The Mujik and the New Regime in Russia

THE demand of the revolutionists in Russia for universal suffrage is a feature of the crisis through which Russia is now passing, the significance of which cannot be fully appreciated without understanding what the condition of the “mujik” is, constituting as he does eighty per cent or more of the population of the Empire. The importance of this great factor of the population has been, of course, appreciated in every revolutionary movement which Russia has seen, but heretofore the leaders have been unable to interest any considerable proportion of the common people in their movement. The present disaffection of the people, however, originating among the students of the universities, became so demonstrative that the authorities deemed it best to close those institutions, thereby scattering the disaffected students over the entire empire, to disseminate among the peasantry their revolutionary propaganda.

The word mujik, a mere colloquial name applied to the common people, means literally an inferior man. More properly and officially the common people of Russia are designated as “krestianin” or peasant, and “mestianin” or burgher, according to the class to which they belong; but they are so intimately associated with one another that the broad term of mujik is a more convenient appellation and has been generally adopted in speaking of the common people. The purpose of the present article is briefly to describe the mujik in the light of his capacity to exercise the right of suffrage.

All Russia lies in latitude north of New York, and most of the Empire is more northerly than Halifax, St. Petersburg at sixty degrees being farther north than any considerable settlement on the east coast of our continent, and on the same parallel with the southern extremity of Greenland. The monotony of the vast and almost unbroken plain which constitutes nearly the whole of European Russia, in which the forests partake of the unvaried character of the landscape, being limited to some three or four species of trees; the intense and prolonged cold of winter, with its long nights, together with the difficulty of profitable agricultural effort in the greater part of the Empire, doubtless has its effect upon the nature of the peasantry, engendering that sadness which is a prominent characteristic of the mujik, finding its expression in the national music and poetry.

A condition of general unthrift among the peasants is one of the most striking features of Russian country life. Every stranger passing the frontier between that country and Germany is struck by the marked change in this respect which he encounters up to the very boundary line, and which the geographical position does not at all account for. There is no gradual change in the appearance of the face of the country or the people from comparative prosperity to extreme poverty, but a sudden difference in the conditions, marked by totally dissimilar methods of cultivation, dwellings, and habits of thrift. Everything on the German side indicates careful cultivation and industry, while, on the Russian side, the fields show bad tillage and neglect, squalid houses, inferior and uncared-for stock, and tools and implements lying in the fields exposed to the weather.

Whatever may be the theories of economists regarding this condition of unthrift the outside observer can hardly fail to find at least one explanation in the system of tenure under which the peasant holds his lands.

The land of the peasantry is not generally owned by them individually, except in certain districts of the Baltic provinces, of Little Russia and of Poland, but is held in communities, in which each taxpaying individual, or “soul,” has a share, and for the taxes of which he is responsible. The taxes due to the government are assessed upon the number of “souls” in the commune, and upon the same basis is allotted to it a certain quantity of land. This land was sold, not given, to the communes upon the emancipation of the serfs, and amortization of the debt thus created was provided for by taxation of the communes. This debt is still unextinguished and the taxation is still in operation. For these taxes the commune is held strictly and rigidly responsible, but it is permitted to collect the amount from its individual members as it may see fit, and so long as the taxes are paid, to manage its own affairs. The commune therefore enjoys a considerable degree of self-government. It elects the officers of its governing body, called the “Mir,” by popular vote, and regulates its own finances and matters of local administration without interference from the central government. To each “soul” is allotted, by the Mir, a certain proportion of land of three separate sorts, namely, cultivable, pasture, and marsh or meadow, according to his ability to work the land productively in the interest of tax payments. Thus a man who has a horse is given more land than he who has not, while one who has able-bodied children, sons or daughters, is given more than the man who has no one to help him in his cultivation, the incapacitated being given nothing, but being supported by the community. In these allotments ownership of the land does not pass to the individual; he is simply given the usufruct for a certain term, the duration of which varies in different communes from one year to ten or even more,— from three to five being the most usual, with a general tendency to increase the length of the period. In this allotment the individual has no option; he may argue his case before the board of officers of the Mir, but he must, perforce, consent to accept the allotment of land made him, together with the share of taxes devolving thereon. In general, it is said that these apportionments are made in a spirit of equitable fairness, but that abuses do exist is not surprising. It occasionally happens, for instance, that a peasant having a reputation for experience at some trade which brings him custom from the neighboring large proprietors, or from other points outside the limits of the commune, by means of which he earns money in excess of what his labor in the fields could produce, has fastened on him an excessive proportion of communal land and consequent taxes.

While in the more productive districts, especially in the black-earth belt, the effort on the part of the individual is to secure as much land as possible, in the northern and other unproductive districts the peasant tries to shirk his communal responsibilities by presenting reasons why he should be allotted the minimum of land.

With the growth of the population in the richer agricultural districts the allotments of land are becoming appreciably smaller, while by emigration to Siberia or elsewhere those in the less productive regions, and the consequent pro rata tax, are increasing, — a condition which must sooner or later require a readjustment of the division of the agricultural lands of the Empire.

Not infrequently the peasant seeks employment in the cities, either for the entire year, or, what is still more common, for the winter months only. This may happen on account of one or more of several causes.

Formerly the mujik bound himself to service, agricultural or military, for a period of one year, and once each year he was free to change his master. With the abolition of the feudal system and the overthrow of the Tartar domination under Ivan III, grandfather of The Terrible, the forces of the Kniazes and their subordinate boyars became the obligatory defenders of the Tsar and of the state. Experience showed that the working man employed this privilege to evade military service, and under Feodor, son of Ivan the Terrible, Boris Godonoff in 1593 promulgated a regulation forbidding this annual change of masters, thereby binding the peasant to the soil. This was the beginning of the real serfdom. The very word for serf, Krieposnoi, means bound to the soil.

The transition from permanent attachment to the soil to personal bondage to the master was an easy one, so that at the time of the emancipation by the Emperor Alexander II, in 1861, the serf had become as much a chattel of the proprietor as was his horse. The usual method for providing for the cultivation of the soil was for the proprietor to assign to the serf a portion of land for his own cultivation and sustenance, and in return to exact of him three days’ service each week in the cultivation of the seignorial lands, or in such other labor as might be required. The serf usually might, however, by the annual payment of a small sum, obtain the consent of the master to absent himself from the estates and seek employment in the towns or wherever else he could benefit his condition; and occasionally a proprietor might boast the ownership of a serf who, by engaging in manufacture or trade, had amassed a large property, — perhaps exacting proportionate tribute for the serf’s absence from the land. Still, so cheaply was labor held that the master who had not at least one hundred serfs was held to be poor, while many of the great landlords numbered their serfs by the thousand, the Sheremétieff family alone owning one hundred thousand.

Upon the emancipation certain lands were allotted to the former serfs to be held by them forever, but not individually nor gratuitously. The land was assigned to them, as previously explained, in communities for their common benefit, and an annual tax imposed on each commune for the gradual amortization of its value, the commune, as a body, being held for the payment of the tax, and itself having power to enforce payment from its individual members. In this it is aided by the state, which upon request undertakes to return absent members of the commune who may be in default, for until the final amortization the peasant can free himself from his communal obligations only by paying the full remaining share of his portion of debt. It is a common and deep-rooted belief among the peasants that during the condition of serfdom, while they belonged to their masters the land belonged to them, and that on the emancipation they were cheated out of their just rights by a corrupt bureaucracy which is now reaping the benefit of the amortization. Thus they regard this tax as the oppression, not of the Tsar, but of his arrogant officials, against whom, however, they are powerless to contend.

It is evident, therefore, that although the peasant is freed from bondage to the master, he still remains bound to the land until this debt is finally amortized. But, however, he still possesses the right to absent himself, provided he pays to the commune his annual quota of its tax.

It is thus that the industrial classes are recruited. The peasant goes to the town to take up some trade, leaving some member of his family, not infrequently his wife, to cultivate his allotment of land, perhaps returning at harvest time, or even for the whole season of the “ strada ” or summer’s work in the fields. He may be sent by the head of the family to which he belongs to earn money to assist in paying the joint share of their communal taxes, his allotment of land being, if the absence is during the summer season, operated by the other members of the family; or he may, upon his own account, desire to add a little to his income; or even, finding his land unprofitable, he may abandon its cultivation to seek a livelihood in the city; but whatever may be the cause of his absence from the commune, he does not escape his responsibility for the taxes. For, while the central government permits the Mir to collect the taxes from the individual,it also assists it in so doing by keeping track of him, and by returning him to the commune, in case of his failure to remit his share, and even by inflicting punishment, when the resources of the Mir in that respect fail to compel him. Still further, the complaint of the head of a family to the Mir that an absent member is not remitting his share of the taxes of the family allotment may cause the delinquent’s arrest and return to his commune.

Individuals who misbehave themselves in the city may also be sent back to their commune by administrative process. To render possible this control of the individual requires a very careful system of enregistration. Thus, on taking up a new habitation, every sojourner and inhabitant in a city must be duly inscribed in the books of his police district, and for such enregistration the proprietor of the house is held accountable. As it not infrequently happens that the peasant, or mujik, knows no other than his baptismal name and that of his father, and sometimes not even the latter, the difficulty of keeping track of individuals can be imagined. Ivan Ivanovitch (John, son of John), of such a commune, may be, and not infrequently is, the sole designation he can give himself, and perhaps even he can only say that he is John, son of a soldier. But the name of the commune to which he belongs is inscribed on his passport when issued to him, and without this document he is not permitted to remain in any city; nor, indeed, is it easy for him to find any abiding place at all.

Thus the industrial class, including a large proportion of the people of the towns, not belonging to the privileged classes, is intimately associated with, indeed belongs to, the agricultural peasantry. But further, the Mir is obliged to take care of the mujik. It can, while he is able to labor, force him to pay his share of the taxes; but if he becomes incapacitated, it must at least keep him from starvation. The government of the village and of the commune is absolutely democratic, all questions being settled by vote of the male members in village meeting, after full discussion, which is carried on in groups and in which the opinions of the older and more intelligent members usually prevail. In this way the starosta, or elder, of the commune and its other officers are elected, and through these officials such affairs as it may have with the central government are transacted. These chiefly relate to the payment by the commune of its annual taxes, including the amortization of the land, to the delivery to the authorities of malefactors, and to such other matters as may affect the business of the central government itself; for as regards the internal government of the commune and village it does not attempt to interfere. The peasant cannot therefore be said to be entirely ignorant of the principles of popular government.

The “izba” or log house of the peasant, consisting usually of three rooms, has been constructed by himself or by one of his progenitors with his own hands, for every mujik is a natural born carpenter of extraordinary dexterity with the broadaxe, performing with this single tool a variety of operations for which the western carpenter would require quite an extensive kit. It is built of logs which he has cut himself in the neighboring forest— often without seeking the permission of the proprietor to whose domain it belongs — and which he hews and mortises together, calking the interstices with dried moss. The “petch,” or stove, constructed of brick and tiles, is built so that one half of it is in the kitchen and living room, and the other half in the sleeping apartment. The beds consist of shelves placed against the petch for warmth, and usually swarm with vermin. The third apartment of the izba is simply a storehouse for tools and implements.

The izba does not stand in the middle of his little farm, but in the single village street; and this building, with its small surrounding lot, belongs to the mujik or his family in fee; but the productive land lies sometimes versts away from the village, and consists of a long narrow strip, or perhaps several of such strips, apportioned out with a view to give to each “lot” an equal share of the best and of the poorest soil.

The inevitable result is that the mujik, feeling that at the end of a period more or less brief his allotment will be subject to a redistribution, in which, if he has improved it by careful cultivation, expending upon it time and money with an eye to the future, the greater part of it will probably be taken from him, puts into his land only such cultivation as will give him, for the existing season, the best returns, without expending upon it capital or labor of which he is not to enjoy the full fruits. Hence, he ploughs but the top of his soil, not only to save labor, but that his manure may be consumed by his own crop and not by a future one. He has no attachment to the soil to which he belongs, but which does not belong to him, and he is devoid of that self-reliant independence which characterizes the agricultural classes of other countries. If we add to this the fatalistic view which the mujik takes of every event in life, whether of good or evil fortune, we have a combination of temperament and surroundings well calculated to develop unthrift.

While the affairs which relate only to the commune itself are settled by it, those matters which pertain to communes collectively in their relations to one another are settled by the Volost, which has jurisdiction over several communes, and the officials of which are elected, except the police, who are appointed by the central government; and here self-government among the peasants ceases.

There is, however, a further assembly, or Zemstvo (from “Zemlia,” land), which has an advisory rather than an administrative character, although certain executive functions are delegated to it, such as local posts in those districts in which the sparsity of inhabitants makes it impracticable for the central government to establish national post routes. The delegates to these land assemblies, or Zemstvos, are chosen by popular vote from among the landed nobility, the priesthood, or the peasants themselves. The peasantry have, however, shown but little interest in the election of these delegates, and the Zemstvos do not appear to have accomplished the results which were hoped from them upon their creation soon after the emancipation.

The dress of the peasant consists of a shirt, generally of red cotton more or less ornamented by embroidery, which is worn belted outside of the loose trousers, and, for the more prosperous, a pair of high boots into which the trousers are tucked. The poorer mujiks are content to wind rags about their feet, and wear over them shoes made of plaited birch bark. Over all is worn, in winter, a caftan of sheepskin, the wool inside, the outside being the leather of the pelt. From time to time the caftan is subjected to a baking process to free it from vermin; for while the mujik religiously bathes himself every Saturday, observes the greatest care in washing his hands before touching food with them, and is neat about the preparation of his food, he is indifferent to other trifles.

The village bath or sweatbox, for it is nothing else, is a hovel heated by a brick stove, or by hot stones, on which water is dashed to make the necessary vapor to encourage perspiration, and on finishing this sweating process the mujik plunges himself into the snow, or has cold water dashed upon him. This bath is a necessary part of the mujik’s life, for, until he has taken it, the Church does not regard him as fit to attend the service of communion on Sunday.

The greater part of the agricultural peasantry in Russia enjoys the luxury of meat only upon holidays, subsisting for the rest of the time upon black bread made of rye flour, slightly fermented previous to baking, whole buckwheat baked in an earthenware pot, resembling in its preparation the baked beans of New England, and cabbage soup, or “stche,” to which, if he is fortunate,the mujik adds a little fish or meat in its preparation; and upon this frugal fare the peasant performs the arduous labors of the strada, or agricultural season, as well as those indoor occupations which occupy him during the winter.

During the season of the strada, every man and woman who can handle a hoe, rake, or scythe, or guide a plough, and every child except the youngest, is busy through nearly all the long hours of daylight in the cultivation of the soil, and those of the commune who have gone to the towns return to their villages for labor in the fields.

During the winter, on the contrary, many of the peasantry resort to the cities and towns to find work in the factories, those who remain at home engaging in a variety of minor industries, including home weaving, manufacture of small articles of bone and horn, toy-making, metal working, and a multitude of other manufactures. In some cases the articles produced are manufactured in the peasant’s own home; in others there is a village workshop where they unite among themselves for the manufacture, under the artel system.

This artel system among the Russian mujiks is one of the most interesting phases of peasant life, illustrating, as it does, the mujik’s capacity for coöperation and combined effort. It pervades every branch of Russian industrial labor except the cultivation of the communal lands, where, strangely enough, it is not resorted to except among some of the sects of the dissenters, or raskolinki. On the other hand, peasants frequently combine in an artel to hire of a landed proprietor a piece of land and cultivate it on the coöperative system. Engage half a dozen peasants to go and perform any piece of labor upon the wage system or by piece work, and before many days the chances are they will have united into an artel and have chosen a starosta, or elder, as foreman, who does little else than direct the work, while all unite in an equal division of compensation.

Bands of traveling artels in various trades go about the country seeking employment, especially in connection with building operations. The fisheries of the great rivers are almost all operated by artels, some of them numbering very many members. In the cities artels of a higher class are formed for furnishing clerical work; and in place of the clearing houses existing between the banks of our cities, the transfer of cash from bank to bank to balance accounts is handed over to an artel, the entire association being responsible for the honesty of the individuals.

The government of these artels, however large or small they may be, and they vary from half a dozen members to thousands, is as democratic in principle as is the government of the commune. Every member has his vote in the framing of rules and regulations as well as in the election of officers. The work performed by them is as good as they can do, and their contracts are rigidly lived up to.

With regard to the division of profits, there is perhaps a tendency to favor the least competent and efficient, a characteristic of the Russian temperament, which is ever inclined to be lenient to weakness of nature, whether it exhibit itself in physical disability, in the yielding to sensual temptation, as drunkenness, or in the commission of crime. The criminal is generally regarded, especially by the mujik, as an unfortunate, and a subject of sympathy rather than of censure.

There is a peculiar gentleness in the Russian nature, whether it be that of the noble or of the peasant, which shows itself in the treatment of animals and of children. True, wife-beating is not uncommon among mujiks, but it is not of an excessively brutal type, and all the songs and traditions of the people show that the woman regards it a part of her necessary lot. Herberstein, the first ambassador from any western state to Russia, narrates an incident which came under his observation. A German, living in Moscow, had married a Russian woman who complained to her liege lord that he did not love her. To his inquiry how he had failed in his affection she replied that he never beat her. Whereupon he commenced the practice and finally killed her.

On the other hand, even when inflamed by intoxication, the mujik rarely becomes pugnacious. His drunkenness takes the form, more ordinarily, of maudlin sentimentality or absolute stupor. While drunkenness is common among the mujiks both in town and country, it is not apt to be so often habitual as has been depicted. On occasions of fêtes, of which, unhappily, there are many in Russia, the holidays in the year numbering over ninety, it is not uncommon for all the male inhabitants in a country village to get drunk, but the habit of daily drunkenness is not common.

Still it must be admitted that it is not rare to find among them those who habitually go upon periodical sprees, lasting several days; while in the larger towns, among the factory operatives, pay-day, fêtes, and the separation from family influence result in a good deal of intemperance. Formerly, in the country villages, the influence of the proprietor of the dram shop, who was generally also a money-lender, tended to increase habits of intemperance among the country people. He would loan money upon almost no security, and especially upon crop prospects, at an exorbitant rate of interest, taking care that the bulk of the money so loaned should be expended in the purchase of vodka. The government is now endeavoring to counteract this by taking the sale of vodka into its own hands, and it is alleged that the results have been most satisfactory in the promotion of temperance.

The daily drink of the mujik, both in town and country, and that upon which he absolutely depends — as does every Russian —is tea. Several times during the day all labor ceases for the tea hour. Kvass also, a thin and sour beer, generally brewed from fermented black bread and water, is a favorite and, indeed, universal beverage. It is probably wholesome and so slightly alcoholic as not to be intoxicating.

While the mujik is extremely devout and deeply imbued with the spirit of reverence, his highly emotional religious belief is strangely mixed with the pagan legends of a previous time. His reverence for the Church, however, does not include a high regard for the priesthood. The village priest depends for his subsistence upon the tithes which he can gather, necessarily meagre, and with difficulty wrung from the poverty of the peasants. Unfortunately but too frequently the priest loses the respect of his flock by drunkenness, while the demands which he makes upon the peasantry for performing the offices of marriage, baptism, and burial, as well as for the ever recurring tithes, which are regarded by the mujiks as extortionate, add to his unpopularity with them. He is satisfied with performing the functions of his office among the peasants, without much regard to their moral or spiritual welfare so long as they observe the outward forms of religious devotion.

Among the many superstitions of the mujik one of the most firmly rooted is his belief in the Domovoi. The Domovoi is the spirit of the house who is believed to inhabit the petch, or stove, from which he emerges at night to work good or evil in the household, as the case may be. If he is conciliated and made content, his influence is generally for good, but he sometimes takes unreasonable and inexplicable umbrage and wreaks vengeance upon the family. Sometimes he is believed to tolerate only some particular color among the household animals, and the peasant carefully avoids offending his prejudices in this regard.

Food must be left for him on certain nights, should he come out and wander about the house, and that food to his liking. If the family moves into a new izba, with mysterious rites and incantations the Domovoi is removed with the fire and ashes from the petch to the new habitation ; and even if the particular house spirit is evilly disposed, the peasant prefers a devil whom he thinks he knows, to running the risk of encountering a new or more malignant one.

The ordinary view of the peasant regarding Divine interference in human affairs, is that, if God only knew his sufferings he would relieve them, but that the priest is indifferent, or by reason of his immorality has no influence with the saints, and so the Almighty is kept in ignorance of his needs, as is the Tsar by the Tchinovicks who surround him. He believes, therefore, that what has been ordained will happen, and that it is useless for him to attempt to change the course of events; hence his lack of forethought for the future.

If some piece of temporary good fortune comes to him, as a gift of money, he accepts it gladly and quickly squanders it, while if misfortune comes, his elastic nature enables him soon to forget and to accept patiently his hard lot in life. It is in this spirit that heretofore he has accepted the obligation imposed upon him by the government to pay for the land which he believes is of right his own. He is convinced that the tax is an unauthorized one, collected by a corrupt bureaucracy for its own profit.

In honesty, the mujik will, on the whole, compare favorably with the peasants of other countries. It is a fact that he inherits certain of the traditions of serfdom when, as the property of the landholder and part of the estate, he believes it his right to take to himself for his own use that which belongs to his master. If, for instance, he were hungry and lacked food, he would not hesitate to take it from his owner. If to-day, in the cultivation of the property of the landholder on the share system, he finds some implement useful, he does not hesitate to appropriate it for the cultivation of that land; but theft of money or valuables in the ordinary sense is rare among the mujik class in town or country.

Referring again to the question of selfreliance, it is a curious fact that the mujik is better satisfied with a gift than the payment of wages earned. The following instance is illustrative of this: In the distribution of the grain sent by the United States to relieve the famine sufferers in 1881, the grain was sent by rail to various stations, whence it was transported by wagon to the actual localities within the famine district. At a certain station on the railway where famine existed the peasants were employed, with their horses and carts, receiving adequate cash compensation therefor. Learning, however, that the grain they were transporting was given away to the peasants at the point to which they were taking it, they applied to the official in charge of the distribution for gifts of grain for themselves. The official replied to their appeal that it was true that grain was given to the peasants of the remote village to relieve their dire necessities, but that they who carried it were paid in money for their labor and the use of their horses and carts, wages sufficient to enable them to purchase not only grain but such other things as were necessary for their comfort and support. After some deliberation, they returned to the official and declined to continue to transport grain unless they received, also, the same gift per capita as the other peasants. The official then proposed to them to give them grain upon condition that they should transport the grain for the remote village as charity to the sufferers. This proposition they readily acquiesced in and thereafter continued to carry supplies, receiving what they regarded as a gift in lieu of wages.

The mujik is usually depicted as not only illiterate and steeped in the deepest ignorance, but as incapable of intelligent reasoning. This is far from being a fair estimate of either his acquirements or his capabilities. It is true that the peasants in the remote districts and often, indeed, in more accessible parts of the Empire, are wholly illiterate, but in the larger towns, where education is easily obtainable, and in not a few country districts, they often get a very fair common school education. It is by no means rare to find the son of a petty tradesman speaking four languages with considerable fluency. However illiterate, and wherever found, he shows considerable acumen in dealing with questions which pertain to the management of matters of which he has a fair understanding. While slow to grasp a new idea, in the ordinary matters of the commune, for instance, he shows no little hardheaded sense. Once convinced of the truth of his point of view it is difficult by arguments to shake his faith. He is emotionally conservative and holds tenaciously to all his beliefs. His conservatism finds expression in the very dissent from the orthodox faith, a religious movement of considerable extent, known as the “raskol,” now divided into many sects. It had its origin in the belief that certain corrections which had been made in the much corrupted church books were heresies and deviations from the faith prescribed by the fathers. The original raskolinki called themselves “old believers” as do those still who adhere to its early beliefs. Once alienated from the established church, the tendency has been to grope for what was the original and therefore the true faith, and hence the many sects of dissenters of which the “Duhkoborski,” who recently emigrated in a body to Canada, is one. In morality, sobriety, temperance, industry, and thrift, the raskolinki generally greatly surpass the orthodox peasants, though it is true that certain sects have admitted as part of their ritual grossly immoral practices. But in superstition they all exceed the orthodox.

The orthodox peasant is as little accustomed to question governmental as religious questions, holding equally to his faith in God and in the Tsar. If he has heretofore submitted to what he regards as the oppression of the bureaucracy, it is because he has seen no way of combating it. Once, however, convince him that he has rights which by exertion he can obtain, and he becomes a fanatic, pressing on with irresistible force to the attainment of his end, as the recent strikes have demonstrated.