will consume not a hundred but five hundred million heads?

‘He’s got spying down. He has each member of society watching the others and obliged to inform. Each belongs to all, and all to each. All are slaves, and are equal in their slavery. In extreme cases, there’s slander and murder, but the main thing is equality. The first thing is to lower the level of education, science and accomplishment.1 A high level of science and accomplishment is accessible only to people of high ability, and there’s no need for high ability! People of high ability have always seized power and been despots. People of high ability can’t help but be despots and have always corrupted more than they have brought benefit; they are sent into exile or executed. Cicero had his tongue cut out, Copernicus had his eyes put out, Shakespeare2 was stoned — that’s Shigalyovism! Slaves should be equal; without despotism there has never yet been either freedom or equality, but there should be equality in the herd, and that’s Shigalyovism! Ha, ha, ha. Do you find that strange? I’m for Shigalyovism!’

There’s no need for education, enough of science! Even without science there’s enough material for a thousand years, but obedience has to be established. There’s only one thing lacking in the world: obedience. The thirst for education is nothing but an aristocratic thirst. No sooner do we have the family or love than the desire for private property arises. We will kill desire: we will foster drunkenness, gossip, denunciation; we will foster unheard-of depravity; we will stifle every genius in its infancy. Everything reduced to a common denominator, complete equality.

‘That cannot be, Pyotr Stepanovich. Socialism is too great an idea for Stepan Trofimovich not to recognize it,’ said Yuliya Mikhaylovna, vigorously taking his part. ‘The idea is great, but those who profess it are not always giants, et brisons-là, mon cher,’12 Stepan Trofimovich concluded, turning to his son and rising handsomely from his seat.

In troubled times, times of uncertainty or transition, various low types of people always and everywhere appear. I’m not talking about those so-called ‘advanced’ people who are always rushing ahead of everyone else (their main concern), albeit very often with a purpose that’s extremely stupid, but is nonetheless more or less definite. No, I’m talking here only about the riff-raff. The riff-raff that exists in every society rises to the surface in any time of transition, and is utterly devoid not only of any goal, but even the slightest indication of an idea, and merely gives expression to restlessness and impatience as forcefully as it can.

what a shameful passion our great minds have for clever talk in the higher sense! A great European philosopher, a great scholar, an inventor, a toiler, a martyr — all these people who toil and are heavy laden12 are, for our great Russian genius, nothing more than cooks in his kitchen. He is the master, and they appear before him with toques in hand and await his orders. To be sure, he also mocks Russia superciliously, and he finds nothing more pleasant than to declare to the great minds of Europe that Russia is bankrupt in all respects, but as far as he himself is concerned, no indeed, he has already risen above these great minds of Europe; for him they are all just material for his clever talk. He takes someone else’s idea, tacks its antithesis on to it, and the quip is ready. There is crime, there is no crime; there is no truth, there are no righteous men;13 atheism, Darwinism, the bells of Moscow…

stupidity, like the loftiest of geniuses, is equally useful to the destiny of mankind…’

I declare that Shakespeare and Raphael are of higher value than the emancipation of the peasants, of higher value than the national principle, of higher value than socialism,17 of higher value than the younger generation, of higher value than chemistry, of higher value than almost all mankind, for they are already the fruit, the real fruit of mankind, and perhaps the most precious fruit there can possibly be! The ultimate form of beauty has already been achieved, and without that achievement I would perhaps not agree to go on living…

it is only without beauty that we cannot continue, for there will be nothing at all to do in the world!

I don’t wish you much happiness — it will get boring; I don’t wish you misfortune either; but in keeping with the philosophy of the simple folk, I will simply repeat: “Live more”, and try somehow not to be too bored;

Oh, they were certainly not afraid to smash their own heads and were even prepared to do so, but solely and purely for the common cause.

For their part, each of the active groups, by proselytizing and branching out ad infinitum, has the task, through systematic denunciatory propaganda of constantly undermining the authority of the local authorities, creating confusion in the villages, fostering cynicism, scandals and an utter lack of belief in anything at all, a burning desire for something better, and finally, using fires as a measure that appeals primarily to the common people, to throw the country, at a designated moment, if necessary, even into a state of despair.

This shallow, mindless nature, which constantly thirsted to subordinate itself to another person’s will, had a need to see orders through — oh, for no other reason, of course, than for the sake of a ‘common’ or ‘great’ cause. But even this didn’t matter, because petty fanatics like Erkel are utterly incapable of understanding service to an idea other than by conflating it with the very individual who, as they understand it, gives expression to this idea.

‘There were two, and suddenly there’s a third person, a new spirit, whole and finished as human hands couldn’t make him, a new thought and a new love — it’s even terrifying… And there’s nothing higher in the world!’

Each of you is accountable to a higher authority. You are called upon to renew a cause that has become decrepit and has begun to reek of stagnation. Always keep that before your eyes to encourage yourselves. Your every step now should be taken in order to bring about the collapse of everything, both the state and its moral code. Only we shall remain, we who have destined ourselves to take power; we shall join the intelligent ones to ourselves and ride roughshod over the fools. You must not be embarrassed by this. We must re-educate a generation in order to make it worthy of freedom. There are still many thousands of Shatovs in our future. We shall organize ourselves in order to seize control of the direction in which things are moving. It’s a shame not to grab hold of what is lying idle and staring open-mouthed at us.

‘If God exists, then all will is his, and I can’t escape his will. If he does not exist, then all will is mine, and I am obliged to proclaim self-will.’

I don’t understand how an atheist could reach this point knowing that God does not exist and not kill himself immediately. To realize that God does not exist, and not to realize at the same time that you yourself have become God is absurd. Otherwise you’d certainly kill yourself. If you realize it, you are a tsar and you will no longer kill yourself, but will live in the greatest glory. But one man, the one who is first, must kill himself without fail; otherwise who will begin and prove it? I will kill myself without fail in order to begin and prove it. Now I am still only God against my will, and I’m unhappy, because I’m obliged to proclaim self-will. All are unhappy because all are afraid to proclaim self-will. Man until now has been so unhappy and impoverished, because he has been afraid to proclaim the most important aspect of self-will and has shown his self-will in marginal ways, like a schoolboy. I’m dreadfully unhappy because I’m dreadfully afraid. Fear is the curse of man… But I am proclaiming self-will, and I am obliged to believe that I don’t believe. I’ll begin and end and thus open the door. And I’ll bring salvation. That is the only thing that will save all people and will cause them to be reborn in the next generation; for in his present physical form, as far as I have been thinking about it, it’s impossible for man to be without his former God altogether. I have been looking for the attribute of my godhood for three years, and I have found it: the attribute...

‘ “Now a large herd of swine was feeding there on the hillside; and they begged him to let them enter these. So he gave them leave. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the swine, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned. When the herdsmen saw what had happened, they fled, and told it in the city and in the country. Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus, and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. And those who had seen it told them how he who had been possessed with demons was healed.” ’

‘Just the constant thought that something exists that is immeasurably more just and happier than I am already fills my entire being with immeasurable tenderness and — glory — oh, whoever I may be, whatever I might have done! It is much more necessary for man to know his own happiness and to believe, every moment, that perfect and serene happiness exists somewhere, for all people and for everything… The entire law of human existence consists merely in the fact that man has always been able to bow down before something immeasurably great. If people are deprived of what is immeasurably great, they will cease to live and will die in despair. The immeasurable and infinite are just as necessary to man as is this small planet on which he lives…

But what to apply this strength to — that’s something I’ve never seen, I don’t see it even now, despite your encouraging words in Switzerland, which I believed. I am still, as I have always been, capable of wanting to do a good deed and I take pleasure in this; at the same time I want evil as well, and I also feel pleasure. But both feelings are too shallow, as always before, and they are never enough. My desires are too weak; they can’t guide me. You can cross a river on a log, but not on a chip of wood.

‘Demons undoubtedly exist, but the understanding of them can vary greatly.’

‘On the contrary, complete atheism is more respectable than secular indifference,’ Tikhon rejoined merrily and ingenuously. ‘Oho, so that’s what you think.’ ‘The complete atheist stands on the next-to-last highest rung leading to the fullest and most complete faith (he may take that step, or he may not), but the indifferent man has no faith at all, except an ugly fear.’

Every situation in my life in which I have ever happened to find myself, however unspeakably shameful, utterly degrading, vile and, most importantly, ridiculous, has always aroused both boundless anger and unbelievable pleasure in me. Precisely the same has also been true in moments when I was committing a crime, and in moments when my life was in danger. If I was stealing something, then while I was perpetrating the theft, my awareness of the depths of my vileness would send me into ecstasy. It was not vileness that I loved (here my reason remained fully intact), but rather, the ecstasy I derived from the tormenting awareness of having fallen so low that was so gratifying.

Here was a small corner of the Greek archipelago; sky-blue, caressing waves, islands and rocks, a flowering strip of coastline, a magical panorama in the distance, an inviting sunset — you can’t describe it in words. This is what the peoples of Europe remembered as their cradle; here unfolded the first scenes of mythology, here was their earthly paradise. Here lived beautiful people! They got up and went to sleep happy and innocent; the groves were filled with their joyous songs, their great excess of untapped energies went into love and artless joy. The sun bathed these islands and the sea in its rays, rejoicing in its beautiful children. A wondrous dream, a sublime illusion! A vision, more incredible than any that has ever existed, for which mankind throughout its whole existence has given all its energies, for which it has sacrificed everything, for which men have died on crosses and prophets have been killed, without which nations do not want to live and cannot even die.

‘Easier,’ Stavrogin answered in a low voice, dropping his eyes. ‘If you were to forgive me, I would find it much easier,’ he added unexpectedly and in a half-whisper. ‘Provided you also forgave me,’ Tikhon uttered in a voice full of emotion. ‘For what? What have you done to me? Ah yes, this is some monastic formula.’ ‘For my voluntary and involuntary sins.12 In sinning, each person has already sinned against all, and each person is in some way guilty for another person’s sin. There is no isolated sin. I am truly a great sinner, and perhaps greater than you.’

‘And so, what you find ridiculous is just in the form, in the style?’ ‘And in the substance. The ugliness will kill it,’ Tikhon whispered, lowering his eyes. ‘What’s that? Ugliness? Where’s the ugliness?’ ‘Of the crime. There are crimes that are truly ugly. In crimes, of whatever kind, the more blood and horror there is, the more appealing they are, or, so to speak, picturesque. But there are shameful crimes, disgraceful ones that transcend any horror, so to speak, even too inelegant, actually…’

‘I bring you joyful news about this,’ Tikhon said with emotion, ‘even Christ will forgive you if only you can reach the point of forgiving yourself… Oh, no, no, don’t believe me, I have uttered blasphemy. Even if you don’t achieve reconciliation with yourself and forgiveness of yourself, even then he will forgive you for your intention and for your great suffering… for there are neither words nor thought in human language to express all the ways and means of the Lamb, “until his ways are made manifest14 to us”. Who can embrace him, the unembraceable, who can understand all of him, the infinite!’

‘You are struggling with a desire for martyrdom and self-sacrifice. Subdue this desire of yours as well, lay aside these pages, and your intention — and then you will succeed in overcoming everything. You will put all your pride to shame, and your demon! You will end as a conqueror, you will attain freedom…’