It seems now to be a fairly well established fact in science
that at the dawn of the evolution of mankind the individual
had not yet differentiated from the social aggregate. Archaic
communism in the production of food and other necessaries,
as well as in possession and consumption, is now, I imagine,
universally recognized as the primitive form of social life. It
is only during the higher stages of development that private
ownership by individuals comes into existence; and private
property in land was the latest to appear on the historical
scene. The dissolution of the land community in Western
Europe is a fact of comparatively very recent date. In Russia,
where the process of evolution has been less rapid, we see this
primeval institution preserved until to-day.
In Russia we do not find within historical times that tribal
communism which Lewis H. Morgan met with among the
American Indians. The Russian village community of historical
times consists of a number of large families, often, yet
not necessarily, of common ancestry, who possess the soil in
common, but cultivate it by households. The ancient communal
coöperation re-appears sporadically, upon various special occasions,
in the form of the pómoch (help). Some householder
invites his neighbors to help him in a certain work: to mow
his meadow lot, to reap his field, to cut down wood for a
new house he has undertaken to build, etc. This is considered
as a reception tendered by the family to its neighbors,
and different kinds of refreshments are prepared for the occasion.
These constitute the only remuneration for the work
done collectively by the guests. Of course, there is nothing
compulsory in the custom, and no one is bound to answer
the call in case he does not like to do so. On the other
hand, the party benefited is under an obligation to appear
at the call of all those who participated in the pómoch. This
custom, which is now limited for the most part to extraordinary
occasions and is more and more falling into disuse,
apparently played a far more conspicuous part in former days,
when rural settlements were scattered clearings in the midst
of virgin forests, and pioneer work was constantly needed.
Still even then it was but a social revival, hinting at a preceding
epoch of closer communistic co-operation, yet at the same
time pointing out the existing severance between the households
of which the community was formed. In other words,
the pómoch, being undoubtedly a revival of primeval communism,
is at the same time a sign of the dissolution of communism
into individual households.
However, it is essential to notice that the Russian household
is not identical with the Roman family or its derivatives.
The Roman paterfamilias is the absolute master of all living
under his patria potestas; he is the unlimited owner of all
property belonging to the household, even where such property
is the product of the personal industry of particular members
of the family. The modern family, on the other hand, is
merely a union of individuals having their individual rights
recognized by law, though sometimes not without certain
limitations in favor of the head of the family. The Russian
peasant family alone is a perfect communistic commonwealth.
All the moveables belonging to the household, as well as its
whole income, constitute the collective property of the family,
but not of its head. The same holds good even of those parts
of the Empire in which the village community disappeared
long before the emancipation of the peasants. In Little Russia
and White Russia, as elsewhere, the statute of 1861 recognized
the rural institutions upheld by peasant common law.
Thus the land was there allotted to the families, and it was
subsequently reaffirmed by the Senate, in one of its interpretations,
that the land does not belong to the head of the family,
but does belong to the family as a whole.
Moreover, an old Russian family greatly resembled a community
even in the number of its members. Mr. Krasnoperoff,
in a paper which appeared some ten years ago in the Otechestvenniya
Zapiski, described a family he met with in the province
of Mohileff. The family numbered ninety-nine members,
and was composed of a grandmother, with her children and
married grandchildren, all of whom were living together and
working for their own common benefit. Such households are,
indeed, isolated exceptions at the present day, but they were
universal in the past.
Thus ownership of land by the community without, and
complete communism within the family, were the fundamental
elements in the structure of the village at the dawn of Russian
history.
The rise and growth of private property in land soon came
in to restrict the domain of the village community.
In the early days of mankind coöperation is essential to
success in the struggle for life which man is carrying on daily
against his natural surroundings. Landholding, whether
collective or individual, must be large enough to admit of
coöperation. Therefore private ownership in land first appears
in history in the form of large holdings. Now, so long as
population is thin, and vacant land lies practically free to anybody,
it would be useless to occupy large estates if there were
no means of compelling the husbandman to labor in the landlord’s
fields instead of for his own benefit. Indeed, private
property in land in the early periods of history goes hand in
hand with the personal dependence of the tiller of the soil.
In the Muscovite State we find two forms of individual
landed property: patrimony (vottchina) or freehold, and fee
(pomest’ye) or benefice.
While fee was an institution of public law, patrimony owed
its origin to private law and to a more ancient epoch. Patrimonies
were to be found in the Republic of Novgorod, and in
some other States of the Russian Federation, before their conquest
by the Great Princes of Muscovy, afterwards Czars of all
the Russias. The rise of this form of property is intimately
bound up with the growth of slavery in ancient Russia.
Slavery, like patrimony, was also an institution of private law,
arising from the transaction of loan. The payment of the
debt was secured, as in the civil law (jus civile), by the person
of the debtor. Unquestionably this was the only possible
security in an historical epoch when landed property had no
value, save when human labor was applied to it. As in Rome,
war was the constant cause that put the peasant under the
necessity of contracting loans. As in Rome, there could
hardly be found two years of uninterrupted peace in the course
of the first centuries of Russia’s history. Destruction, by
force of arms and rapine, usually compelled the plundered
peasant to alienate his liberty to the “better man” (vir bonus,
καλὸς κἀγαθός) who furnished him with cattle, seed, and implements.
The peasant sold himself either for a term of years, or
for life, and in the course of time the state of serfdom became
hereditary. The labor of these slaves (zakup, kabalniy holóp)
was used by the creditors to cultivate their estates, or to reclaim
new acres from the forest. Amidst the wilderness of
primitive forests, such parcels of cultivated land had already a
certain value which attracted settlers. Here we have the origin
of patrimonies in Russia during the “period of federation
and witenagemote.”
Left, however, as it was, to private intercourse and initiative,
the spread of individual landed property, like the number of
slaves, remained comparatively limited. It was only as political
institutions that individual landholding and personal dependence
of the peasant were to become the foundations of
social life in Russia.
The fee was the virtual germ of Russian private property in
land.
Not only in Russia, but also in many other countries, private
property in land owed its origin to relations of public law.
Public land (ager publicus) was primarily held by officers on
the ground of, and for the purposes of their office as a benefice.
In proportion as the offices became hereditary, and the relations
growing out of administration of public affairs developed
into personal dependence of the common people upon the
office holders, the tenure of land by reason of office became
hereditary, and subsequently developed into an institution of
private law. The next step was in the direction of freeing the
landholder from the duty of public service connected with the
tenure of his land. Thus his possession became independent.
On the other hand, the free ownership of land by the people
was replaced, in the course of evolution, by dependent possession.
And finally, with the abolition of the personal dependence
of the peasant, his right to land expired.
Such was, taking a bird’s eye view, the evolution of private
property in most European countries. In Russia the course
was essentially the same.
Old republican and semi-republican Russia of “the period
of federation and witenagemote” knew no firm government.
The prince was elected and deposed by the people, and it was
very difficult for him to hold his position for more than any
single year amidst the dissensions of the hostile factions of
turbulent citizens. Usually princes tramped their whole life
long from one principality to another, attendants tramping
with them. War was their chief business and war was also
their chief source of income. Moreover, through a confiscation
of the judicial functions by the prince, a part of the
wergild paid by the convicted wrongdoer to the right party,
found its way into the treasury of the prince to be distributed
among his followers. No bond wedded the prince and his
followers to the land until the nomadic elected prince was replaced
by the Muscovite Great Prince and Lord of All the
Russias. Struggle with the Tartar conquerors—a struggle
that lasted for two centuries—furthered the growth of centralization
and of monarchical authority, and the former free attendant
of the prince became the servitor of his sovereign.
The State in Russia has always been a self-sufficing entity,
which claimed the services of everybody, without owing in return
anything to anybody. And this still remains to-day the
fundamental principle wherein Russian public law differs from
constitutional law. If, perchance, the state engaged in suppressing
crime, it was not for the sake of justice or defense to
the people, but rather for fiscal considerations, or for the sake
of the safety of the state, threatened by gangs of brigands and
highway robbers. It was the duty of the “servitor” (sloozhiliy
chelovek) to prosecute bandits, to defend the frontiers from
invasion by nomadic tribes, and to appear in case of war
among his sovereign’s troops with a number of armed men.
To furnish the “gentleman” with the necessary means for the
support of his detachment, and in general for the discharge of
his office, he was granted a certain tract of land “in fee.”
The peasant who settled upon this lot was bound to pay a
certain tax (in kind) to the “gentleman” to whom the power
of taxation was delegated by the State. However, it was no
easy task to enforce the exact payment of the taxes, since the
peasant could run away at any time he chose as soon as he
found the payments becoming burdensome.
Indeed, even in modern Russia, wherever land is in abundance,
agriculture is to a great extent a nomadic pursuit. A
field is cultivated uninterruptedly for from two to three years,
and the peasant then leaves it and turns to another fresh lot.
It is only after a period of not less than twenty years that the
peasant will perhaps return to the first lot. It may be, however,
that he will change his place for an entirely new one.
In olden times the facilities for migration were the same as
they now are in Siberia. This state of things gave rise to
competition among the gentry, who vied with one another in
cutting down the rate of payments exacted from the peasants.
The gentry constantly complained of being unable to fulfil
their duties toward the State so long as this self-willedness on
the part of the peasants continued. In order to secure exact
fulfilment by each of his duties toward the state, freedom of
migration was first limited, and then gradually abolished.
The free peasant became bound to the soil, glebæ adscriptus.
Yet this dependence was based entirely upon public law. The
peasant was made subject to the gentleman, not for the gentleman’s
sake, but for the benefit of the state. The only restriction
of civil rights imposed upon the peasant by his dependence
was the prohibition of emigration; and even in that
no distinction existed between the peasant and the gentleman,
since the latter was also forbidden to quit his fee. Throughout
the Muscovite period the peasant was considered as a
citizen, and was protected by the state against abuses of power
on the part of the gentleman. The latter was not even the
owner of the land; it belonged to the state, or to the Czar, as
the personification of the state. Land was allotted to the
gentleman for service, and for lifetime only, and could escheat
by the state for cause. Inasmuch, however, as the gentleman’s
son also entered the service of the Czar, it became little
by little a custom to transfer to the son his father’s fee. Thus
the fee became hereditary.
Peter the Great effaced all the distinctions that were characteristic
of the preceding epoch. By compelling every landholder
to enter the service of the state, and by establishing a
uniform law of inheritance for all real estate belonging to the
nobility, he merged in one patrimonies and fees. On the
other hand, by imposing the poll tax upon peasants, and by
making the landholder responsible for the exact payment of
this tax, he put slaves and serfs upon a common footing, and
made the latter personally dependent upon the landlord. His
successors restricted the civil rights of the peasants and took
away from them the right to sue their masters. At the same
time the latter were granted the right to exile their peasants
to Siberia, and to sell them, even where such sale entailed the
separation of the wife from her husband, of the child from its
parents. On the other hand, after the time of Peter the Great,
the duty of service was gradually relaxed, and at last definitively
abolished by Peter III in 1762.
It was by this ukase that private property in land and serfdom
were finally recognized in Russia as institutions of private
law.[7] But immediately after the “Charter to the Nobility”
was granted by Peter III, the question of emancipation began
to agitate the peasants. Three generations were too short a
period in which to implant in the minds of the peasantry the
new principles brought into social relations by the St. Petersburg
Emperors. The conservative mind of the peasant was
wedded to the old customs of the Muscovite common law.
He knew no Emperor; for him there was still a Czar, who
owned all the lands of his country for the good of his people.
The gentleman was bound to serve the Czar; the peasant was
bound to provide the gentleman with the necessary means;
hence bond serfdom and fee. And was the idea really so obsolete?
Were not the gentlemen daily granted large estates
for services they had rendered to the Czar? Now, since the
Czar in his grace has freed the gentleman from service, there
is no longer any ground upon which the gentleman can be
justified in detaining the land in his possession, nor is there
any reason for keeping the peasant in dependence upon the
gentleman. Consequently “Land and Liberty!” (Zemlya ee
Volya!) It is now plain enough why the nobility conspired
to assassinate the Emperor Peter III Theodorovitch. After the
“dear father” had narrowly escaped his fate, the lords declared
him dead; but fortunately he succeeded at last, after eleven
years of exile, in recruiting an army of loyal subjects to help
him in taking lawful possession of his throne, usurped by his
perfidious wife. The war over, the people will be graciously
vouchsafed “Land and Liberty.”
This legend found its way readily into the minds of the
peasants, who for a whole year, under the leadership of the
rebellious Cossack Emilian Pugacheff, alias “Emperor Peter
Theodorovitch,” held half Russia in their power. It would
be, of course, a rash conclusion to seek to establish any immediate
connection between the bloody uprising of 1773-1774
and the discussion of the question of emancipation in the
“Commission for the Enactment of a New Code,” called by
Catherine II. in 1767. Yet it is worth noticing that such a
question did arise, and that the emancipation of the peasants
was pleaded for by the representative of the Don Cossacks,
who were shortly to lead the insurrection. And, indeed,
many of those who represented the Cossacks in the commission
were later on active in the civil war. The suppression of the
latter led to the expansion of serfdom, since the “pension
system” of that epoch consisted, of necessity, only in grants of
“peasant souls.” Thus in the reign of Catherine II. about
one million “state serfs” were given into the private possession
of landlords, for military, or civil (or “personal”) merit.
The reigns of her successors were marked by an uninterrupted
series of peasant uprisings, agrarian crimes, and half-measures
on the part of the government to loosen the bonds
of serfdom. At the same time, after the conclusion of the
Napoleonic wars, abolitionist ideas began to win their way
among the land-owning, upper classes. The insurrection of
December 14th (26th), 1825, had among its chief purposes the
abolition of serfdom. The disastrous termination of that insurrection
did not stop the propaganda of the abolitionist
ideas which reached even to the palace, through the famous
Russian poet Zhukoffsky, instructor of Alexander II.
The political necessity of emancipation, as guaranteeing
the safety of the state, was brought still farther home to the
minds of the ruling classes by the general excitement among
the peasantry which followed the Crimean war, and broke out
in numberless riots of a most alarming character throughout
the country. “We must free the peasants from above, before
they begin to free themselves from below,”—these were the
historical words addressed by Alexander II to the Assembly
of the Nobility in Moscow, August 31st (September 12th),
1858. Yet such political farsightedness could hardly have developed,
had not the economic conditions been ripe for the
change. Indeed, after the Crimean war it became obvious to
the government that Russia, with her old-fashioned methods
of transportation, could play no prominent part in the “European
concert.” Now it was perfectly evident that an extensive
system of railways could not possibly be supported out of the
resources of agriculture alone, in a country in which nine-tenths
of the people were serfs, either of the state or of the
landlords, and had to bear out of their scanty income the expenses
of a large military state, and of an aristocracy. Industry
and commerce were necessary for the maintenance of
the state. The emancipation of the peasants was the scheme
to attract domestic and foreign capital to industrial pursuits in
Russia. By placing money in the hands of the landlords it
was sought to promote the progress of agriculture, and the
growth of industries intimately connected therewith. By setting
at liberty twenty million serfs, who were the subjects of
the landlords, wage-workers were created for industrial enterprises.
The economic significance of the reform of February 19th,
(March 3d,) 1861, lies in the fact that, on the one hand, it
completed the evolution of private property in land, and that,
on the other hand, it effected at a single blow the expropriation
of the peasantry on a large scale.
Before the emancipation anything like distinction between
the land of the lord and that of the peasant existed on
those estates on which the duties of the serf toward his master
were discharged in compulsory labor. Yet even there the
distinction was not clearly marked, for the peasants enjoyed
the right of pasture in common with the lord, and were
furnished a modicum of wood from the lord’s forest. The
distinction, moreover, was not a rigid one, since the lord could,
at his option, transform the corvée into tallage (taille)—compulsory
labor into compulsory payments. The latter form
prevailed on many estates. In such cases the lord enjoyed
merely the legal ownership, Ober-Eigenthum (dominium ex jure
Quiritium) while to the peasant belonged the real possession,
Nutzeigenthum (possessio ex jure gentium). Now the severance
of a tract of land from the fields held by the community transformed
communal possession into private property of the
gentleman. The owner who tilled the soil was transformed
into a tenant or into a wage-laborer.
There was a party among the nobility at the time of the
emancipation who would have liked to see a still more decided
reform in the same direction. In compliance with the wishes
of the members of this party it was accordingly proposed to
transfer all the land into the private property of the noble,
while leaving to the peasant merely his homestead (i. e. house,
yard and garden). But, after consideration, this radical plan
was abandoned, for fear lest it might prove seriously dangerous
to the public peace.
Unquestionably, the principles in accordance with which the
reform was carried out stood in striking contradiction to the
aspirations of the peasants, who held fast to the idea expressed
by the old saying: “We are yours, but the land is ours!”
Hence general disappointment of the peasantry with the reform,
which failed to grant the people “land” as well as “liberty.”
Now, since the land is the Czar’s and has been unlawfully
seized by the masters, can there be any doubt that the
gentlemen and the officials have conspired together against
the will of the Czar? We here arrive at the source of those
wide-spread legends of land nationalization that were so popular
with the peasants for a quarter of a century after the emancipation.
To obviate all incitement to acute outbreaks of popular discontent,
the government, as far as possible, avoided drastic
measures.
In order to meet the wishes of those who leaned toward the
Irish system of landholding, the government satisfied itself
with offering to every community the choice either of agreeing
to pay the redemption tax for the normal lots, or of taking
in lieu thereof the so called “donated lots” extending to
one-fourth of the normal lots, and free from the redemption tax.
At the same time these lots became at once the absolute
property of the donees.
Similarly, the government did not proceed to an immediate
assault upon agrarian communism, though considering the
same as an obstacle to agricultural progress. Wherever communism
was in existence, the land was allotted to the community
as a whole. But a road was opened to the spontaneous
and gradual dissolution of the community. The “homesteads,”
i. e. the house, the yard and garden, were declared the
property of the family. Further, the community was empowered
to divide the field into private property, upon a vote
of two-thirds of the householders. Finally every individual
householder was granted the right of enclosing his lot, after
having complied with certain formalities, and paid the whole
amount of amortization. It was hoped that as soon as the way
had been opened to private property, the latter would not fail
to take the place of communism. These expectations were,
however, fulfilled but in a comparatively meagre measure.
The reason lay in the fact that the government could not make
up its mind to break entirely with the old regime.
In order to smooth the opposition of the nobility to the
emancipation of their serfs, the redemption of land was not
made compulsory. The State undertook the part of middleman
between the gentleman and the peasant, under certain
normal conditions. But the agreement was to be made voluntarily
between the parties. The gentleman alone was given
the privilege of rendering the redemption compulsory at his
own option, by making an abatement of one-fifth of the normal
rate of installments. In case no such action was taken by
him, and no mutual understanding could be reached, the peasant
remained in a transitional state of dependence upon his
former master. His obligation was to be discharged either in
pecuniary payments or in forced labor. This state of moderated
serfdom lasted throughout the reign of Alexander II.,
surnamed “the Liberator,” and was abolished in 1883 by a
law ordering the compulsory settlement of the relations between
the so-called “temporary obligors” and their masters.[8]
In so far as this state of dependence remained in existence,
the destructive influence of the “Statute of Redemption” upon
the rural community was suspended.[9]
Whatever may have been the effect of permitting the dependence
of the peasant to be continued, the support offered
to the community by the old fiscal system, which has remained
up to this very day, was still more influential.
It would be idle to criticise the Russian financial system
from the standpoint of justice in taxation. The law of self-preservation
is the first law of all being. To cover her nine
hundred million budget, official Russia has got simply to take
money wherever it can be found. Now where can it be found
in Russia? The State can tax either the producer or the consumer,
or both. Where is the producer to be sought for purposes
of taxation? Is it in industry, which is being fostered
by means of bounties and prohibitive tariffs? Is it the noble
landlord, for whom State mortgage banks are established,
and State lotteries issued, whose solo notes are discounted by
the State Bank, etc? Then there remains none but the peasant
to pay the taxes. Should on the other hand the consumer
be taxed, then again it is the 80 per cent. peasants who must
pay the major part of the indirect taxes.[10] In a word, whether
the burden weigh upon producer or consumer, it must needs
be the Russian peasant to whom will fall the lion’s share—in
paying the taxes. And truly the peasantry, like the “burghers,”
are designated as a “taxable order,” but the burghers
are too few to cut any figure as compared with the peasant.
What follows?
A great sensation was produced in 1877 by a book on Russian
taxation by Prof J. E. Janson, of the University of St.
Petersburg.[11] On the strength of the Reports of the Commission
of Inquiry into the Condition of Agriculture in Russia, 1872, and
of the Proceedings of the Commission on Taxation, he brought
to light the startling fact that the amount of taxes paid
by the peasant toward 1872 considerably exceeded the net
income of his land.[12] This means that it did not pay for
the peasant to own land, since he had to cover a part of the
taxes from his wages, while, by deserting his plot, he would
enjoy the whole amount of his wages with the exception of a
small poll tax. And indeed many a peasant would be glad to
run away from his farm, if he was only permitted to do so.
But the fulfilment of the peasant’s obligation toward the State
was secured by the curtailment of his personal liberty. In
case of arrears he would get no passport, and no one is allowed
in Russia to go farther from home than 30 versts (about 20
miles) without a passport, under penalty of being imprisoned
and forwarded home by étape. Should, however, the peasant
renounce his right of locomotion, then public sale of his homestead
and personal effects, and corporal punishment[13] inevitably
follow arrears in the payment of taxes. Moreover all the
members of the community are responsible, jointly and severally,
for the exact payment of the taxes assessed upon the
community as a whole. Therefore wherever, and so long as,
the taxes exceed the rent brought in by the land[14] the ancestral
tenet of communal supremacy is emphatically observed,
and the most scrupulous justice and equality are maintained in
the distribution of the land.
The lots are strictly proportioned to the number of males in
each family, or to that of the workers (from the ages of 15-18
to 55-60), or even to the number of “eaters”; democratic
principles being so far lived up to as to efface all distinction
between male and female “mouths.” The terms of distribution
vary according to the kinds of land. Meadows are
subdivided every summer. Arable is usually distributed at
intervals of greater length. Yet, in the meantime, for some
reason or other, land may become vacant, or fall to the disposal
of the community. It often happens that some householder
requests to be relieved of a part of his land on the
ground of the decrease in the number of workers in his family,
e. g., because his son has been enlisted in the army. At the
same time there may be other families who are “strong,” i. e.,
well-off and numerous enough to pay the taxes for an additional
tract of land. In such cases a partial subdivision between
the households is made by the community. After a
time, with the increase in the number of these partial subdivisions,
the complexity and inequality of distribution necessitate
a fresh general subdivision. The land is once more minutely
redivided among the villagers. The optimistic enthusiast of
the community would fancy that at last it stood firmly rooted
in the soil, in spite of all unfavorable environments.
And yet, notwithstanding the strictest minuteness in the
distribution of land, wherein the sovereignty of the mir over
private interests is manifested, the equilibrium of the rural
community must be defined as utterly unstable, since it rests
upon such a shaky basis as over-taxation of the land. The
economic development of Russia, however, tends to eliminate
the disproportion between tax and income.
By taking one-half of the land out of the occupancy of the
community, the government put the peasant under the necessity
of seeking land or employment outside of his own farmstead.
To secure to the landlords an abundant supply of farm
hands, the emigration of the former serfs to districts where
there was plenty of vacant land was so throttled with red tape
that it was practically equivalent to prohibition.[15] Moreover,
in 1866 the emancipation of the State peasants brought about
the repeal of the old law, which encouraged emigration, under
certain conditions, through the support of the State. As opposed
to this the “Statute of the peasants freed from bond
serfdom,” which was now to be applied to the former State
peasant, brought with it a new restriction of his personal rights.
The peasants now found themselves tied to the place in
which they had been born. The increased demand for land
could not but react upon the peasants’ plots, by raising the rent
that they brought, and so neutralizing the effects of over-taxation.
The fiscal influence which tends to counteract the
dissolution of the village community is thus passing away.