Intellectual Life and Literature at Solovki, 1923–1930: The Paris of the Northern Concentration Camps by Andrea Gullotta (review)

O M M O N K N O W L E D G E 1 3 0 attempt to understand political violence in a particular time and place as justifying terrorism always and anywhere, honest biographers have no choice but to try to explain why their subjects made the choices they did. In this context, Alexandrov’s judicious treatment of Savinkov’s argument that, given the political realities of tsarist Russia, violence could be a moral response to evil is especially valuable. The paradox of Savinkov and the other “moral terrorists” discussed in To Break Russia’s Chains is that they justified targeted violence against prominent politicians and influential bureaucrats without rejecting the fifth commandment. According to their reasoning, assassination could be a moral act if the victim was responsible for brutal and unjust policies and if the perpetrator accepted punishment for what was, without question, a sin. Given the reality of tsarist arbitrary rule, the absence of any legal avenues to protest unjust policies, and the terrorists’ belief that inaction meant complicity in a criminal regime, their conclusion that violence and inevitable punishment was the only moral choice is neither incomprehensible nor illogical. Whatever one thinks of Savinkov’s personality and methods, and despite his ultimate failure to achieve his goal, there is something undeniably heroic in his devoting his entire adult life to the struggle against the forces of political tyranny in his homeland. Today, when fantasies of redemptive violence have become a staple of the daily news cycle, Savinkov’s story is particularly relevant. — Anthony Anemone doi 10.1215/0961754X-10333045