By
Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Alexander Dugin: New Right
Integral Traditionalism and Russian Anti-Globalism
As we initially have seen, it was
during Perestroika that Russian Traditionalists first took active steps. In
1987 Dugin and Heidar Jamal together joined Pamyat'
(Memory), later described by Dugin as "the most reactionary organization
available." They hoped to influence it toward Traditionalism, rather as
Eliade had hoped to use the Legion of the Archangel Michael in Romania, and
Evola had hoped to use the Fascists, the Herrenclub,
and the SS.
Seminars they gave attracted respectable audiences (up to 100 people),
and Dugin was appointed to Pamyat’s Central Council
in late 1988, but in 1989 they gave up and left. Pamyat';
Dugin later described its members as "hysterics and KGB
collaborators."
After they had left Pamyat, where Jamal
continued in the line of Islamist Traditionalism, Dugin in a parallel course of
action became involved with Eurasianism. In 1999 was
appointed a special advisor to Gennady Nikolayevich Seleznev, the CPRF speaker
of the Duma. (On this see also the recently published "Against the Modern
World" released on 13 July 2009).
The collapse of the Soviet Union, in fact, triggered a resurgence of
Eurasianist activity in the 1990’s. But unlike Western realizes who emphasize
the State as principal international actors, the Eurasianists support the idea
of empires as principal actors.
Thus Dugin, for example, helped found the not entirely serious National
Bolshevik Party and became increasingly associated with two major figures in
Russian political life. One was Gennady Zyuganov, the leader of the Communist
Party of the Russian Federation (CPRF). The other, closer associate was
Alexander Andreyevich Prokhanov,
leader of a group known as the Pochvenniki
(Patriots).
Originally formulated as a counter to Communism, Eurasianism
posits a Russian national identity based not on politics but on geography and
ethnicity, and it portends a stark and troubling future reality for Eastern
Europe. Alexander Dugin’s Eurasianism, in turn, is
best understood as an offshoot of the European Far Right, and not a product of
Russia’s distinctive cultural heritage.
Following the menion of Alexander Dugin by
various newsmedia last week including
Newsweek, other press releases spoke of "Russian
nationalist advocates Eurasian alliance against the U.S. "
and "Is Alexander Dugin really the new
sage of the Kremlin?"
This while a recent book in German, placed Dugin within a network of
former Warsaw Pact "crypto-fascist" intelligence officers, themselves
networked with colleagues in NATO intelligence services who included former
Nazis adopted by the victorious Western allies after the end of the Second
World War. Read the English abstract.
In fact during the past years, Russia's ideological climate has
gravitated more and more towards right-wing conservative values colored by Russian
nationalism.
Roughly half of Russians today, want some sort of reunification of the
territories of the former Soviet Union and believe that Russia's true borders
lie outside of Russia's present borders including Ukraine, Belarus and
Kazakhstan.
The three dominant geopolitical visions of contemporary Russia can be
classified as 1) Westernizing 2) Moderate Eurasianist 3) Extreme Eurasianist. The Westernizing vision does not see Russia as an
expansionist state or one with some sphere of exclusive influence. The two
Eurasian visions can be termed 'Slavic' and 'Soviet.'
While they hardly lost their talent for confrontation the Russians, as
can be seen recently, attempt to push back against what Russia already early on
perceived as “the West” replaced now, with the rise of American
influence in their region.
The Russian population meanwhile is divided into two groups, one that
sees the territorial integrity of at least part of the former Soviet Union as a
goal for the Russian state. And a smaller second group, that does not see
the need to reconstitute the past and shuns the idea of a greater Russia.
The first is a traditional, Eurasianist vision where Russia is the
center of a different realm than that of the West--a realm in which the West
should leave to Russia. Yet there is little indication that there exists a
distinction between Moderate and Extreme Eurasianist visions.
They are undertaking a noisy galvanization of a reactionary utopia that
failed long ago, an attempt to revive it through the injection of a new
vaccine-a combination of "Orthodoxy" and "Islam" in the
name of combating insidious "Zionism," putrid Western
"Catholicism" and any kind of Jew-Masonry whatever ... For all their
[intellectual] ineptitude, they are very dangerous. After all, the temptation
of religious fundamentalism in our century of unbelief and general spiritual
corruption is attractive to many desperate people who have lost their way in
this chaos. (Vinogradov, in Yelena Yakovich, "Kontinent
in Moscow: Voice of Russian Culture" (interview with Igor Vinogradov), Literaturnaya Gazeta, July 22, 1992, p. 5)
In any case, the Eurasianist groups are identifiable by feelings of
fraternity with the former Republics of the Soviet Union and by a desire to
have some sort of territorial reunification. This vision seems to be associated
with respondents who are older, male, attend Church frequently and vote
Communist. Older Russians identify with the Soviet times as a period of peace
and stability while male's mourn the loss of Soviet territory. Religious
Russians tend to favor a Eurasianist vision in terms of a Christian realm. The
vision of religious Russians may also be colored by the mythology surrounding
Orthodoxy and the West. To many followers of Russian Orthodoxy, the West long
ago turned its back on things spiritual in favor of consumption and
competition. The Christian
territory of the former Soviet Union represents a spiritual and morally superior
realm. What we do not see here is an obvious Nativist or Moderate Eurasianist
vision. The absence of any clear division between Moderate and Extreme Eurasianism here suggests that these visions may not have
clear correlates with socio-demographic status.
The Westernizing vision is identifiable by the rejection of
notions of a larger Russia or a Russia who interferes in the affairs of her
neighbors. This vision is associated with younger respondents, respondents who
are more affluent, more educated, live in one of the capital cities and
identify themselves as ethnically Russian. The young, the affluent and the
educated number among the 'optimists' of Russia. These are people who can
adjust and compete in post-Soviet Russia. Perhaps Russians are moving away from
old identities. Russian identity was previously defused by its authority
(Tsar or Soviet) then Russians are for the first time free of an identity
locked to the existence of a vast multi-national Eurasian state. This new
existence both in terms of territory and in terms of position in the world.
The Slavic vision seeks reconciliation between the divorced
Russo-Slavic states of Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. This desire comes from
ethnic/cultural linguistic similarities but that these similarities cannot be
divorced from a common political and economic context of centuries of
integration. This view is a moderate form of Eurasianism
in that it does not seek to reincorporate all of the former Soviet Union, but
recognizes the special relation of the three states and their special position
in the Eurasian landmass that has shaped their histories, cultures and
political relations with the rest of the world. This form of Eurasianism is closest to Nativism.
The Nativist character of this vision is strengthened by the high score
of religiosity in the question of protecting Russians abroad. If the Nativist
sub-set of Moderate Eurasianism is driving this
geopolitical view of a Russia-Ukraine-Belarus union. The Nativist
interpretation of the Russian nation is a primordialist
one in which Ukrainians, Belarussians and Russians all have the same roots. For
others, the Slavic visionary not necessarily be about a broader ethnic
nationalism but rather a feeling that Russian high culture is the unifying
characteristic. This would be more in line with a non-Nativist Eurasianism that sees all peoples of Eurasia as members of
the same greater civilization.
The Soviet vision is territorially similar to Extreme Eurasianism. The vision sees all states of the former
Soviet Union as part of the Russian realm. This vision rests not solely on
cultural characteristics, but on an idea of the Russian state in which it is a
great power encompassing a vast empire of Slavic and non-Slavic peoples in
Eurasia. Though this vision views ethnic Russians as holding a privileged
position within society and sees Russian language and culture as
characteristics to be passed on to non-Russian groups, the real lynchpin of the
vision is the central authority of the state.
Both the Eurasianist visions are expansionist. The Westernizing vision
is not. It is interesting then, that those most opposed to. expansion and
intervention abroad are not those typically associated with a Westernizing
vision of Russia. Rather we see a peripheralized group that is the least
enthusiastic about expansion. Those with lower levels of education, older
Russians, poorer respondents, non-voters or those who would vote against all
and women occupy the lower level of the scale on most of the questions.
The Eurasianist geopolitical view is supported by men, by Communist and
LDPR supporters, and by the religious. In general it is opposed by Muscovites
and Petersburgians and perhaps by older
Russians. And the Eurasianist position may be divided between those who
seek total reunification of the Soviet Union and those who only seek a Slavic
reunification (Ukraine, Belarus, and possibly Kazakhstan). Furthermore, there
may be a divide on foreign policy on the pro-western side between those who
wish to fully side with the West on both economic and political/military
matters and those who wish economic integration with the West, but while
simultaneously pursuing a multipolar world.
The Baltics are seen a gateway region for the young; examples of the
path from socialism to Western capitalism and democracy. Younger people feel
that they can adapt more to the new ways of life than do older people.
There is a group youth in Russia have very negative feelings towards socialism
and that have very positive attitudes towards capitalism. In a survey during
2001 one out of four young people e planed to set up
their own business in the future. Young people tend to be more apolitical or,
at least, less interested in politics than the population at large. This would
put them into a Westernizing geopolitical vision by default.
In general Russians with higher incomes do not care that much about those
outside of Russia in the former Soviet Union. Perhaps the more affluent feel
that Russia is headed in the right direction and no longer yearn for a past
where Eurasia was a united whole under the Tsars and Soviets. class division
may create two distinct mental geographies of Russia and its near abroad. It is
interesting though that this distinction seems clear in the "Culturally
Close collection of models as the question has nothing to do with affluence. it
may be that feelings of cultural closeness are a surrogate for feelings of fond
remembrance for at least some aspects of the Soviet Union. One survey of 2001
has classified Russians into "optimists" and ''pessimists.'' Affluent
optimists who no longer feel a cultural fraternity to the former Soviet Union
and "pessimists" who do.
Those classified as frequently attending religious services are
overwhelmingly Russian. The Russian Empire historically was seen as the
protector of Orthodoxy and perhaps those that frequent Orthodox services simply
feel more deeply that the territory of Russia is the territory of Tsarist and
Soviet times. This belief is reflected in. the significance of RF across models
for the states of both the Caucasus and Central Asia. It could also be that
those who turn to religion are the "pessimists" who do not feel
comfortable in the new world and with the collapse of Communism need some
greater meaning in their lives. Thus the geopolitical visions of ordinary
Russians can be predicted by certain socio-economic and demographic indicators.
A Westernizing vision is held by those who can be classified as 'optimists.'
The Westernizers accept the present-day borders of Russia and do not feel that
Russia must exercise any sort of suzerainty over the former Soviet Union or
Eastern Europe. This group is young, urban, educated and affluent. The
countries of the former Soviet Union have little emotional or practical purloin
to this group.
Russian men tend to support Nationalist parties and ideologies more so
than women. There is no such obvious hypothesis for male as a positive
indicator in Armenia and Georgia however. The increased likelihood of
feelings of cultural closeness of men for these regions may be related to
conflict in the Caucasus. With mandatory military service and a war going on in
Muslim Chechnya, the non-Muslim states of Armenia and Georgia-situated as
islands in a Muslim sea around them may gain special significance. Historically,
Russia has seen herself as the protector of Christianity in this region, a fact
that may not be lost on those(men) who may have to actually do the protecting.
It may be easy to impose a dualistic script on the Caucasus where
regions are either Muslim (not like us) or Christian (like us). Men view the
United State's 'war on terrorism more favorably than
do women. This may be indicative of a dualistic vision of friend and foe but
such an assertion is speculative at best. The connection between gender,
attitudes towards Muslims and its impact on perceptions of regions is something
that is worth investigating in the future.
In the hierarchy of world cities, Moscow acts as the hub of the former
Soviet Union. Linkages of trade, finance, politics and culture flow through
Moscow, and to a lesser extent St. Petersburg are more linked to other places
in the former Soviet Union than are other places in Russia. With people from
the Ukraine and Belarus more likely to travel to Moscow than other parts of
Russia. These linkages are strengthened by history. Unlike other former
republics, Ukraine and Belarus were never truly "outside" areas
conquered by a foreign Russian state. Rather, they were always part of the
Russian realm. As recently seen with the elections in the Ukraine, these
linkages perhaps have created an emotive geography. While with far off places
like Tadjikistan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and
Moldova, the primary flows may be to Moscow, these flows of trade, culture, and
politics are small from Moscow's accounting. Residents of Moscow and St.
Petersburg simply may never encounter these flows and feel as if these are
distant regions with little in common with life in Moscow or St. Petersburg.
Kazakhstan and Kirgizia are sometimes confused with one another by some of the
young Russians. Kazakhstan and Kirgizia are not in this group, however.
Additionally, Moldavia appears to be a case onto itself, and simply does not
register as important on many Russian’s mental map.
What is noteworthy about the Baltic states is that they continue to
stand out as a group. They appear to be thought well of by the young-those who
are less likely to think in terms of Soviet territoriality. In terms of
regional groupings it is clear that the Baltic countries remain a distinct
group that is associated with those thought to be more Westernizing and that
the Caucasus and Central Asian countries seem to be favored by those with a
more imperial geo-vision.
Within the borders of the former Soviet Union. The religious believe.
that Russia's borders extend into the FSU and should try to reach them. There
is no indication however, that Eastem Europe is a
concern for the religious which suggests that this group has a vision that is
contained to the former Soviet Union. Communists seem to believe that Russia
should have a military option of protecting Russians abroad, that Russia's
borders extend into the former Soviet Union, that Russia should have. influence
in Eastem Europe and the former Soviet Union, and
that Putin has handled the lraq situation poorly.
This is clearly not a vision of Westernizing Nationalism. Rather, Communist
Party supporters seem to share a Eurasianist view.
Also, the residents of Moscow or St. Petersburg are less likely to
approve of the use of the Russian military to protect Russians abroad.
Residents of the capital cities are more cosmopolitan and liberal than those in
the regions and therefore this result is expected. Muscovites and Petersburgians are more likely to support Russia trying to
actively reach her true borders. However, this conclusion does not seem to go
well with the standard view of Moscow and St. Petersburg as relatively
cosmopolitan and liberal places. Older Russians identify with the Soviet times
as a period of peace and stability while male's morn
the loss of Soviet territory. Religious Russians tend to favor a Eurasianist
vision in terms of a Christian rea1m. The vision of religious Russians mayaIso be colored by the mythology surrounding Orthodoxy
and the West. To many followers of Russian Orthodoxy, the West long ago turned
its back on. things spiritual in favor of consumption and competition.
The Christian territory of the former Soviet Union represents a
spiritual and morally superior realm. What we do not see here is an obvious
Nativist or Moderate Eurasianist vision. This is surprising given that in
Chapters terms of territory, these visions seem to exist in the population. The
absence of any clear division between Moderate and Extreme Eurasianism
suggests that these visions may not have clear correlates with
socio-demographic status.
A Westernizing vision is also present. It is identifiable by the
rejection of notions of a larger Russia or a Russia who interferes in the
affairs of her neighbors. This vision is associated with younger Russians who
are more affluent, more educated, live in one of the capital cities and
identify themselves as ethnically Russian. The young, the affluent and the
educated number among the 'optimists' of Russia. These are people who can
adjust and compete in post-Soviet Russia. Russian ethnicity seems to favor
the Westernizing vision, or at least rejects more the Eurasianist vision of the
past. Maybe Russian identity was previously defined by its authority
(Tsar or Soviet) and now Russians are for the first time free of an identity
locked to the existence of a vast multi-national Eurasian state. This new
existence both in terms of territory and in terms of position in the world
system may be allowing Russia to go through a "Renewal Nationalism"
where Russians identify themselves separately and distinctly from the
other large ethnic groups of the Soviet Union or Russian Empire.
Thus since the mid-1990' s feelings of xenophobia have risen in Russia.
The states of the former Soviet Union may now be "the Other" for most
Russians rather than compatriots in a larger Eurasian realm. A simpler analysis
however would be that and though Russia is still arguably a "vast
multi-national Eurasian state," ethnic Russians now make up an
overwhelming majority of the citizens of Russia. Russians still derive their
identity from the state and its authority. Now that the state is smaller
Russians may have simply recalibrated their identities to that smaller state.
However it is clear that the arena of competition between geopolitical
ideologies, scripts and traditions exists not only in the halls of government
and institutions of foreign policy; not only in the editorial pages of
newspapers or the images on the nightly news; but exists within the minds of
the public. In democracies, foreign policy must meet public approval. The
division in the Russian public between Westernisers
and Eurasianists however is likely to influence foreign policy in Russia for
years to come. The nature of geopolitical visions in Russia is both practical
and emotional/psychological. The majority of Russians today desire a
reconstitution of the Soviet Union; every country of the former Soviet Union is
favored for reunification by over half of the survey respondents. However, the
'practical geopolitics' of Russians reveal important schisms in society.
When queried about specific costs (such as the use of military force)
the emotive dreams give way to practical reality. For Russian elites (or
Western propagandists) geopolitical scripts that rely on emotive responses to
gain the support of Russians for foreign policy actions may prove to be
inadequate.
Moreover, those with the least problems domestically (the affluent,
urban, young and well educated-who can perhaps afford to care about foreign
policy at the expense of domestic policy-are the ones least likely to support
territorial aspirations in the near abroad. Geopolitics for regular people may
be a 'vanity issue' in that territorial and foreign policy goals are only
important when no major economic issues exist at the scale of the household.
This link between the economic reality of the household (or perhaps locality)
and how people react to geopolitical scripts and form their own geopolitical
visions has gone unexplored.
It is hard to imagine that the geopolitical culture of a state could
remain static as it moved from a position of lesser to a position of greater
prosperity. As a state's position in the world-system changes, so does the
position of individual households and localities. We know for instance,
that Russians do not feel great pride in Russia relative to levels of pride in
country found in Europe or the United States.
The collective interpretations by Russians of Russia's place in the
world system are likely to shape the geopolitical consciousness of Russia as it
continues to move through the market transition and find its place in the world
economy. Turning back now to Eurasianism; it is
important to note that this paradigm does not represent one single view. It was
theorized here that two types of Eurasianism would be
identifiable; Moderate Eurasianism and Extreme Eurasianism (to which also the Alexandr Dugin faction belongs
mentioned in the footnote). Two differing, broad Eurasianist visions were found
in terms of territorial preference. There is certainly a greater value placed
on Ukraine and Belarus (Moderate Eurasianism) than on
the rest of the former Soviet Union (Extreme Eurasianism).
By some measures (economic and political ties) Kazakhstan would be part of this
group.
Ukraine, Belarus and to a lesser extent Northern Kazakhstan have a long
and special geographical, cultural and historical role in Russian history. They
form the core economic and population core of what once was the Russian Empire
and Soviet Union. It is therefore unclear whether or not the basis of this
'Slavic' vision is cultural, economic or historical. Likely it is all three of
these few Russians would consider Ukraine or Belarus important on only one of
these levels. The fact that a group attached to this particular vision could
not be. delineated raises some important ideas and questions.
Firstly, is the value placed on Ukraine and Belarus may be near
universal in Russia? If so, Ukraine and Belarus would rise to the top of
preference measures (cultural closeness, reunification, political and economic
ties) and stand out as a group but makes it impossible to isolate a portion of
the population that a 'Slavic' vision can be identified with.
A second possibility for why a particular group could not be attached
to the 'Slavic' vision is that there was insufficient data. We know, for
instance, that southern Russia is more conservative and traditional relative to
a more radical north. It would be interesting to probe the regional differences
as they relate to geopolitical visions. The possibility of a Nativist vision
might be regionally concentrated in the southern oblasts in Russia. This is due
to the central idea of 'sobomost' in Eurasianism. This is the idea that Russians have always
been a communal people dating to an agricultural past centered on village life.
It evokes spiritual. mid ethical feelings of the community as the most
important element of society (as opposed to the individual).
The Nativist view of the Russian nation is primordialist.
A primordialist understanding of national identity
involves connecting people to territory in an organic sense. The nation has
always existed on the land and is part of its natural lands within the horders of the former Soviet Union. The religious believe
that Russia's borders extend into the Former Soviet Union and should try
to reach them. There is no indication however, that Eastem
Europe is a concern for the religious which suggests that this group has avision that is contained to the former Soviet Union.
Communists seem to believe that Russia should brave a military option of
protecting Russians abroad, that Russia's borders extend into the former Soviet
Union, that Russia should have. influence in Eastern Europe and the former
Soviet Union, and that Putin has handled the lraq
situation poorly. Communist Party supporters seem to share a Eurasianist view
that sees a Russian realm that extends not only into the former Soviet Union,
but into Eastern Europe.
As for Alexander Dugin he simultaneously is on
the fringe and at the center, of the current Russian nationalist phenomenon.
Dugin has published over a dozen books, and edited several journals: Elementy (9 issues between 1992 and 1998), Milyi Angel (4 issues between 1991 and 1999), Evraziiskoe vtorzhenie (published
as an irregular supplement to the weekly Zavtra, with
six special issues in 2000), and Evraziiskoe obozrenie (11 issues from 2001 to 2004).1 In 1997, he wrote
and presented a weekly one hour radio broadcast, Finis Mundi, which was
prohibited after he commented favorably on the early 20th-century terrorist
Boris Savinkov.2
Since 2005, he has been appearing on the new Orthodox TV channel Spas
created by Ivan Demidov, where he anchors a weekly broadcast on geopolitics
called Landmarks [Vekhi].3 He also regularly takes
part in round table discussions on Russian television and occupies a major
place in the Russian nationalist Web.4
As indicated by us in an earlier context, several intellectual tendencies manifest themselves
in his thought: a political theory inspired by Traditionalism, 5 Orthodox
religious philosophy,6 Aryanist and occultist theories,7 and geopolitical and
Eurasianist conceptions.8
One might expect this ideological diversity to reflect a lengthy
evolution in Dugin’s intellectual life. Quite to the contrary, however, all
these topics did not emerge in succession but have co-existed in Dugin’s
writings since the beginning of the 1990s. But where at first Dugin was
supported by the nationalist thinker Aleksandr Prokhanov,
who thought that only Eurasianism could unify the
patriots, who were still divided into “Whites” and “Reds,” Prokhanov quickly turned away and condemned Eurasianism for being too Turko-centric.
From 1993–4, then Dugin moved away from the Communist spectrum and
became the ideologist for the new National Bolshevik Party (NBP). Born of a
convergence between the old Soviet counter-culture and patriotic groups, the
NBP successfully established its ideology among the young. Dugin’s Arctogaia then served as a think tank for the political
activities of the NBP’s leader, Eduard Limonov. The two men shared a desire to
develop close ties with the counter-cultural sphere, in particular with
nationalistically minded rock and punk musicians, such as Yegor Letov, Sergei Troitskii, Roman Neumoev or
Sergei Kurekhin.9 In 1995, Dugin even ran in the Duma elections under the
banner of the NBP in a suburban constituency near Saint-Petersburg, but
received less than 1 percent of the vote.10
However, this electoral failure did not harm him, as he was
simultaneously busy writing numerous philosophical and esoteric works to
develop what he considered to be the Neo-Eurasianist “orthodoxy.” Limonov would
thereafter describe Dugin as “the ‘Cyril and Methodius’ of fascism, since he
brought Faith and knowledge about it to our country from the West.”11
Dugin left the National Bolshevik Party in 1998 following numerous
disagreements with Limonov, seeking instead to enter more influential
structures. He hoped to become a “counsel to the prince” and presented himself
as a oneman think tank for the authorities. He
succeeded in establishing himself as an advisor to the Duma’s spokesman,
the Communist Gennady Seleznev, and, in 1999, he became chairman of the
geopolitical section of the Duma’s Advisory Council on National Security,
dominated by the ultra-nationalist Liberal Democratic Party of Russia, led by
Vladimir Zhirinovskii. At the time, Dugin appeared to
exert a certain influence on Zhirinovskii, as well as
on Aleksandr Rutskoi of the Social Democratic Party
and Gennady Ziuganov of the Communist Party12.
The latter, for example, borrowed from Dugin the idea that Russian
nationalism does not conflict with the expression of minority national
sentiments. Indeed, Ziuganov presented the CPRF as
the main defender of Tatar nationalism and Kalmyk Buddhism. His book Russia
after the Year 2000: A Geopolitical Vision for a New State was directly
inspired by Dugin’s ideas on the distinctiveness of Russian geopolitical
“science” and his idea that Russia’s renewal provides the only guarantee of
world stability. Dugin also regularly publishes on Russian official web sites,
such as www.strana.ru, where he expresses his ideas on the opposition between
the re-emerging Eurasian empire and the Atlanticist model.
Dugin’s entry into parliamentary structures was largely made possible
by the publication (in 1997) of the first version of his most influential work,
The Foundations of Geopolitics: Russia’s Geopolitical Future.13 It is
considered to be a major study of geopolitics, and is often presented as
the founding work of the contemporary Russian school of geopolitics. By 2000,
the work had already been re-issued four times, and had become a major
political pamphlet, enjoying a large readership in academic and political
circles. Indeed, Dugin has always hoped to influence promising young
intellectuals as well as important political and military circles. He has
stated that his Center for Geopolitical Expertise could quickly become an
“analytical instrument helping to develop the national idea”14 for the
executive and legislative powers.
Since the beginning of the 1990s, he has been especially keen on
getting in touch with acting military officers: coming from a military family,
he regularly asserts that only the army and the secret services have a real
sense of patriotism.
Thus, in 1992, the first issue of Elementy
carried texts by three generals who were then heads of department at the
Academy of the General Staff.15 In addition, The Foundations of Geopolitics
seems to have been written with the support of General Igor’ Rodionov, who was
minister of defense in 1996–7.16 Thanks to this book, Dugin has been invited to
teach at the Academy of the General Staff as well as at the Institute for
Strategic Research in Moscow. He offered them a certain vision of international
politics colored by an “isolationism that only serves to disguise a project of
expansion and conquest.”17 Following this best-seller, Dugin considerably
expanded his presence in the main Russian media; to some, he became a
respectable personality of public life. The success of his geopolitics book,
now used as a textbook by numerous institutions of higher education, as well as
his lectures at the Academy of the General Staff and at the so-called New
University, satisfies his desire to reach the political and intellectual
elites.
Thus the years 1998–2000 saw the transformation of Dugin’s political
leanings into a specific current that employs multiple strategies of entryism,
targeting both youth counter-culture and parliamentary structures. Dugin moved
away from opposition parties such as the CPRF and the LDPR and closer to
centrist groups, lending his support to the then prime minister, Yevgeny
Primakov. In 2000, he briefly participated in the Rossiia
movement led by the Communist Gennady Seleznev and wrote its manifesto, before
leaving due to disagreements with its leadership. Putin’s election as president
in March 2000 caused an even stronger shift in Dugin’s political attitudes, as
he began to move closer to country’s new strong man.
On 21 April 2001 he resolved to put his cards on the table and created
a movement named Evraziia, of which he was elected
president. During its founding convention, Evraziia,
often described as a brainchild of presidential counsel Gleb Pavlovsky, who is
close to Dugin, officially rallied to Putin and proposed to participate in the
next elections as part of a governmental coalition. The movement’s goal,
according to Dugin’s declarations, is to formulate the “national idea” that
Russia needs: “our goal is not to achieve power, nor to fight for power, but to
fight for influence on it.
Those are different things.”18 On 30 May 2002, Evraziia
was transformed into a political party that Dugin defines as “radically
centrist,” an ambiguous formulation that springs from his Traditionalist
attitude. Dugin accepts the combination of “patriotism and liberalism” which he
says Vladimir Putin is proposing, on the condition that the liberal element
remains subservient to state interests and to the imperatives of national
security. As he affirms, “our patriotism is not only emotional but also
scientific, based on geopolitics and its methods,”19 a classic claim of
Neo-Eurasianists.
According to its own data, the new party has 59 regional branches and
more than 10,000 members. Its creation was publicly welcomed by Aleksandr
Voloshin, then the head of the presidential administration, and Aleksandr Kosopkin, chief of the administration’s Internal Affairs
Department. Dugin also enlisted the support of another influential figure close
to the president, Mikhail Leont’ev, the presenter of Odnako (broadcast by Pervyi kanal, the first channel of Russian state TV), who joined
the party’s Central Committee. Strengthened by his success after these public
displays of recognition, Dugin hoped to acquire influence within a promising
new electoral formation, the Rodina bloc, and use it as a platform for a
candidacy in the parliamentary elections in December 2003. This alliance,
however, was tactically short-lived, and questionable in its ideological
import. Thus, Dugin never concealed his disdain for the monarchist nostalgia
and the politicized orthodoxy embodied by Rodina leaders such as Dmitrii Rogozin
and Natalia Narochnitskaia. Indeed, it seems that
Sergei Glaz’ev20 was the one who was responsible for the rapprochement with
Dugin. Although Glaz’ev cannot be considered a
Neo-Eurasianist, he did participate in the founding convention of Evraziia in 2002. The two men share an interest in economic
policies leaning toward socialism, and Dugin acknowledged his sympathy for Glaz’ev’s economic ideas (which he calls “healthy”) even
after the latter left Rodina in March 2004.
Dugin and Glaz’ev met as early as February
2003 in order to constitute a party they defined as “left-patriotic.” In July, Evraziia declared itself ready to support the creation of
this electoral bloc. However, internal arguments over personalities ensued: the
bloc needed to choose three leaders who would be sure to become deputies if it
passed, and would benefit most from the campaign’s publicity. Dugin hoped to be
chosen, but was hampered by his political marginality linked to his reputation
as an extravagant theoretician whose ideas are too complex to inform an
electoral strategy.21 At the end of September, the disappointed Dugin left the
Rodina bloc, explaining at a press-conference that Rodina’s nationalism was too
radical for him, a statement that must draw a smile from those familiar with
his work. This nationalist setting had not disturbed him until then. Nor did he
move closer to Rodina when certain overly virulent nationalists such as V. I.
Davidenko, leader of the small Spas party, were expelled from Rodina’s list of
candidates under pressure from the Kremlin.
Dugin’s accusations against Rodina fall into two categories. He
condemns the bloc for being too close to the CPRF and its oligarchy, and
criticizes its “irresponsible populism.” He also takes to task those he calls
“right-wing chauvinists”: Sergei Baburin and the Spas movement.22 By contrast,
Dugin insists on the conciliatory and multinational mission of his Evraziia party, which “represents not only the interests of
the Russians, but also those of the small peoples and the traditional
confessions.”23 Dugin has also accused some Rodina members of racism and anti-
Semitism, stressing that the party includes former members of Russian National
Unity24 as well as Andrei Savel’ev, who translated
Mein Kampf intoRussian. The first set of criticisms
is justified by Dugin’s own convictions: he has never hidden his disdain for
the present Communist Party, does not appreciate the emotional attitude of the
Orthodox in matters of international politics, rejects all Tsarist nostalgia,
has always denounced the racialism of Barkashov’s
theories, and condemns electoral populism. The second set of criticisms seems
more opportunistic: a close reading of Dugin’s works clearly reveals his
fascination with the National Socialist experience and his ambiguous
anti-Semitism. Today, Dugin is attempting to play down these aspects of his
thought in order to present himself as a “politically correct” thinker waiting
to be recognized by the Putin regime.
In return, instances of Dugin borrowing ideologically from Rodina seem
rather rare. His Traditionalist, National Bolshevik and esoteric ideas, which
constitute an important part of his thinking, are not appreciated by Rodina and
have not exercised any influence on the bloc’s conceptions. Indeed, Rodina is
more conservative than revolutionary, and cannot take up Dugin’s provocative
suggestions, which often aim to break the social order. The strictly Neo-
Eurasianist aspect of Dugin’s ideas, his bestknown
“trademark” in Russian society today, is
in tune with some of Rodina’s geopolitical conceptions, but this concurrence is
actually founded on the anti-Westernism that is common to both, not on a shared
vision of Russia as a Eurasian power. For this reason, despite their attempted
alliance, Rodina may not be said to have adopted elements of Neo-Eurasianist
thought in the strict sense of the term.
Nevertheless, these difficult relations did not stop Dugin from being
delighted with the results of the December 2003 elections, which carried four
nationalist parties (the presidential party United Russia, the CPRF, the LDPR,
and Rodina) into the Duma. Dugin has connections with every one of them, and
some members of each of theseparties openly
acknowledge having been inspired by his theories. After this personal failure
in Rodina, Dugin reoriented his strategies away from the electoral sphere, and
toward the expert community.
Hence the transformation of his party into an “International Eurasian
Movement” (IEM), formalized on 20 November 2003. The new movement includes
members from some twenty countries, and its main support seems to comefrom Kazakhstan and Turkey. Whereas the original
organization founded in 2001 comprised mainly figures from civil society,25 the
Supreme Council of the new Eurasian Movement includes representatives of the
government and parliament: Mikhail Margelov, head of the Committee for
International Relations of the Federation Council (the Parliament’s Upper
House), Albert Chernyshev, Russia’s ambassador to India, Viktor Kalyuzhny,
vice-minister of foreign affairs, Aleksey Zhafyarov,
chief of the Department of Political Parties and Social Organizations in the
justice ministry, etc. The IEM even officially asked Vladimir Putin and
Nursultan Nazarbaev to head the movement’s Supreme
Council. Dugin congratulates himself on having moved beyond a mere political
party to an international organization. He now cultivates his image in
neighboring countries, heavily publicizing his trips to Turkey, but also to
Kazakhstan and Belarus. Dugin has become a zealous supporter of the Eurasian
Economic Union and is pleased to think that he has influenced Aleksandr
Lukashenko’s and Nursultan Nazarbaev’s decisions in
favor of a tighter integration of their countries with Russia. His web site
also presents the different Eurasianist groups in Western countries. Italy is
particularly well represented, with numerous translations of Dugin’s texts,
several Eurasianist-inspired web sites, and a journal, Eurasia. Rivista di studi geopolitici. France is
represented by the “Paris- Berlin-Moscow” association, while Britain has long
had a Eurasianist movement of its own.
Austrian, Finnish, Serbian, and Bulgarian associations, and of course
organizations in other post-Soviet republics, especially in Ukraine and
Kazakhstan, are presented as “fraternal parties”.
Having enthusiastically welcomed Vladimir Putin as a “Eurasian man,”26
Dugin now, since early 2005, appears to be deeply disappointed by the
president. According to him, Putin hesitates to adopt a definitively
Eurasianist stance, and his entourage is dominated by Atlanticist and overly
liberal figures. In current affairs, Dugin is trying to play on the wave of
anti-Westernism that swept part of the Russian political scene after the
revolutions in Georgia in 2003, in Ukraine in 2004, and in Kyrgyzstan in 2005.
He thus set up a Eurasianist Youth Union, led by Pavel Zarifullin,
which became highly visible in September 2005 with the heavily publicized
creation of an “anti-orange front.” Dugin is thus pursuing, with relative
success, his objective of building up a global cultural hegemony: he is trying
to gain a foothold in alter-globalization movements (which promote alternatives
to American-led globalization) and to participate in international ideological
regroupings. This right, which Dugin modernizes and profoundly renews in his
theories, seems therefore to succeed in its strategy of entering into left-wing
structures that are badly informed and looking for any and all allies in their
struggle against American domination.
Thus Dugin’s regular but always temporary presence in the political
field cannot, it seems, be considered a new phase of his life that would build
on an already completed body of doctrine. Although Dugin currently seems to be
concentrating on his involvement in the Eurasianist movement and publications
on the topic of Eurasianism, one should not forget
that a similar combination had been in place from 1994 to 1998, when his
membership in the National- Bolshevik Party went hand in hand with publications
on the concept of National Bolshevism.
Dugin thus seems to adjust his strategy in accordance with the
available opportunities to influence public opinion. Moreover, he continues
even today to disseminate the Traditionalist ideas that have been his mainstay
since the beginning, displaying a high degree of doctrinal consistency. What
has evolved is his public status, marked by his desire no longer to be
considered an original and marginal intellectual, but rather to be recognized
as a respectable political personality close to the ruling circles.
Russian Version of
Anti-Globalism
As we have seen Dugin in a way distorts, the idea of Eurasia by
combining it with elements borrowed from other intellectual traditions, such as
theories of conservative revolution, the German geopolitics of the 1920s and
1930s, René Guénon’s Traditionalism and the Western
New Right.
Nevertheless, Dugin has enjoyed the greatest public success of all
Neo-Eurasianists, and most directly influences certain political circles
looking for a new geopolitics for post-Soviet Russia. Dugin thus largely
outweighs small intellectual groups that pursue their own Neo-Eurasianist
reflections without having any direct access to a larger public. He can be
considered today as the principal theoretician of Neo-Eurasianism,
even though he shared this role with Aleksandr Panarin in the 1990s. At first,
the two men had been rather opposed to each other, and Panarin had refused to
be assimilated into the same ideological current. He described Dugin’s
geopolitics as pagan for viewing man as dependent on nature and led by a blind
and determinist destiny, and conceiving the state as an isolated and selfish
organism, not providing any guarantee of global stability, and relying only on
strength. At the time, Panarin considered this view to be the strict opposite
of the “civilizational” awareness that Neo-Eurasianism
should be. The two thinkers did, however, end up sharing some points of view,
as a consequence of Panarin’s intellectual evolution rather than to Dugin’s.
Thus, Panarin gradually came to corroborate Dugin’s public supremacy in matters
Neo- Eurasian, attending the foundation of the Evraziia
movement in 2001 and becoming a member of the party’s Central Council in
2002.27
According to Dugin, Panarin had even agreed, before his illness, to
write a foreword to one of Dugin’s later books, Political Philosophy.28 The
philosopher’s sudden death, however, eliminated this ally-cum-competitor from
the public stage. Dugin’s attraction to the early Eurasianism
developed by 1920s and 1930s Russian émigrés is not a belated addition to his
doctrines. At the end of the 1980s, while he was still close to certain
monarchist groups, Dugin had already become the apostle of a Eurasianist conception
of Russia, and had contributed to its spread among the patriotic circles linked
to Den’.
Today, he continues to be a dominant influence among those trying to
rehabilitate the founding fathers of Eurasianism: he
has edited compilations of the principal texts of the movement’s main
theoreticians, Pyotr N. Savitsky, Nikolay S. Trubetskoi,
Nikolay N. Alekseev etc., at Agraf, then through Arctogaia publications.29 In his introductions to these
compilations, he systematically tries to link the inter-war Eurasianist
teachings as closely as possible with his contemporary definition of Neo-Eurasianism. He does not, however, appropriate the highly
elaborate theories of the founding fathers concerning the historical,
geographical or religious legitimacy of the Russian Empire. He is content with
trying to establish a geopolitics for post-Soviet Russia, helping the country
to become aware of its particular eschatological sensibility: “the current
transformations in Russia’s geopolitical space and all of Eurasia are difficult
to understand unless interpreted as a sign of the times, announcing the
proximity of the climax.”30
Dugin even criticizes the founding fathers for having been overly
philosophical and poetic: according to him, Eurasianism
had the right intuitions (for example, the idea of a “third continent” and the
importance of the Mongol period in the formation of Russian identity), but was
unsuccessful in formalizing them theoretically. “In Eurasianism
we are confronted with a double indeterminacy: the indeterminacy characteristic
of Russian thought itself, and an attempt to systematize this indetermination
into a new indeterminate conception.”31 His attitude toward the other
Neo-Eurasianists is even more negative: apart from the historian and
ethnologist Lev Gumilev (1912–1992), many of whose ethnicist conceptions he shares, Dugin considers his
ideological competitors worthless, and affirms that their Neo-Eurasianist
conceptions are “hardly consistent [and] represent only an adaptation to a
changing political reality of the whole complex of ideas already quoted.”32
Dugin’s Eurasianism involves a great interest
in geopolitics, the main discipline on which he bases his theories. For him,
geopolitics by definitionserves the state in which it
is elaborated. Thus, Russian geopolitics could only be Eurasianist, since it is
responsible for restoring Russia’s great power status. It is also intended
exclusively for the elites: according to Dugin, geopolitics is opposed to the
democratic principle because the ability to know the meaning of things is
unavoidably restricted to the leaders. It is to this end that Dugin refers to
the big names of the discipline, such as the Germans Friedrich Ratzel
(1844–1904), Karl Haushofer (1869–1946), and Friedrich Naumann (1860–1919), the
Swede Rudolf Kjellen (1864–1922), and the Briton Sir
Halford Mackinder (1861–1947). In fact one could argue that, there is little
that is Russian in Dugin’s intellectual baggage. Apart from Konstantin Leontyev (1831–91),33 whom Dugin sometimes mentions, he is
far more inspired by Western authors than by Russians. For example, he speaks
with admiration of the German organicists, such as Ernst Jünger (1895–1998),
Oswald Spengler (1880–1936), Arthur Moeller van den Bruck (1876–1925), or Ernst
Niekisch (1889–1967) and Carl Schmitt (1888–1985). He
borrows from Schmitt his conception of the nomos, the general form of
organization of the objective and subjective factors of a given territory, and
the theory of Großraum, “large spaces.”
Dugin attaches great value to this German heritage, and wishes to be
viewed as a continental geopolitician on a par with Schmitt and Haushofer:
Russia’s centrality and continentality, to him, are comparable to those of
Germany in the 1920s–30s. He thus develops his own bipolar interpretation of
the world, opposing the ‘Heartland’, which tends toward authoritarian regimes,
to the ‘World Island’, the incarnation of the democratic and commercial system.
He combines the classic Eurasianist theories with this bipolar division of the
world into sea-based and land-based societies, or thallassocracies
and tellurocracies, and links them to various classic couples of concepts from
“Russian thought” (Western Christianity/Orthodoxy, West/East,
democracy/ideocracy, individualism/collectivism, societies marked by
change/societies marked by continuity). The opposition between capitalism and
socialism is seen as just one particular historical clash destined to continue
in other forms. “The Earth and the Sea disseminate their original opposition to
the whole planet. Human history is nothing but the expression of this struggle
and the path of its absolutization.”34
Dugin then divides the world into four civilizational zones: the
American zone, the Afro- European zone, the Asian-Pacific zone, and the
Eurasian zone. Russia must strive to establish various geopolitical alliances
organized as concentric circles. In Europe, Russia must of course ally itself
with Germany, to which Dugin pays particular attention. Presented as the heart
of Europe, Germany should dominate all of Central Europe as well as Italy, in
accordance with the theories of ‘centrality’ developed by the Nazi
geopoliticians as well as 19th century Prussian militarism. In Asia, Russia
should ally itself with Japan, appreciated for its Pan-Asian ideology and the
Berlin-Rome-Tokyo axis during the Second World War. Within the Muslim world,
Dugin chooses Islamic Iran, admired for its moral rigorism. He presents Iran as
one of the few real forces of opposition against American globalization, and
invites it to unify the entire Arab world, as well as Pakistan and Afghanistan,
under its leadership. Dugin characterizes this quadruple alliance Russia-Germany-
Japan-Iran which would react against the thalassocracies (the United States,
Britain in Europe, China in Asia, Turkey in the Muslim world) as a
“confederation of large spaces,”35 since each ally is itself an empire that
dominates the corresponding civilizational area. Unlike the Eurasianists of the
1920s, Dugin does not talk of an irreducible and romantic opposition between
East and West; in Dugin’s theories, both Asia and Europe are destined to come
under Russian-Eurasian domination.
As the maritime and democratic enemy allegedly has a “fifth column” in
Russia, Dugin calls for a restoration of the Soviet Union and a reorganization
of the Russian Federation. He is the only Neo-Eurasianist to include in his
political project not only the Baltic States, but the whole former socialist
bloc.36 His Eurasia must even expand beyond Soviet space, as he proposes to
incorporate Manchuria, Xingjian, Tibet, and Mongolia, as well as the Orthodox
world of the Balkans: Eurasia would only reach its limits with “geopolitical
expansion to the shores of the Indian ocean,”37 an idea that was taken up and
popularized by Zhirinovskii. Dugin also proposes a
general repartition of the Federation, and especially of Siberia, which he
considers to have been on the verge of implosion for quite some time. He calls
for the abolition of the “national republics,” to be replaced by purely administrative
regions subservient to Moscow.
In The Foundations of Geopolitics, he acknowledges his hopes for the
breakup of Yakutia, Tatarstan, Bashkortostan, and Buryatia, condemned for their
separatism and their capacity to form Buddhist or Pan-Turkic anti-Russian axes
with the neighboring regions. He wishes to unify them with industrialized
regions that have a Russian majority, such as the Urals or the Pacific shore [Primorskii krai].38
As in the Eurasianism of the 1920s–30s, the
non-Russian peoples, and particularly the Turko- Muslim minorities, are treated
ambiguously.
They are appreciated as key elements confirming the distinctiveness of
Russia’s Eurasian identity, but are also presented as potential competitors or
even enemies if they decided no longer to go along with a Russian-dominated
multinational Eurasia. The international events of the past few years,
especially 9/11, as well as the second war in Chechnya and the ensuing
terrorist acts that covered Russia with blood, forced Dugin to fine-tune his
conception of Islam, and to be more cautious in his positive appreciation of a
certain type of Islamic radicalism. Thus, at a symposium called “Islamic Threat
or Threat against Islam?” organized by Evraziia on 28
June 2001, the party officials disavowed fundamentalism, presented as a danger
to traditional Islam, and asserted a wish to create a Eurasian Committee for
Russian-Muslim Strategic Partnership. According to Evraziia,
traditional Islam, Sufism, Shi’ism, and Orthodox Christianity are spontaneously
Eurasian, whereas Catholicism and Protestantism, but also U.S.- sponsored
radical Islamism, represent Atlanticism.
Dugin thus tries to distinguish between Shi’ite fundamentalism, which
he considers positive, from Sunni fundamentalism, which he disparages. Dugin’s
wish to dissociate a “good” traditional Islam from the other branches of the
religion, which he all equates with Wahhabism, is shared by numerous contemporarz Russian nationalist movements, which aim to
woo official Russian Islam. This kind of talk permitted Dugin to recruit the
leaders of the Central Spiritual Directorate of Russian Muslims into his Evraziia movement. Dugin tries to preclude any competition
with Turkic Eurasianism on the question of the
country’s religious and national minorities.
He has managed brilliantly to present his movement not only as a tool
for upholding Russian power, but also as a pragmatic solution to Russia’s
internal tensions. Thus, from its creation in 2001, Evraziia
includes representatives of sensitive regions such as Yakutia-Sakha, the North
Caucasus, and Tatarstan, and was pleased to bring together all of Russia’s
confessions: many muftis from the Central Spiritual Directorate of Muslims,
including their leader, Talgat Tadzhuddin, but also
Buddhists (Dordzhi- Lama, the co-ordinator
of the Union of Kalmyk Buddhists) and members of the Radical Zionist Movement,
adhered to the party and stated their desire to fight the rise of religious
extremism using the integration strategy implicit in the Eurasian idea.
However, Dugin does not limit himself to bringing Eurasianism’s
geopolitical view of Russia up to date. He seeks to anchor it in a global
vision and to present it as a relevant mode of analysis that would help
understand the entire evolution of the post-Cold War world. Once again, Dugin
is playing the “guide,” using the innumerable Western texts he is familiar with
to adapt classic ideas from the history of Russian thought to contemporary
debates. Thus, for several years now he has centered his argument about the Eurasian
nature of Russia entirely on the topic of globalization. According to him,
globalization presents as obvious truth what is actually ideology:
representative democracy as the end of the history of human development, the
primacy of the individual over any community, the impossibility of escaping the
logic of the liberal economy, etc.39 He argues that only the Eurasianist
solution offers a viable alternative with a strong theoretical potential that
could face up to the current globalization processes instituted by the United
States. “Russia is the incarnation of the quest for an historical alternative
to Atlanticism. Therein lies her global mission.”40
Like all Neo-Eurasianists, Dugin is a supporter of Samuel Huntington’s
“clash of civilizations” argument, which is fashionable in Russia. Huntington’s
warmongering allows Dugin to affirm the necessity of maintaining the Russian
imperial structure and to reject any prospect of a global equilibrium.
According to him, the Russian nation needs to be prepared for “defending its
national truth, not only against its enemies, but also against its allies.”41
Indeed, Dugin’s geopolitical doctrine cannot function without creating enemies.
He bases his ideology on conspiracy theories, presenting the new world order as
a “spider web” in which globalized actors hide in order to better accomplish
their mission. Dugin even dedicated a whole book (published in 1993 and republished
in a revised version in 2005) to what he calls conspirology.
The ideas expressed in it are contradictory. He harshly criticizes the
presuppositions about Jewish, freemason, Marxist etc. conspiracies held bynumerous left- and right-wing political groups, but he
also shares some of their deas.42 For example, he recounts a secret history of
the Soviet Union in which a Eurasianist order opposes its Atlanticist
counterpart. The putsch of August 1991 is described as the culmi-nation
of the occult war between these two orders. According to Dugin, however, the
alternatives to globalization remain limited: either left-wing ideologies
worked out in the West, or a right-wing liberalism and the stagnation typical
of Asian countries. Dugin also notes that these two alternatives are opposed to
each other even though they share a common enemy. He therefore proposes that
Russia elaborate a fertile combination, because “all anti-globalization
tendencies are ‘Eurasianist’ by definition.”43 Dugin does not play the autarchy
card at any cost: he is convinced that the Eurasian model of resistance to
American domination is exportable to the rest of the planet. He presents it as
the most appropriate way of resisting the so-called New World Order. One of the
aims of his thinking is therefore, as he describes it, “to transform Russian
distinctiveness into a universal model of culture, into a vision of the world
that is alternative to Atlanticist globalization but also global in its own
way.”44
Thus Russia is called upon to participate in world affairs while
constructing a certain Eurasian cultural autarchy. Much more than, for example,
Pyotr Savitsky and Count Trubetskoi, Dugin seems to
have completely internalized the contradiction between, on the one hand, an
exaltation of national distinctiveness and a passionate rejection of any
borrowing that would risk “warping” Russia and, on the other hand, a desire for
geopolitical and ideological expansionism and a new messianism. Far from being
just a “successor” to the first Eurasianists, he is a theoretician who has
multiple or even contradictory facets: many other doctrines have influenced his
intellectual evolution at least as much as, if not more than, Eurasianism.
Traditionalism is a comparatively little studied strand of thought,
although many 20th century thinkers have been more or less discreetly inspired
by it.45 In the 1920s, René Guénon (1886–1951)
formalized the main concepts of Traditionalism in five books.46 He went through
a Catholic phase, followed by a spiritualist stage (first in a theosophist
lodge, then in the Martinist Order), during which he
discovered the oriental religions and became disappointed with the West, which
he thought incapable of restoring a mystical bond with faith. He left France
for Cairo, where he joined an Egyptian order and tried to put his
Traditionalist precepts into practice in Sufism. During the 1930s, his ideas
were developed in Italy, Germany and Romania, and Traditionalism became one of
the main catchwords for fascist-minded spiritualist groups. The work of Guénon’s main disciple, Julius Evola (1896–1974), an
Italian painter close to the Dadaists, should be mentioned here. One of his
books, Revolt against the Modern World (translated by Dugin in Russian), had a
deep influence on German and Italian Neo-pagan movements. Traditionalism gained
a new impetus in the 1960s, in particular in the Muslim world and, to a lesser
extent, in Russia.
Traditionalists believe in the Tradition, that is, in the existence of
a world that was steady in its religious, philosophical, and social principles
and started disappearing with the advent of modernity in the sixteenth century.
Modernity is considered to be harmful in that it destrois
the pre-established hierarchical order that is natural to the world: the
hierarchization of human beings is believed to be of transcendent origin and to
have a mystical value. The Tradition is better preserved in non-Western
civilizations, but through the colonial experience, the reassessment of the
past begun in the West during Renaissance spread to other cultural spaces. Guénon gives this view—which, in its political aspects, is
a typical example of counterrevolutionary thought (de Maistre, Bonald)—a
religious coloring that makes Traditionalism stand out among conservative
currents. For him, all religions and esoteric traditions—regardless of their
concrete practice—reveal the existence of a now-extinct original sacred Tradition.
Dubbed the “primordial Tradition,” it is seen as the secret essence of all
religions. Guénon then urges the modern world to
regain an awareness of this unity in the face of the desacralization and
secularization of the modern world.
Through this appeal, he has influenced numerous Gnostic and Masonic
currents, as well as several Sufi orders. Some Traditionalist texts seem to
have been known in the USSR since the 1960s thanks to the poet Yevgeny Golovin
and his discovery of Louis Pauwel’s The Morning of the Magicians. From the end
of the 1970s, Dugin participated in Golovin’s circle of occultist
intellectuals, which included, among others, the Muslim thinker Geydar Dzhemal’ and the writer YuriMamleev (who would later leave the country for the
United States). The intellectual unity of this circle was based on a
simultaneous rejection of the Soviet experience, the West, and Slavophilism.
These clandestine activities, as well as the possession of forbidden books,
caused Dugin to be expelled from the Moscow Aviation Institute where he had
been studying. Introduced to Traditionalism at a very young age, Dugin
translated the 1933 version of Evola’s Pagan Imperialism into Russian in 1981
and distributed it in samizdat. Choosing among the various currents of
Traditionalism, Dugin did not content himself with the search for an individual
inner spiritual way—such as that, for example, of A. K. Coomaraswamy
(1877–1947), which concentrates on the aesthetic aspect of Traditionalism.
Dugin is closer to Evola, who developed a politicized vision of Traditionalism,
and does not hesitate to affirm a sacrificial conception of politics: “We need
a new party. A party of death. A party of the total vertical. God’s party, the
Russian analogue to the Hezbollah, that would act according to wholly different
rules and contemplate completely different pictures. For the System, death is
truly the end. For a normal person, it is only a beginning.”47
The influence of Traditionalism on Dugin seems to be fundamental: it
constitutes his main intellectual reference point and the basis of his
political attitudes as well as his Eurasianism. Dugin
has made considerable efforts to disseminate Traditionalist thought in Russia.
He regularly translates extracts from the works of the great Traditionalist
theoreticians, René Guénon and Julius Evola, but also
from so-called “soft” Traditionalist authors such as Mircea Eliade and Carl
Jung; so-called “hard” Traditionalists like Titus Burckhardt; converts to
Sufism, such as Frithjof Schuon; and converts to Islamism, like Claudio Mutti.
The journals Elementy, and, especially, Milyi angel, whose full subtitle is “Metaphysics,
angelology, cosmic cycles, eschatology, and tradition,” are dedicated to the
diffusion of Traditionalist thought. They include articles on specifically
Russian apocalyptic traditions, aiming to facilitate the acceptance of
Traditionalism in Russia by proving that elements of it were present in old popular
conceptions (the mystical currents of Orthodoxy, the myth about the submerged
city of Kitezh, hesychasm, and the teachings of
Gregory of Palama).
Dugin also lectured on Traditionalism at the New University in 2002,
and published his lectures in The Philosophy of Traditionalism in the same
year. He believes that the contemporary period, being profoundly
eschatological, allows him to disseminate the Traditionalist message much more
broadly than before, and to reveal the radical and revolutionary character of Guénon by teaching what Dugin calls Guénon’s
“eschatological humanism.”48 “Tradition, according to Guénon’s
definition, is the totality of divinely revealed, non-human Knowledge, which
determined the makeup of all sacred civilizations— from the paradisiacal
empires of the Golden Age, which disappeared several millennia ago, to Medieval
civilization which, in its various forms (Christian, Islamic, Buddhist,
Confucian, etc.) reproduced the fundamental parameters of Sacred Order.”49
According to Dugin, the mission of soteriological Traditionalism has
three stages: the first, or individual stage, is to contribute to the
development of the Tradition as such, i.e. of esotericism; the second,
political and exoteric stage, is to reaffirm the superiority of the laws of the
church (or, for example, of the Shari’a); the third,
or social stage, is to assist in the restoration of a hierarchy of medieval
orders. Dugin is never, however, a simple ideological “reproducer.” He hopes to
“Russify” the doctrines that inspire him, and to adapt them to what he calls
the traditional concepts of the Russian world. Thus, he defines himself as a
“post- Guénonist,”50 seeking to deepen Guénon’s basic
ideas, which implies acknowledging certain points of disagreement with the
founding father. His main criticism of the Western Traditionalists, and in
particular of Guénon, concerns their vision of
Orthodoxy. In The Metaphysics of the Gospel (1996), Dugin asserts that Guénon, who held that Christianity became exoteric after
the great Councils, was actually targeting the two Western confessions, but not
Orthodoxy, which has retained its initiatic character
and esoteric foundations to this day.51 He also affirms that metaphysics and
ontology, which Traditionalism attempts to rehabilitate, have been particularly
well preserved in Orthodoxy, which has never rejected an eschatological
approach: “We are the church of the final times […], the history of the
terrestrial church is probably nearing its end.”52Concerning the divisions
between Neopagans and Christians that shook the Western Traditionalist
movement, Dugin remains in an ambiguous position that is revelatory of his own
hesitations on this matter. He appreciates the rehabilitation of paganism as
Tradition proposed by Evola. Like Evola, he believes that Christianity has
remained the most pagan monotheism (through the figure of the Trinity), and
admires the importance of entropy and eschatology in the pagan religions. He
remains, however, deeply anchored in Christianity and, like Guénon,
sees it (but only in its Eastern variety) as the repository of Tradition. Dugin
affirms that “the developmental stages of the metaphysical constructions in
orthodox Guénonian (and Evolian) Traditionalism
[lead] to the ultimate affirmation of Orthodox Trinitarian metaphysics, in
which all the most valuable vectors of insight found their complete and
accomplished expression […] Everyone who follows this metaphysical logic […] necessarily
arrives at Orthodoxy.”53 Dugin remains, however, attracted to Neopagan
conceptions, which exalt the body and harmony with nature, although he remains
embedded in Orthodoxy as the founding institution of Russian distinctiveness.
His position on this question is therefore revolutionary in its break with
Christianity, and fundamentally conservative in its respect for the religious
institution and its hierarchy. Dugin links an esoteric account of the world to
Orthodoxy, which he sees as having preserved an initiatic
character, a ritualism where each gesture has a symbolic meaning.
He thus calls for the restoration of an Orthodox vision of the world,
for a “clericalization [otserkovlenie] of
everything.”54 This opposition, however, which had divided the German National
Socialists and later the New Right, may seem less relevant for Russia:
Orthodoxy, unlike Catholicism or Protestantism, is more easily instrumentalized
as a specifically national rather than universal faith. This is indeed how
Dugin interprets it: he regularly participates in the various nationalist
movements launched by official Russian Orthodoxy.55 His adherence, since 1999,
to the Old Believers allows him to uphold a strictly national faith without
having to make the difficult choice of converting to paganism and reject
official Orthodoxy.56 Dugin tries to present the Russian schism of the 17th
century as the archetype of Traditionalist thought, born of the rejection of
the secularization of Orthodoxy, which he dates at around the same time as that
given by Guénon for the end of Tradition in the West
(after the end of the Thirty Years’War in 1648). So “Eurasianism will only be entirely logical if it is based on
a return to the Old Belief, the true ancient and authentic Russian faith, the
true Orthodoxy.”57 According to Dugin, the schismatic church is simultaneously
conservative and revolutionary, espousing a cult of the earth (like paganism),
free of an institutionalized conception of faith, and driven by a fundamentally
apocalyptic vision of the fate of humanity. This view is ideologically
convenient since it permits Dugin to avoid making a choice between a national
paganism and a universal faith. Thus, Orthodoxy, and in particular the Old
Believers, can incorporate Neo-paganism’s nationalist force, which anchors it
in the Russian soil and separates it from the two other Christian confessions.
Dugin fully agrees with the Traditionalist criticism of spiritualism. Guénon already considered spiritualism to be a
“counter-initiation,” a reconstruction of pseudo-traditions actually born of
modernity, which must be condemned for wanting to usurp the real Tradition. For
Dugin too, theosophism, cosmism and the New Age
religions are a spiritualist version of post-industrial modernity and a veiled
cult of technology.58 He condemns their populism and lack of coherent spiritual
conceptions, whereas he sees Traditionalism as intended for a restricted elite,
which is alone able to understand its requirements.59
Dugin views religion as being at the foundation of societies as well as
modes of analyzing societies. This implies a reinterpretation of modern Western
intellectual life, and especially of its scientific attitudes. Following the
Traditionalist precept that rationality is a mental construct, and progress a
notion that bears no relation to reality, Dugin argues that the positivist
foundation of contemporary science must be questioned in its very principle.60
Since the Renaissance, the separation between sacred and profane, like that
between art and science, has opened the way to a distorted vision of the human
ability to understand the universe. Dugin therefore calls for a rehabilitation
of esoteric knowledge as part of scientific research, and appreciates Romantic Naturphilosophie because of its intention to recre-ate a holistic knowledge of the world. Likewise, he
believes in the imminent end of positivist science, and in the rebirth of
synthetic sciences that would be full of meaning and reveal man’s place in the
world.
Dugin formulates this idea by trying to theorize so-called “sacred
sciences.” According to him, their sacredness expresses itself not in a
specific methodology, but rather in the functions and goals attributed to the
discipline. Like the modern sciences, thus, these “sacred sciences” have a
specific object of research, but they do not lose their ties with ontological
and gnoseological knowledge.61 One of the fields capable of fusing objective
data and philosophical background is geopolitics. Dugin ystematically
presents it not as a simple scientific discipline, but as a Weltanschauung, a
meta-science which encompasses all the other sciences, thereby endowing them
with meaning. According to him, “geopolitics is a vision of the world. It is
therefore better to compare it not to sciences, but to systems of sciences. It
is on the same level as marxism, liberalism, etc.,
i.e. systems of interpretation of society and history.”62
Dugin does not limit himself to a spiritual or intellectual
understanding of Traditionalism. He asserts that it is in itself an “an
ideology or metaideology that is in many ways
totalitarian and requires that those that adopt it accept its stringent
requirements.”63 Among these requirements, political commitment seems
fundamental to Dugin. According to him, Traditionalism is the metaphysical root
of numerous political ideologies, in particular those known as the theories of
the Third Way. He thus outlines three types of doctrines that are
simultaneously philosophical, religious and political, and between them govern
the entire history of the world. The first, which he calls the
polar-paradisiacal one, expressed itself on the religious level as esotericism or
Gnosticism, on the historical level as the medieval civilization of the
Ghibellines, then German National Socialism, and on the political level as
eschatological totalitarianism. The second ideology, called the
“creation-creator” one, is religiously exoteric, its historical incarnation is
Catholicism or classical Sunnism. On the political level it blends theocracy,
clericalism and conservatism.
The third ideology, defined as “mystical materialism,” is a form of
absolutist pantheism embodied in the militant atheism of the liberal West.64
Dugin thus formalizes two “rights,” a revolutionary and a conservative one (the
third ideology represents the “left”), and displays a distinct preference for
the former of the visions of the world. Dugin also proposes another
Traditionalist terminology with which to define the political spectrum, which
he sees as always being divided into three groups. The right is “History as
Decadence, the necessity of instantaneous Restoration, the primacy of
eschatology.” The center is “History as Constancy, the necessity to preserve
the balance between the Spiritual and the Material.” The left is “History as
Progress, the necessity to contribute to its advancement and acceleration in
every possible way.”65 In this second account, conservatism seems to be
classified as being in the center, thereby reserving the right exclusively for
the revolutionary movement of which Dugin considers himself a representative.
This reveals the ambiguous political place he attributes to
Traditionalism: “from the point of view of Integral Traditionalism, the only
adequate position for implementing the principles of the Sacred Tradition to
contemporary political reality is, in a normal case, that of the which is often
called ‘extreme right’ […].
But social history advances in a sense which is strictly opposed to this ideal,
from theocracy to secularism, from monarchism to egalitarianism, and from
spiritual and empire-building discipline to an apology of comfort and
individual well-being. […] This is why the ‘extreme right’ on the political
level often proves to be too “left” for the authentic Traditionalist […] Some
Traditionalists may pass from ‘extreme right’ positions to the ‘extreme left,’
revolutionary or even socialist or communist wing, while remaining fully
consistent and logical in their actions.”66 This idea of the interchangeability
of left and right is reminiscent of certain ideas of the Western New Right.
Dugin has often been compared to Alain de Benoist (b. 1943), the
principal theoretician of the French movement called “New Right.” This school
of thought emerged in the second half of the 1970s, going back to the GRECE
(Groupe d’Études et de Recherche sur la Civilisation Européenne) and the
magazine Nouvelle École.67The two men met during Dugin’s stay in Paris at the
end of the 1980s, and they remained close collaborators for a few years. In
1992, for example, the patriotic newspaper Den’ published the transcript of a
round table discussion with Dugin, Aleksandr Prokhanov,
Sergei Baburin and Alain de Benoist.68 When Dugin launched his own journal the
same year, he called it Elementy and presented it as
the Russian version of Éléments, the magazine of the
European New Right. This publication made the split between Dugin and the more
classical nationalists of Den’ (future Zavtra)
official, but did not prevent disagreements with de Benoist. Thus, in 1993, de
Benoist strove to clear himself of associations with Dugin after a virulent
French and German press campaign against the “red-and-brown threat” in Russia.
In an interview, he acknowledged that he had become aware of a number of
ideological divergences with Dugin, concerning politics, e.g. on the concept of
Eurasia and Russian imperialistic tendencies69, but also theory.
Indeed, de Benoist makes only partial use of Traditionalism, whereas
Dugin draws on the whole body of that doctrine. Conversely, de Benoist is
strongly attracted to Heidegger’s philosophy, while Dugin does not find it
congenial. Nevertheless, the careers of both men have many features in common.
For example, it is impossible to classify either using pre-defined ideological
patterns, or to pin down their political sympathies precisely in the classical rightleft spectrum. Both reject populism and, in spite a few
fruitless attempts, neither of them has been able to find a political party
capable of reflecting their complex thought. Since the early 1990s, de Benoist
has never hidden his contempt for Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front,70 while
Dugin condemns the famous figures of Russian nationalism, such as Eduard
Limonov, Gennady Ziuganov, or Vladimir Zhirinovskii, despite having more or less directly inspired
them. Like the French thinker, he subjects the entire right-wing spectrum in
his country to fierce criticism, denies the relevance of the distinction
between right and left, and cannot accept the electoral populism of those
groups, in particular their most xenophobic statements. In the diversity of his
sources of inspiration and in his striving to to find
an alternative way of thinking, Dugin seems as alienated from traditional
Russian nationalism as de Benoist is from the classic French nationalism of
Charles Maurras or Maurice Barrès.
Both Dugin and de Benoist have therefore regularly had to explain their
stance, and have been considered as “traitors” by other factions of the radical
right. Dugin, for example, provided a lengthy explanation of his dismissal of
ethnonationalism.
According to him, the Russian nationalist milieu is divided into two
groups: on the one hand are the Pan-Slavists and
monarchists, who have an ethnocentric and politically outdated vision of
Russia; on the other hand are the Eurasianists, Communists and pro-statists,
who give priority to great state power over ethnic feeling, and who are above
all focused on the future.71 Indeed, like de Benoist, Dugin attempts to
“dissociate the question of identity affirmation from the question of
nationalism”:72 he extols non-xenophobic nationalism, criticizes Pan- Slavist sentimentalism such as it manifested itself in
Russia during the Balkan wars of the 1990s, and rejects the popular
anti-Caucasian phobia instrumentalized by politicians such as Ziuganov, or, even more strongly, Zhirinovskii.
Dugin thus calls for a rational, dispassionate nationalism, one that
would acknowledge its borrowings from alternative projects such as religious
fundamentalism, Third Worldism or left-wing
environmentalism. Since the 1980s, Dugin and de Benoist have been the main
proponents, in their respective countries, of a doctrinal revitalization of
right-wing thought. Both also presuppose that the conquest of political power
requires first gaining cultural power. For more than a decade, de Benoist’s aim
has been to disseminate his doctrines in French intellectual circles, in
particular through the journal Krisis, which offers a
space for critical discussion between the foremost right-wing and left-wing
thinkers. This preference for culture also explains Dugin’s choice of public
strategy over the past few years.
In spite of their break, Dugin continues to make regular references to
de Benoist, and shares his hope for a continental destiny for Europe, built
along overtly anti-Atlanticist lines. He borrows many conceptions from the Jeune Europe movement, as well as from the Belgian Jean Thiriart (1922–92), who had striven for a Euro-Soviet
empire to be brought about by a movement he called “national communitarian”.
What is common to all these trends is a strivingfor
what they call organic democracy, which would place the state at the service of
the national community. This kind of democracy would express itself in
political unanimity as well as in a return to a “natural hierarchy” of social
castes, and in a (professional, regional or confessional) corporatism that
would leave no room for the individual outside the collectivity. Thus, Dugin
distinguishes himself from other figures in the Russian nationalist movements
precisely through his militant Europeanism, his exaltation of the Western
Middle Ages, and his admiration for Germany. All these ideological features
contrast strongly with the ethnocentrism of his competitors and a Soviet
tradition of equating Germany with “fascism”. This is why Dugin has often been
criticized, in particular by the Communists, for whom the Russian
“anti-fascist” tradition rules out the recognition of any German, and more
generally Western, cultural influence on Russian nationalism. Even more than de
Benoist, Dugin has an ambiguous position on the racial question.
GRECE has largely abandoned the theme of biological realism,” which was
very present in Jeune Europe and other radical
nationalist factions, and has preferred to insist on a cultural and non-racial differentialism since the 1960s. De Benoist was the main
driving force behind this evolution, and, since the end of the 1960s, he has
condemned all racial ideas, which he presents as an application of the
Judeo-Christian presuppositions he criticizes. Nevertheless, racial arguments
remain important in other Western radical right-wing circles. On this point,
Dugin does not go as far as de Benoist: he remains more influenced by racialist
currents as well as by those Traditionalists who, like Evola and unlike Guénon, were also sensitive to racial topics. Thus, Dugin
condemns racialism in its Nazi version for having led to the Holocaust, but
also for having crystallized around a German-centered vision of the world
instead of a European one. Dugin supports Evola’s criticism of the racial and
anti-Semitic determinism of Third Reich Germany, but shares his vision of race
as the “soul” of peoples.78
He systematically constructs an opposition between race and
geopolitics, between nationalism and loyalty to the state, and systematically
takes a stand in favor of the latter. Nevertheless, he regularly uses the term
“race” to clarify what he calls “civilizational” differences. For instance,
Eurasia to him is a racial synthesis between Whites (the Indo-European Slavs)
and Yellows (the Finno-Turkic peoples): according to the Evolian principle of
“spiritual racism,” each of these races is endowed with innate qualities
revelatory of certain philosophical principles79 which Dugin, borrowing from
the Slavophile A.S. Khomiakov80 (1804–60), calls the Finnish and the Frisian
principles: the former, that of the “Whites,” is associated with
authoritarianism, hierarchy, order, exotericism; to the latter, that of the
“Yellows,” correspond equality, liberty, and esotericism. The hybrid nature of
Eurasia, which is simultaneously white and yellow, gives it a global role to
play: Russia will start its Nordic renewal, and “wherever there is a single
drop of Aryan (Slavic, Turkic, Caucasian, European) blood, there is a chance
for racial awakening, for the rebirth of the primordial Aryan conscience.”81
Dugin’s texts abound in references to Aryanism and Neo-paganism, a
classic corollary of the racial ideology and of the idea of the original
superiority of the Whites. Here again, his inspiration comes from the New
Right, which since the 1950s has tried to transcend traditional nationalism by
refocusing on the European idea, and from the doctrines of Europe-Action. These
proponents of the idea of an ethnic and cultural unity of European peoples no
longer wish to express their identity in an insular or chauvinist manner,
remembering the obstacles that divided the European nationalists during the
Second World War. Thus Dugin accepts the theory of a “defense of the West,” if
this term is understood in its ancient racial and Aryan sense, not in terms of
contemporary Western culture. In his works, he regularly refers to Guido von
List (1848–1919) and Jörg Lanz von Liebenfels
(1874–1954), the famous thinkers of Germanic Aryanism, and presents himself as
one of the founders of Ariosophy, or the science of
Aryan wisdom.
There are even more frequent references to Hermann Wirth (1885–1981),
one of Dugin’s favorite authors, and to his occultist theories on the Arctic
homeland of the original Aryan peoples. “Thousands of years ago, our land
welcomed thedescendants of the Arctic, the
founders of the Hindu and Iranian civilizations.
We (especially as Orthodox Christians) are themost
direct heirs of the Arctic, of its ancient traditions.” 82 Guénon
would have affirmed that the Hyperborean civilization was not in Scandinavia
but more to the East, a theory that Dugin has discussed at length, in
particular in The Mysteries of Eurasia (1991). In this book, he presents
Siberia and its enormous Nordic continental mass as the original cradle of the
Aryans, as well as the magical center of the world, following the idea that
“the continents have a symbolic significance.”83 In The Hyperborean Theory
(1993) and The Philosophy of Traditionalism (2002), he also professes his
belief in a runic writing, a kind of Aryan Grail written in a universal
proto-language, supposedly discovered and published by Hermann Wirth in 1933
under the name of Chronicle of Ura-Linda.84
Dugin’s occultist leanings are also apparent in his striving to create
a metaphysics of the cardinal points, which he perceives as absolutes that are
sources of identity. The North and the East are at the heart of his esoteric
concerns: the North confirms Russia’s Nordic identity, a fundamental element of
the discourse of racial identity inspired by Nazism. The East is the expression
of Russia-Eurasia’s inner Oriental nature. “The Drang nach
Osten und Norden of Russia is the natural geopolitical process of Russian
history.”85 Russia’s global role then appears distinctly, since only Russia
combines the symbolic distinctions of being racially Northern, Eastern by its
cultural and religious choices, and economically Southern, an ally of a Third
World resisting Westernization. In a blend of the Nazi and Eurasianist
traditions, Dugin sees Siberia as destined to play a major role in the new
Russian identity. He thus elaborates a cosmogony of the world in order to make
Siberia, the last “empire of paradise”86 after Thule, the instrument of his
geopolitical desire for a domination of the world, justified by Russia’s
“cosmic destiny.”87
Dugin advances various occultist lines of reasoning in favor of this
Hyperborean theory, drawing on the mystique of the alphabets, sounds, numbers,
and geometric symbols, references to the Kabbala, alchemy, Hermeticism,
Gnosticism, the law of astrological correspondences, parallels with Iranian and
Indian culture, etc. Dugin defines this set of theories as sacred geography,
that is to say, “the unknown science of the secrets of world history, of the
enigmas of ancient civilization and continents, and of the origin of races,
religions and old mythologies.”88 All these elements of occultist culture are
not specific to the New Right, they have their roots in the esoteric ideas of
the founding fathers of Traditionalism, and have been explored by mystical
currents of the 1920s and 1930s close to fascism.
Fascism and National Bolshewism
The connections between Dugin’s ideas and fascism have been a subject
of much debate.89 However, the terms of the debate stand in need of definition.
Fascism is a historically circumscribed phenomenon that was politically and
intellectually liquidated with the end of the Second World War, though it left
some traces with small Neo-Fascist groups which reappeared, above all in Europe
and in Latin America, in the second half of the 20th century. Fascism can also
be chronologically and ideologically divided into Fascist movements and Fascist
regimes (in Italy and Germany). Only the first interest us here. To classify a
thought as “Fascist” does not, then, mean to predict that it will take power
and endanger human lives, nor to categorize it in a discriminatory manner that
would deny it the right to be analyzed. This terminology merely points to an
adherence to a specific intellectual tradition. Intellectual fascism shares
with the other currents of the “extreme right” a Romantic heroism (a cult of
the leader, the army, and physical effort, and the indoctrination of the
young), but distinguishes itself from them by its revolutionary and
pro-socialist aspects, as well as by its attraction to futurism and
esotericism.
Dugin’s ideas share many features of this original fascism, as he is
expecting a cultural revolution aiming to create a “New Man”. It cannot,
however, be equated with fascism if that is understood to designate the
contemporary racist extreme right, a designation that is moreover historically
and conceptually incorrect. On economics, Dugin unapologetically stands “on the
left,” even if this Western (or even “all-too-French”) terminology is not
necessarily applicable to the Russian political spectrum.
For example, Dugin repeatedly asserts that he has borrowed from certain
socialist theories, in particular on economics, since he is in favor of giving
the state a crucial role in production structures. Economics was not at all
addressed inhis first works, but it seems to have
taken on an increasing importance since 2001. Dugin even hopes to establish the
“theoretical sources of a new socialism,”90 based largely on a paternalistic
version of Keynesian economics. He has also appropriated some Marxian ideas: for
him, the opposition between labor and capital, Continentalism and Atlanticism,
and East and West, are parallel.91 These left-wing conceptions played a role in
Dugin’s rapprochement with the socialist-leaning economist Sergei Glaz’ev and their brief alliance in 2003 within the Rodina
bloc, which presented itself as a left-wing alternative to the Communist Party.
Dugin never plays the communist card. He has only negative things to
say about Marxism- Leninism such as it existed in the USSR, and has, for
several years, been a condescending critic of the Communist Party. He
appreciates Ziuganov’s borrowings from his
geopolitical theories, but condemns his electoral exploitation of Soviet
nostalgia, and most of all regrets his ideological inconsistency. According to
Dugin, the CPRF no longer has a claim to the heritage of the Communist Party of
the Soviet Union, and cannot even present itself as a left-wing party, since it
advances a series of arguments that Dugin classifies as right-wing, such as
social conservatism, racism and anti-Semitism, monarchism, calls for tax cuts,
etc. Dugin therefore believes that the Communist Party can be defined as an
unacknowledged Eurasianist movement, whose function is to express social
discontent, but not to take power.92
This combination of economic socialism and conservatism regarding
values is typical of currents espousing the so-called “third way”. Dugin
acknowledges his fundamental attraction to revolutionary ideas: he has never
been a partisan of any return to the past, which explains his gradual break
with so many other nationalist figures. He does not play the card of czarist or
Soviet nostalgia and sees himself as resolutely turned toward the future. For
example, he is a militant proponent of the introduction of modern technologies
in Russia, cultivating a strong presence of his own on the Internet and calling
for a “modernization without Westernization.” He is thus fully in accordance
with the doctrines of so-called National Bolshevism, whose theoreticians he
admires, whether they were Russian exiles, members of the Soviet party
apparatus, German Communists, or left-wing Nazis. During his dissident years,
Dugin seems to have opposed this strand of thought, which he did not identify
as “Traditionalist,”93 but in the 1990s, he changed his mind and attempted a
synthesis between his Guénonian philosophical
conceptions and the political ideas of the National Bolsheviks. Like many
dissidents, Dugin only took a positive view of the Soviet experience after two
events: a trip to the West in 1989, and the disappearance of the regime in
1991.
Dugin then developed the distinction proposed by Mikhail Agursky, between “National Bolshevism,” a messianic
ideology that has a national basis but a universal vocation, and “national
communism,” the Soviet newspeak term that designated the separatism of the
Russian Empire’s ethnic margins.94 Basing himself on Karl Popper,95 Dugin
defines National Bolshevism as a “meta-ideology common to all the enemies of
open society.”96 Indeed, what is most important for him is that right-wing and
left-wing totalitarian ideologies are united in their refusal to accord a
central role to the individual and to place it above the collectivity, be it
social or national. The phenomenon of National Bolshevism, then, is not a
specific moment of history, but a philosophical conception of the world which
has lost none of its relevance, bracketing together all non-conformist thinkers
seeking an alternative to liberalism and communism.
Dugin’s view of National Bolshevism rests largely on mystical
foundations, which once more reminds one of the original Fascists. He stresses
the parallels between esotericism and political commitment, be it Fascist,
Nazi, or Bolshevik: National Bolshevism is thus to him merely a politicized
version of Traditionalism, the modernized expression of the messianic hopes
that have existed in Russia since the fall of Constantinople in 1453. According
to Dugin, it heralds “the Last Revolution, worked by an acephalous, headless
bearer of cross, sickle and hammer, crowned by the eternal swastika of the
sun.”97 According to Dugin, the most complete incarnation of the Third Way was
German National-Socialism, much more so than Mussolini’s Italy or the inter-war
Russian exiles.
He then points out parallels between “Third Rome, the Third Reich, the
Third International,” 98 and attempts to prove their common eschatological
basis. For Dugin, the original triadof Father, Son
and Holy Spirit reveal to the initiated that the Third Reich, just like Third
Rome, will be the kingdom of the Holy Spirit. Thus, examining the fear that the
term “fascism” still causes today, even though the phenomenon no longer exists
as such, Dugin explains: “By fascism we obviously do not mean a concrete political
phenomenon, but our deepseated secret fear that
brings the nationalist, the liberal, the communist and the democrat closer
together. This fear does not have a political or ideological nature, it
expresses a more general, more deep-seated feeling […] [the fear of] a magical
fascism.”94
Dugin therefore advances a positive reading of fascism, and does not
denounce Nazism, even though he condemns its racism. He is content with
regretting that Hitler attacked the USSR and made mistakes in his application
of the theories of conservative revolution, which were better preserved by
left-wing Nazis who called for an alliance between Germany and the Soviet
Union. He especially appreciates the Waffen-SS95 and, even more, the cultural
organization Ahnenerbe. In his publications of the
1990s, particularly in periodicals and on his web sites, Dugin’s ideological
arsenal borrows from another typical component of the original fascism: the
ideologization of sex. According to him, men and women respond to different
philosophical principles (active and passive), and men’s superiority is proven
etymologically since, in numerous languages, a single term designates both
male persons and human beings in general.96 Thus, the liberalization of
sex, pornography, feminism, homosexuality, and the fashion for Freudianism and
psychoanalysis are part of the process of forced Westernization of the world.
This “era of gynecocracy”97 heralds the “castration” of men and, along with it,
the disappearance of traditional society. Dugin calls for a revindication of
eroticism in a phallo-centric and patriarchal way,
and hopes to develop a “patriotic conscience” of the sexual act because “empire
represents the culminating point of eroticism.”98
Like the original Fascists, Dugin admires the Romantic taste for death
and combat, shares a contempt for contemporary society, which he believes to be
bourgeois and decadent, and aspires to form young, purified generations: “the
Eurasian is a strong, healthy, and beautiful person, who has passionarity and passion […] Our ideal is to make good
physical and moral health, strength, valor, fidelity and pride honorable
goals.”99 The journals Elementy and Milyi Angel, as well as the Internet sites linked to Dugin,
are therefore filled with a strong military symbolism, and sometimes exhibit
muscular, weapon-laden and khaki-clad bodies. The back cover of one of his
latest books, The Philosophy of War (2004), is particularly explicit: “The
value of peoples, cultures and societies is proved in war and through it. The
beautiful is what has as its foundation the accomplishment of self-affirmation.
War renews Man, and the price to pay for this gigantic personal effort confirms
his adherence to the community. War has always been a collective business,
having as its goal the conservation of the people and the State, the increase
of their power, of their space, and of their life regions. Herein lies the
social and national sense of war.”100
His exaltation of this warlike spirit, combined with numerous
references to Fascist ideas, prompts questions on the place of the “Jewish
question” in Dugin’s thought. As with the other Eurasianist thinkers, this
question is particularly complex because they all combine philo-Semitic
and anti-Semitic arguments. Dugin proposes his own version of that conjunction
in the form of a paradoxical Judaeophobic philo-Zionism. In The Conservative Revolution (1994), Dugin
recognizes that the state of Israel has realized a kind of Traditionalism: “the
only state that has partly succeeded in putting into practice certain aspects
of the conservative revolution is the state of Israel.”101 This prompted
him to establish close links with some Israeli ultra-nationalist currents.
Thus, since 1998, Dugin has sought to develop contacts with that part
of the Israeli right which upholds the belief that all Jews must live in
Israel. This militant Zionism agrees with him because it is in accordance with
the principle of ethno-pluralism: all peoples should live in peace, but “at
home.” The Evraziia movement is linked with two
radical Zionist groups, Vladimir Boukharsky’s MAOF
Analytical Group and Be’ad Artzeinu,
controlled by Rabbi Avram Shmulevich. These two
groups, situated to the right of the right-wing Israeli party Likhud, are led by two former Soviet citizens of Jewish
origin who emigrated to Israel and are now com-mitted to politicizing the
Israeli Russians. Both of them participated in the founding convention of Evraziia and occupy important positions in the party
hierarchy.102 The web site of the International Eurasianist Movement also
mentions a link with Avigdor Eskin, a former Soviet Jew who took refuge in
Israel and is now fighting the “liberal oligarchy” which he says is running the
country.103 Some radical currents of Judaism (most often Zionist, but also
Hasidic and mystical) are also represented in Evraziia
by Rabbis still living in Russia, for example Adol’f Shaevich. They are all united by the idea that Jewish
tradition, like Orthodoxy and Islam, is a target of unceasing attacks by
secularization, a kind of religious globalization: only the unification of the
traditionalists of all religions will allow for the development of strategies
of resistance.104
Dugin’s objective of an alliance with Israel derives from the idea of a
distinction between “good” and “bad” Judaism, which had already been developed
by the first Eurasianists, in particular in Iakov Bromberg’s texts on the
Jewish question. Dugin borrows from Bromberg the distinction between a Eurasian
and an Atlanticist Jewishness. For Bromberg, the goal was to involve the Jews
of the Russian Empire in the construction of Eurasia, and to invite them to
cultivate their specificities without trying to assimilate to the Russians.
However, he belittled the West European Jews whom he saw as bearers of
political and economic modernity, of capitalism and communism, and as being
excessively assimilated to the Romano-Germanic world.
In Dugin’s texts, the distinction is different: the “good” Jews are the
citizens of Israel, as well as those who choose to leave for Israel, because
this act signals their awareness of their irreducible Jewish specificity. The
“bad” Jews are those who continue to live in the diaspora and try to be
assimilated by the surrounding cultures, be it in the Atlanticist or the
post-Soviet world. Thus, unlike the original Eurasianists, Dugin does not
attempt to attract the East European Jews, whom he presents as historical
enemies of Russian nationalism. Dugin thus demonstrates a complex philo-Zionism combined with anti-Semitic statements,
another combination typical of a part of the Western New Right. While he
regularly criticizes the vulgar anti-Semitism espoused by most currents of
Russian nationalism, he does expound a more sophisticated and euphemized
version of anti-Semitism, centered on more subtle religious and philosophical
arguments. For example, he disagrees with René Guénon,
who considered the Kabbala to be an authentic esotericism: for Dugin, the sense
of the universal, an indispensable
element of any real Traditionalism, is absent from the Kabbala, which, like the
Talmud, is founded on the Jewish ethnic consciousness.105 He also argues that
Traditionalism views history as cyclical, whereas Judaism, because of its
pessimism, regards it as linear.106 For Dugin, the idea of God’s incarnation as
a man fundamentally changed the metaphysical cosmogony of Christianity. Thus,
“from the point of view of Orthodox esotericism, the counter-initiation is,
without doubt, Judaism.”107 Dugin then considers the term “Judeo-Christianity”
to be an incorrect formula, in particular for Orthodoxy, which he argues is
even more distant from Judaism than Catholicism is.108
This argument illustrates Dugin’s version of anti-Semitism. He attempts
to efface the common historical roots that link Judaism to the two other
monotheistic religions, and accuses the Jewish world of having created a
biological conception of itself. This inversion, a classical feature of
anti-Semitism, is found in many of his texts, where he rejects, but also partly
admires, the Jews’ alleged capacity for conceiving ofthemselves
as a race. Thus, according to Dugin, Israel is the archetypal example of a state
founded on an ethnic or racial principle, born of the Holocaust, of course, but
also having contributed to the creation of this drama to which the Jews fell
victim.
Dugin argues that Zionism and Nazism are an ideological couple, in
which it is difficult to know which caused the other: their polarity is a sign
of their intimate correlation.109
Dugin also repeatedly asserts that the Jews consider themselves to be a
chosen people, which squarely opposes them to Russian Messianism, another
ideology of national exceptionalism.
Another consistent opposition between Judaism and Russianness concerns
the relation to territory. According to Dugin, life in the diaspora has
desacralized in the Jewish mind the territories on which the Jews have lived
for two millenia, and only the long inaccessible land
of Israel has kept its sacred character. Their lack of emotion toward nature
and their theologicalrejection of redemption by the
earth, embodied by Jesus in Christianity, reveals their incompatibility with
the Eurasian idea, for which territory is laden with meaning, as well as with
Russian identity, marked by the cult of the nurturing soil. The famous Jewish
nomadism found its most sophisticated expression in the maritime character of
the thallassocracies.110 This is why only the traditionalist Jews returning to
live in Israel can be in agreement with the Eurasianist idea, all others being
(possibly unconscious) bearers of an Atlanticist identity marked by affective
indifference toward soil. In his interpretation of Jewishness, Dugin also employs
the esoteric elements that he develops in his theory of peoples. According to
him, the world is divided into two types of cultures:
Finnish (Judaism and Sunnism) and Aryan (Christianity, Aryan paganism,
Shiism). The parallel is also sexual: Dugin argues that masochism is Jewish,
while sadism is Aryan.111 The fundamental difference between them resides in
their vision of the universe: for the Jews, the cosmos is God’s place of exile,
whereas in Christianity, it is the place willed by God. Dugin’s anti- Semitism
appears in full here: the identity of the Jews, the ‘Finnish’ culture par
excellence, is not just different from that of the Aryans, it is unassimilable
to it. This irreducibility foreshadows, according to him, the coming
metaphysical war between the Aryan and Semitic worlds: “The world of ‘Judaica’
is a world hostile to us. But the sense of Aryan justice and the gravity of our
geopolitical situation require us to comprehend its laws, its rules, its
interests. The Indo- European elite is facing a titanic mission today: to
understand those who are different from us, not only culturally, nationally,
and politically, but also metaphysically. And in this case, to understand does
not mean to forgive, but to vanquish.” 112 This paradoxical combination of a
classic anti-Semitism and a politically committed philo-Zionism
can partly be explained by Dugin’s differentialist
theories.
As we have already noted, Dugin followed the theoretical turn of the
New Right, which moved from a biological view of the differences between
peoples to a primarily cultural one. This fashion for ethno-pluralism,
transferred from the “left” to the “right” in the 1980s, catches on
particularly well in Russia, where it fits into a conception of national
distinctiveness that was already highly ethnicized.
This differentialist neo-racism (in Taguieff ’s formula) and the exaltation of the “right to be
different” are neither a new idea nor a mere import from the West. Throughout
the 19th century, the principal thinkers of “Russian national distinctiveness”
had upheld a culturalist approach, and, unlike their Western colleagues,
accorded only very little importance to racial determinism.113 Slavophile and
Pan-Slavist thought remained under the influence of
Hegel and Herder, and perceived the factual dimension of reality as a hidden
fight between ideas. Thus, for over a century, it has been “normal” for Russian
intellectuals sensitive to the national question to affirm, in Dugin’s phrase,
that “every people advances in History according to its own trajectory,
upholding its own understanding of the world. That is why what is good for some
peoples cannot be applied to others.”114 Dugin, however, deploys an ambiguous
culturalist and biological terminology with regard to this question: he uses
the term ethnos with a positive meaning, seeing it as the primary point of
collective reference (“the whole, the ethnos, according to the Eurasianists, is
higher than the part, the individual”115), but at the same time remains
critical of ethno-nationalism. According to Dugin, the superiority of the
collectivity over the individual must be expressed in the political field as a
“political ethnism.” This differential pluralism
would be based on a corporatist system that would institutionalize intermediate
echelons between the individual and the state. It would reveal Russia’s true
imperial nature. Unlike the Russians, who are “the empire’s constitutive
nation” [imperoobrazuiushchaia natsiia],
the non- Russian peoples may benefit from cultural autonomy, but not from
sovereignty, contrary to what was proclaimed during perestroika.116 No
nationality should be recognized territorially, because “Russians exist as the
only national community within a supranational imperial complex.”117 Dugin
argues that the negotiations between the federal center and the subjects of the
federation started by Boris Yeltsin fostered separatism in the Caucasus and in
the Volga-Ural region. This ethno-centrism should, on the contrary, be
condemned, since stands in the way ofa national
supra-unification of the Eurasian ethnos.
Dugin’s strength is in his capacity for playing with concepts: for
example, he proposes to “meet these identification tendencies of the peoples
and regions of the Federation half-way,” but in a controlled way that would
subject them to the center.118
Whether he bases himself on Eurasianist or New Right arguments, Dugin
condemns nationalism in its ethnic and “chauvinist” variety, which he considers
dangerous and obsolete. The idea of an ethnic miscegenation of peoples
celebrated by Western newspeak appears to him as disastrous as was the theory
of racial purity, because both lead to ethnocide. On the contrary, “the
Eurasianist attitude toward the ethnos remains conservative, based on the
principle of the absolute necessity of protecting each ethnic group from the
prospect of historical disappearance.”
119 This terminology remains paradoxical: not only does Dugin refrain
from rejecting the idea of race, he also seems confused in his understanding of
ethnicity, as he gives it an eminently culturalist and civilizationist
meaning, while at the same time using the terminology of the ethnos, which,
following the Soviet tradition, remains very much tied to nature and even
biology.
This contradiction can be explained by Dugin’s “post-modern” approach:
he says he wishes to restore all the ideas, both religious and ethnic, that
have been thrown out by modernity, which is why he addresses the ethnic
question in both a positive and a negative way: positive when he uses it
against the globalized liberalism which he views as destructive of the
differences between peoples, and negative when he sees ethnic nationalism as
preventing the affirmation of Eurasian unity. Thus Dugin’s main activity, for
several years, has been to speak out for a new interpretation of the idea of
human rights. He is convinced that they constitute, through their claim to
universality, a “new kind of totalitarianism”. He proposes to develop a theory
of the “rights of peoples,” 120 appropriating Third Worldist
discourse as the right has been doing for some time.
According to Dugin, this theory will first be put into practice in
Russia, because, due to its natural federalism, that country advocates
ethno-cultural autonomy in exchange for unitarianism in state affairs. “The
concept of people [narod] must be recognized as the
fundamental legal category, as the main subject of international and civil
law.”121 Individuals will be legally identified by their ethnic, religious or
cultural affiliation. A similar theory had already been proposed a long time
ago by Panarin, who put forward a “civilizational” rather than political
pluralism which he saw as typical of Eurasia. Dugin’s absolutization of the
ethnic collectivity implies a difficult attitude toward the idea of cultural
transfer. As Pierre-André Taguieff has justly and
repeatedly noted, the cult of difference implies a phobia of intermingling: it
celebrates heterogeneity, but fears the mixing of peoples and traditions. Dugin
considers the possibility of miscegenation between populations, or the transfer
of cultural or political elements from one “civilization” to another, as
dangerous. Indeed, he claims he has a “tolerant attitude toward ethnic
miscegenation on the level of the elites, but a cautious attitude on level of
the masses.”122 Here he is once more in tune with the tradition of Soviet
ethnology, which, following the theories of Yulian Bromlei
and Lev Gumilev, had regularly called for the
development of endogamous traditions in order to preserve the “genetic fund” [genofond] of each ethnic entity. Once again, Dugin succeeds
with aplomb in fitting old conceptions based on Russian or Soviet stereotypes
into global intellectual debates. He adapts the Russian case to a more global
theory on the current recomposition of collective
identities under conditions of globalization, anchoring his ideas in
alter-globalization movements, many of which have turned ifferentialism
into one of their main dogmas.
A survey of Dugin’s ideas naturally prompts questions about the extent
to which he is representative, about his strategies, and about the networks
through which his ideas are spread. In many senses, especially regarding his
career, he can be considered to represent the general evolution of the Russian
nationalist milieux over the past two decades. In the first half of the 1990s,
these currents, then presented as “red-andbrown,”
were united in their opposition to the liberal reforms of the Yeltsin era. A
change in their attitude toward the establishment set in during the prime ministership of Primakov, and gained momentum when Putin
came to power, an event which recomposed and narrowed down the political
spectrum. Numerous nationalist figures came to support the authorities while
preserving their political structures, resulting in a kind of vociferous but
fictitious opposition. This was the case with Ziuganov’s
Communist Party, as well as with Zhirinovskii’s LDPR
and the Rodina bloc. Dugin also followed this path from radical opposition to
public professions of loyalty. This is why he likes to classify himself as
being in the “radical center” of the public spectrum:123 radical in his
political and philosophical doctrines, but centrist by virtue of his support
for the current president. He thus embodies one of the main tendencies of the
European radical right, which virulently attempts to differentiate itself from
the centrist discourse of the powers-that-be on an ideological level, while
developing a public strategy for gaining respectability.
Paradoxically, Dugin is also, isolated within the nationalist currents.
He is their only substantial thinker, and his theories inspire numerous public
figures and movements. At the same time, his theoretical position is too
complex for any party to follow him entirely and turn him into its official
thinker. He is also disturbing for the entire camp of Russian nationalism on
several points: he condemns populism, which is central to the strategies of of the main figures: Ziuganov, Zhirinovskii, and Eduard Limonov.
The various nationalist currents do not recognize him as their
ideologist; thus, while he makes numerous Aryanist statements and adopts an
ambiguous anti-Semitism, he is seldom quoted by Aryanist leaders, as he does
not refer to the main neo-pagan reference book, the Book of Vles.
He is also strongly criticized by anti-Semitic circles for condemning theories
of a Jewish plot, rejecting revisionism, and apparently denying the
authenticity of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion. This elitist position,
which he refuses to compromise in exchange for electoral success, is
reminiscent of Alain de Benoist.
However, Dugin cannot be entirely equated with the New Right: his
stance is also informed by Traditionalism and fascism (in the sense outlined
above). Thus he does not go as far as de Benoist on Third Worldism,
and uses racist arguments in a more pronounced way. Dugin’s intellectual
eclecticism assures him a certain degree of success among the young generation,
revealing post-Soviet Russia’s lack of foundations of identity. His occultist
leanings, his exacerbated religious sensibility, his rejection of communist
ideology but not of the Soviet experience, as well as his ahistorical discourse
about Russian grandeur, are his attractive points. Not only do his geopolitical
theories restore to Russia the role of a global superpower, he also modernizes
a certain variety of political fundamentalism, exalts a sense of hierarchy and
war, resurrects the mythical triangle between Germany, Russia and Japan, and
argues that cultures are incommensurable and will unavoidably come into
conflict with one another. His anti-Western feelings are reinforced by the
revival of Pan-Asianism in South-East Asia: all Neo-Eurasianists admire these
countries for having successfully allied economic dynamism to political
authoritarianism, as well as for their general rejection of Western domination
and the “return” to Islamic values in the Muslim states of Indonesia and
Malaysia. Attempts to classify such a doctrine and personality inevitably
remain guesswork: Dugin is above all in search of himself, and his inner quest,
particular the religious one, probably constitutes one of the matrixes of his
political doctrines. Dugin’s strategies are therefore tailored to fit his
personal evolution and the institutional position he hopes to reach. These
strategies are organized along several lines: Dugin understands that the
Eurasianist and geopolitical part of his theories is best suited to be widely
spread in contemporary Russian society. In the same way, the idea of a
unification of the patriotic scene and the creation of a kind of “union of nationalists
without borders,” which the International Eurasianist Movement hopes to become,
strike a chord with numerous Russian political circles. Traditionalism, eschatologism and esotericism are relegated to the
background of his public activities, and are reserved for a more restricted
circle of initiated followers, for example in the framework of the New
University. Dugin’s Eurasianism is probably more
promising than his National Bolshevism or Traditionalism: the term “Eurasia” is
being adopted very extensively in Russia among very varied social and political
milieux, though in a way that strips it of its original theoretical
implications. Dugin thus seems to have succeeded, at leastregarding
this aspectof his thought, in his entryism into
official structures. Indeed, as was observed very justly by the weekly Obshchaia gazeta, “Dugin is no
longer considered to be the preacher of an ideological sect, but rather as anofficially recognized specialist on geopolitical
questions.”124
Dugin thus attempts to pursue a multiform strategy on the fringe of the
classical electoral political spectrum. He develops a geopolitical discourse
aimed at a large public, a concept of Eurasia as the basis for a new ideology
of Russian great power for the Putin establishment, and Traditionalism and
other philosophical and religious doctrines restricted to small but influential
and consciously elitist intellectual circles.
Even if Dugin’s institutional presence, in Russia and abroad, is based
on groupuscules, the influence of his personality and his works must not be
underestimated. In spite of his rhetorical radicalism, which few people are
prepared to follow in all its philosophical and political consequences, Dugin
has become one of the most fashionable thinkers of the day. Using networks that
are difficult to trace, he is disseminating the myth of Russian great power,
accompanied by imperialist, racialist, Aryanist and occultist beliefs that are
expressed in a euphemistic way and whose scope remains unclear, but that cannot
remain without consequences. Dugin’s role as an ideological mediator will
probably be an important point to consider in any long-term historical assessment:
he is one of the few thinkers to engage in a profound renewal of Russian
nationalist doctrines, which had been repetitive in their Slavophilism and
their czarist and/or Soviet nostalgia. His originality lies precisely in his
attempt to create a revolutionary nationalism refreshed by the achievements of
20th century Western thought, fully accepting the political role these ideas
played between the two world wars. Therefore, in his opposition to American
globalization, Dugin unintentionally contributes to the internationalization of
identity discourse and to the uniformization of those theories that attempt to
resist globalization. He illustrates that, although aiming for universality,
these doctrines are still largely elaborated in the West. This is a paradoxical
destiny for a Russian nationalist, whose selfdefined
and conscious “mission” is to anchor a profoundly Western intellectual heritage
in Russia, and to use it to enrich his fellow citizens.
Finally Der Spiegel reported on 08/25/2008, how Alexander Dugin had set
up camp in South Ossetia during the recent war. Thirty
army tents housed his 200 attendees undergoing paramilitary training.
1. For
details about his publications , see:Andreas Umland, “Kulturhegemoniale Strategien der
russischen extremen Rechten: Die Verbindung von faschistischer ideologie und metapolitischer Taktik im Neoeurasismus
des Aleksandr Dugin,” Österreichische Zeitschrift für Politikwissenschaft, vol.
33, no. 2/2004, pp. 437-454.
2. Viacheslav Likhachev, Natsizm v Rossii, Moscow: Panorama, 2002, p. 103.
3. The title of this show is not neutral. It refers to a famous
collection of articles from 1909 called Vekhi,
considered a manifesto against the ideology of the radical intelligentsia. The
authors of Vekhi argued for the primacy of the
spiritual and appealed to the revolutionary intelligentsia to recognize the
spiritual source of human life: to them, only concrete idealism, manifested in
Russian in the form of religious philosophy, allows to objectivate traditional
mysticism and to fuse knowledge and faith.
4. All his publications are available on the web. His two web sites, Arctogaia (www.arcto.ru) and Evraziia
(www.evrazia.org) also include links to a nationalist network that includes web
sites such as Novoe soprotivlenie
(New Resistance), as well as to web-based magazines such as Lenin.
5. The Ways of the Absolute (Puti absoliuta),
written in 1989 and published in 1991, The Conservative Revolution (Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
1994), Goals and Tasks of our Revolution (Tseli i zadachi nashei
revoliutsii, 1995), Templars of the Proletariat
(Tampliery proletariata, 1997), The Philosophy of
Traditionalism (Filosofiia traditsionalizma)
and The Evolution of the Paradigmatic Foundations of Science (Evoliuciia paradigmal’nykh osnovanii nauki, 2002), The
Philosophy of Politics (Filosofiia politiki) and The Philosophy of War (Filosofiia
voiny, 2004).
6. The Metaphysics of the Gospel: Orthodox Esotericism (Metafizika Blagoi Vesti (Pravoslavnyi ezoterizm), 1996)
and The End of the World. Eschatology and Tradition (Konets
sveta: Eskhatologiia i tradiciia, 1997).
7. The Mysteries of Eurasia (Misterii Evrazii) and The Hyperborean (Giperboreec,
1991), The Hyperborean Theory (1993).
8. Conspirology (Konspirologiia,
1992, republished in 2005), The Foundations of Geopolitics (Osnovy
geopolitiki, 1996, four re-editions), Our Way.
Strategic Prospects for the Development of Russia in the 21st Century (Nash
put’. Strategicheskie perspektivy
razvitiia Rossii v XXI veke, 1998), The Russian Thing. Essays in National
Philosophy (Russkaia veshch’.
Ocherki natsional’noi filosofii, 2001), The Foundations of Eurasianism
(Osnovy evraziistva), The
Eurasianist Path (Evraziiskii put’) and The Eurasian
Path as National Idea (Evraziiskii put’ kak natsional’naia ideia, 2002).
9. Markus Mathyl, “The National-Bolshevik
Party and Arctogaia: Two Neo-fascist Groupuscules in
the Post-Soviet Political Space,” Patterns of Prejudice, vol. 36, no. 3/2003,
pp. 62–76.
10. Stephen Shenfield, Russian Fascism. Traditions, tendencies,
movements, London: M. E. Sharpe, 2001, p. 194.
11. Eduard Limonov, Moya politicheskaia biografiia, St. Petersburg: Amfora,
2002, p. 64.
12. Andrei Tsygankov, “Hard-Line Eurasianism
and Russia’s contending geopolitical perspectives,” East European Quaterly, no. 3, 1998, pp. 315–334.
13. Osnovy geopolitiki:
Geopoliticheskoe budushchee
Rossii, Moscow: Arktogeya,
1997. On this book, see J.B. Dunlop, “Aleksandr Dugin’s ‘Neo-Eurasian’ Textbook
and Dmitrii Trenin’s Ambivalent Response,” Harvard
Ukrainian Studies, vol. xxv, no. 1-2/2001, pp. 91–127.
14. Aleksandr Dugin, “Evraziiskaia platforma,” Zavtra, 21 January
2000.
15.Wayne Allensworth, The Russia Question: Nationalism, Modernization,
and Post- Communist Russia, Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1998, and “The
Eurasian Project: Russia-3, Dugin and Putin’s Kremlin,” paper presented at the
National Convention of the American Association for the Advancement of Slavic
Studies, Salt Lake City, 4-6 November 2005.
16. For further details on Dugin’s connections with military circles,
see: Dunlop, op. cit., pp. 94, 102.
17.
Françoise Thom, “Eurasisme et néoeurasisme,“ Commentaires, no. 66/1994, p. 304.
18. “Evraziistvo: ot
filosofii k politike,”
Dugin’s paper at the founding congress of the Evraziia
movement, 21 April 2001.
19. “My—partiia natsional’noi
idei,” Dugin’s paper at the conference preparing the
transformation of Evraziia from a movement into a
political party, 1 March 2002.
20. An economist by training, Glaz’ev was
known since the collapse of the Soviet Union as a partisan of economic reforms.
In 1991, he was named vice-minister (and, in December 1992, minister) of
foreign economic relations in Egor Gaidar’s government. He resigned after the
October 1993 events, when he refused to support Boris Yeltsin in his struggle
against the White House. Between 1993 and 1995, he was a Duma deputy, chairing
the parliament’s committee on economic policies. Between 1995 and 1999, he
worked at the Federation Council and moved closer to Aleksandr Lebed’. During
these years, Glaz’ev changed his mind on his liberal
economic principles and moved closer to the Communists. Today he is an
interventionist and statist in economic matters, although he doesn’t advocate a
return to the Soviet model. In 1999, he was elected deputy on the CPRF list.Within Rodina, Glaz’ev
embodied the left wing. In spite of his hasty departure from the electoral
block, he succeeded in standing as candidate in the presidential elections of
March 2004 and garnered 4.1% of the votes.
21. Dunlop, op. cit., p. 104.
22. “Partiia Evraziia
vykhodit iz bloka Glaz’eva,” Km.Ru, 19 September 2003,
http://www.km.ru/news/view.asp?id=7D D7770F40434412B24FDB116 DB19000.
23. http://glazev.evrazia.org/news/190903- 1.html.
24. Aleksandr Barkashov’s Russian National
Unity (RNU) was one of the first groups to emerge after Pamiat’
split up. Barkashov, who rejects the Orthodox and
czarist nostalgia of Pamiat’ leaders, founded his own
movement as well as the party newspaper Russkii poriadok. The RNU borrowed a significant part of its
symbols from Nazism: the swastika, the Roman salute, paramilitary clothes, and
parts of the NSDAP’s program, including a mixed economyand
eugenic theories. The RNU contends that the USSR implemented a program of
racial miscegenation between Slavs and non- Aryan peoples in order to make the
Slavs disappear. The RNU differed from numerous others post-Soviet nationalist
groups in its racialist definition of the Russian nation. The movement imploded
in 2000 and is now split into numerous small groups.
25. The main exception was Dmitrii Riurikov,
one of Boris Yeltsin’s counselors on international politics. In 2001, he became
a member of the central board of Evraziia while he
was Russia’s ambassador to Uzbekistan (he was later transferred to Denmark).
26. In Russian it is impossible to distinguish between ‘Eurasian’ and
‘Eurasianist’ (evraziiskii chelovek).
27. Andreas Umland, “Toward an Uncivil Society? Contextualizing the
Recent Decline of Extremely Right-Wing Parties in Russia,”Weatherhead
Center for International Affairs Working Paper No. 02-03, 2002.
28. http://evrazia.org/modules.php?name =News&file=article&sid=1508.
29. He also republished Iakov Bromberg’s Evrei
i Evraziia and E.
Khara-Davan’s Rus’ mongol’skaia
in 2002.
30. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 97.
31. “Evraziisky triumf,”
in: P. Savitsky, Kontinent Evraziia,
Moscow: Agraf, 1997, p. 434.
32. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 159.
33. Leontyev stood for a far-reaching turn in
Russian thought. He argued that Russians are not really Slavs but above all a
people mixed with Turkic groups. In an ambiguous manner, he anticipated the
“turn to the East” of the later Eurasianists: he abandoned the linguistic
argument about Slavic identity and, for example, acknowledged that he preferred
the Greeks to the other Slavs in the religious realm. Leontyev
was the first to understand the potential of the “Turanian
argument” to help Russia assert her identity against Europe.
34. Misterii Evrazii,
p. 19.
35. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 247.
36. However, Dugin accepts the separatism of those areas that he
considers non-Russian (he proposes to return the Kuril Islands to Japan and
Kaliningrad to Germany) provided they remain under the control of allies of
Eurasia and Continentalism.
37. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 341.
38. He also wishes to return Ukraine into the Russian sphere of
influence and to divide it in accordance with what he calls the ethnocultural
realities of the country. For further details, see: Dunlop, op. cit., pp.
109–112.
39. “Evraziiskii otvet
na vyzovy globalizacii,” Osnovy evraziistva, p. 541–563.
40. Nash put’, p. 47.
41. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 261.
42. Konspirologiia, also online at
www.arctogaia. com/public/consp.
43. Evraziia prevyshe
vsego, p. 4.
44. Osnovy evraziistva,
p. 762.
45. See Mark Sedgwick, Against the Modern World. Traditionalism and the
Secret Intellectual History of the Twentieth Century, Oxford/New York: Oxford
University Press, 2004.
46.
Introduction générale à l’étude des doctrines hindoues in 1921, Le
théosophisme, histoire d’une pseudo-religion in 1921, L’erreur spirite in 1923,
Orient et Occident in 1924, La crise du monde moderne in 1927.
47. Tampliery proletariata, p. 128.
48. Filosofiia traditsionalizma,
p. 11.
49. Milyi Angel, no. 1/1991, online at
www.angel.com.ru.
50. Filosofiia traditsionalizma,
p. 11.
51. Puti absoliuta, republished in Absoliutnaia rodina (Moscow,
1999), p. 174.
52. Metafizika blagoi
vesti, republished in Absoliutnaia
rodina, p. 510.
53. Puti absoliuta, p. 152–153.
54. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 255.
55. See for example his papers given at the 6th World Russian People’s
Council in Osnovy evraziistva,
p. 704–715.
56. The Old Believers are a current of Orthodoxy born after the Schism
[Raskol], that is the separation, in the 17th
century, of a significant portion of the Orthodox population from the official
Russian church. They refused Patriarch Nikon’sreforms
of the Orthodox ritual and liturgy. They were repeatedly persecuted in czarist
times and were at the origin of numerous religious and social revolts against
the central authorities. Dugin sees himself as one of the so-called “united
believers” who follow the Old Believers’ rituals while recognizing the
authority of the Patriarch. Other Old Believers, who have refused to
acknowledge the Patriarchate in exchange for tolerance of their specific
practice of worship, are in a minority today.
57. Russkaia veshch,
vol .1, p. 569.
58. Milyi Angel, no. 3/1996.
59. Milyi Angel, no. 2/1996.
60. see his Evoliuciia paradigmal’nykh
osnovanii nauki, his
candidate of sciences thesis defended in 2000 at Rostov-on-Don University.
61. Evoliuciia..., p. 66.
62. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 12.
63. Puti absoliuta, p. 5.
64. Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
p. 85–97.
65. Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
p. 99.
66. Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
p. 4–5.
67.
See Pierre-André Taguieff, Sur la Nouvelle droite. Jalons d’une analyse
critique, p. 148–296.
68. In Den’ nos. 2, 22, 34 and 37/1992 and 3/1993.
69. “I have a lot of reservations about a ‘Eurasian’ construction,
which seems to me to be mainly phantasmagorical” (Taguieff,
p. 311).
70. Taguieff, p. 254–265.
71. Konservativnaja revoliutsiia,
p. 131–136.
72. Taguieff, p. 259.
73. Filosofiia traditsionalizma,
p. 135–191.
74. See for example the chapter “Races, Runes, and Worships” in Misterii Evrazii, p. 673–736 or
Nash put’, p. 21.
75. The Slavophile philosopher A. Khomyakov
(1804–1860) divided the world into two philosophical principles: Iranian and
Cushite. He borrowed this idea from Friedrich Schlegel’s philosophy of history.
For more
information, see Laruelle M., Mythe aryen et rêve impérial dans la Russie du
XIXe siècle, Paris: CNRS-Éditions, 2005.
76. Giperboreiskaia teoriia,
p. 5.
77. Filosofiia traditsionalizma,
p. 176.
78. Misterii Evrazii,
republished in Absoliutnaia rodina,
p. 575.
79. Metafizika blagoi
vesti, p. 482.
80. Osnovy geopolitiki,
p. 190.
81. Misterii Evrazii,
p. 78.
82. Misterii Evrazii,
p. 26.
83. Misterii Evrazii,
p. 2.
84. For example in Erwägen Wissen Ethik, vol. 15, no. 3/2004 between Roger Griffin, Andreas
Umland, and A. James Gregor.
85. Osnovy evraziistva,
p. 638–656.
86. Russkaia veshch,
vol. 1, ch. 2: “The social idea,” pp. 251–500.
87. Programma politicheskoi
partii “Evraziia”. Materialy uchreditel’nogo s”ezda. Moscow: Arktogeya, 2002,
p. 112, and Osnovy evraziistva,
p. 579–588.
88. Osnovy evraziistva,
p. 585.
89. Mikhail Agursky, Ideologiia
natsional-bol’shevizma, Paris: YMCA-Press, 1980. See
also: Erik van Ree, “The Concept of National Bolshevism: An Interpretative
Essay,” Journal of Political Ideologies, no. 3/2001, pp. 289–307, and D. Shlapentokh, “Bolshevism, Nationalism and Statism: Soviet
Ideology in Formation,” Cahiers du monde russe, no. 4/1996, pp. 429–466.
90. Karl Popper, The Open Society and its Enemies, London, 1945.
91. Tampliery proletariata, p. 8.
92. Tampliery proletariata, p. 26.
93. Tampliery proletariata, p. 25.
94. Tampliery proletariata, p. 188.
95. Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
p. 54.
96. Filosofiia traditsionalizma,
p. 353.
97. Elementy no. 6/1995, p. 18.
98. Russkaia veshch,
vol. 1, p. 217.
99. Evraziia prevyshe
vsego, p. 5.
100. Filosofiia voyny,
back cover.
101. Konservativnaia revoliutsiia,
p. 27.
102. Sedgwick, p. 237–240.
103.
http://avigdor-eskin.com/index.shtml.
104. Osnovy
evraziistva, p. 600.
105. Puti absoliuta,
p. 175.
106. Milyi angel, no. 3/1996,
www.angel.com.ru.
107. Konets sveta,
p. 348.
108. Metafizika blagoy
vesti, p. 248.
109. See the chapter “Vojna narodov” in Russkaia veshch.
110. “Apokalipsis stikhii,”
Elementy, no. 8/1997, p. 56.
111. “Ad-Marginem. Sacher-Masoch,”
Elementy, no. 6/1995, p. 64.
112.
Konservativnaia revoliutsiia, p. 248.
113.
See for example, M. Laruelle, “Regards sur la réception du racialisme allemand
chez les panslavistes et les eurasistes russes,” in: C. Trautmann-Waller (ed.),
L’Allemagne des linguistes russes. Revue germanique internationale, Paris,
CNRSEditions, no. 3, 2006, pp. 145–156.
114.
Nash put’, p. 3.
115.
Programma politicheskoi partii “Evraziia,” p. 25.
116.
Evraziiskii vzglyad, p. 62.
117.
Osnovy geopolitiki, p. 251.
118.
Osnovy geopolitiki, p. 593.
119.
Nash put’, p.135.
120.
Evraziia prevyshe vsego, p. 22.
121.
Nash put’, p. 124.
122.
Evraziia prevyshe vsego, p. 19.
123.
Evraziia prevyshe vsego, p. 4.
124.
A. Maksimov., O. Karabaagi, “Oni v svoikh koridorakh,“ in: Obshchaia gazeta, 31
May 2001.
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