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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