SLAVONIC RELIGIOUS AND POLITICAL SYSTEMS
In speaking of this eastern half of Europe as _Russia_, we have been
borrowing from the future. At the time we have been considering there
was no Russia. The world into which Christ came contained no Russia.
The Roman Empire rose and fell, and still there was no Russia. Spain,
Italy, France, and England were taking on a new form of life through
the infusion of Teuton strength, and modern Europe was coming into
being, and still the very name of Russia did not exist. The great
expanse of plains, with its medley of Oriental barbarism, was to Europe
the obscure region through which had come the Hunnish invasion from
Asia.
This catastrophe was the only experience that this land had in common
with the rest of Europe. The Goths had established an empire where the
ancient Graeco-Scythians had once been. The overthrowing of this
Gothic Empire was the beginning of Attila's European conquests; and the
passage of the Hunnish horde, precisely as in the rest of Europe,
produced a complete overturning. A torrent of Oriental races, Finns,
Bulgarians, Magyars, and others, rushed in upon the track of the Huns,
and filled up the spaces deserted by the Goths. Here as elsewhere the
Hun completed his appointed task of a rearrangement of races; thus
fundamentally changing the whole course of future events. Perhaps
there would be no Magyar race in Hungary, and certainly a different
history to write of Russia, had there been no Hunnish invasion in 375
A. D.
The old Roman Empire, which in its decay had divided into an Eastern
and a Western Empire (in the fourth century), had by the fifth century
succumbed to the new forces which assailed it, leaving only a
glittering remnant at Byzantium.
The Eastern or Byzantine Empire, rich in pride and pretension, but poor
in power, was destined to stand for one thousand years more, the
shining conservator of the Christian religion (although in a form quite
different from the Church of Rome) and of Greek culture. It is
impossible to imagine what our civilization would be to-day if this
splendid fragment of the Roman Empire had not stood in shining
petrifaction during the ages of darkness, guarding the treasures of a
dead past.
While these tremendous changes were occurring in the West, unconscious
as toiling insects the various peoples in Russia were preparing for an
unknown future. The Bulgarians were occupying large spaces in the
South. The Finns, who had been driven by the Bulgarians from their
home upon the Volga, had centered in the Northwest near the Baltic,
their vigorous branches mingled more or less with other Asiatic races,
stretching here and there in the North, South, and East. The Russian
Slavs, as the parent stem is called, were distributing themselves along
a strip of territory running north and south along the line of the
Dnieper; while the terrible Turks, and still more terrible Tatar
tribes, hovered chiefly about the Black, the Caspian, and the Sea of
Azof. No dream of unity had come to anyone. But had there been a
forecast then of the future, it would have been said that the more
finely organized Finn would become the dominant race; or perhaps the
Bulgarian, who was showing capacity for empire-building; but certainly
not that helpless Slavonic people wedged in between their stronger
neighbors.
But there were no large ambitions yet. It meant nothing to them that
there was a new "Holy Roman Empire," and that Charlemagne had been
crowned at Rome successor of the Roman Caesars (800 A. D.); nor that an
England had just been consolidated into one kingdom. Nor did it
concern them that the Saracen had overthrown a Gothic empire in Spain
(710). For them these things did not exist. But they knew about
Constantinople. The Byzantine Empire was the sun which shone beyond
their horizon, and was for them the supreme type of power and earthly
splendor. Whatever ambitions and aspirations would in time awaken in
these Oriental breasts must inevitably have for their ideal the
splendid despotism of the Eastern Caesars. But that stage had not yet
been reached.
Although branches of the Slavonic race had separated from the parent
stem, bearing different names, the Bohemians on the Vistula, the
Poliani in what was to become Poland, the Lithuanians near the Baltic,
and minor tribes scattered elsewhere, from the Peloponnesus to the
Baltic, all had the same general characteristics. Their religion, like
that of all Aryan peoples, was a pantheism founded upon the phenomena
of nature. In their Pantheon there was a Volos, a solar deity who,
like the Greek Apollo, was inspirer of poets and protector of the
flocks--Perun, God of Thunder--Stribog, the father of the Winds, like
Aeolus--a Proteus who could assume all shapes--Centaurs, Vampires, and
hosts of minor deities, good and evil. There were neither temples nor
priests, but the oak was venerated and consecrated to Perun; and rude
idols of wood stood upon the hills, where sacrifices were offered to
them and they were worshiped by the people.
They believed that their dead passed into a future life, and from the
time of the early Scythians it had been the custom to strangle a male
and a female servant of the deceased to accompany him on his journey to
the other land. The barbarity of their religious rites varied with the
different tribes, but the general characteristics were the same, and
the people everywhere were profoundly attached to their pagan
ceremonies and under the dominion of an intense form of superstition.
Slav society was everywhere founded upon the patriarchal principle.
The father was absolute head of the family, his authority passing
undiminished upon his death to the oldest surviving member. This was
the social unit.
The Commune, or _Mir_, was only the expansion of the family, and was
subject to the authority of a council, composed of the elders of the
several families, called the _vetché_. The village lands were held in
common by this association. The territory was the common property of
the whole. No hay could be cut nor fish caught without permission from
the _vetché_. Then all shared alike the benefit of the enterprise.
The communes nearest together formed a still larger group called a
_Volost_; that is, a canton or parish, which was governed by a council
composed of the elders of the communes, one of whom was recognized as
the chief. Beyond this the idea of combination or unity did not
extend. Such was the primitive form of society which was common to all
the Slavonic branches. It was communistic, patriarchal, and just to
the individual. They had no conception of tribal unity, nor of a
sovereignty which should include the whole. If the Slav ever came
under the despotism of a strong personal government, the idea must come
from some external source; it must be imposed, not grow; for it was not
indigenous in the character of the people. It would be perfectly
natural for them to submit to it if it came, for they were a passive
people, but they were incapable of creating it.