The Russian Empire

The Russian Empire was one of the largest in the world. Apart from its imposing size, it possessed political features that differed markedly from those of other European powers. Nowhere on the continent did rulers have the unlimited power of the tsar-emperors.

At the onset of the 19th century, there were a few ambiguous indications that the young and popular Alexander 1 might push reforms to their logical conclusion and grant his subjects a constitution, thereby replacing autocracy with the rule of law. But it soon became apparent that the “enlightened” emperor did not treat the idea of a constitution seriously. Nevertheless, he did raise hopes in the tiny liberal segment of the imperial elite, and in December 1825, immediately after his death, a group of nobles attempted a coup for the purpose of establishing constitutional government. Although the Decembrist Revolt, as it was called, failed miserably, the new emperor, Nicholas 1, was deeply shaken by this challenge to his authority and resolved to impose greater control over his subjects than ever before.

A military man at heart, Nicholas 1 attempted to impose the discipline and regimentation of his beloved army on the entire society. To attain his goals, he expanded the bureaucracy, and in 1826, introduced the Third Section of the Imperial Chancellery, Russia’s first secret police.

Adherents of Russian autocracy often cited another argument in its favor. It related to the multiethnic nature of the empire and was formulated most clearly by Prince Oleksander Bezborodko, one of the most illustrious of the many Ukrainians who joined the imperial service and, it should be noted, a man who was known for his love of his native Ukraine: “Russia is an autocratic state. Its size, the variety of its inhabitants and customs, and the many other considerations make it [autocracy] the only natural form of government for Russia. All arguments to the contrary are futile, and the least weakening of the autocratic power would result in the loss of many provinces, the weakening of the state, and countless misfortunes for the people.”² Attitudes such as this encouraged bureaucrats to administer the empire as if it consisted of a single people – the Russians – and to disregard the different ethnic origins and historical traditions of its many other subjects.

Because Ukrainians were linguistically and culturally closely related to the Russians, the government found it easy to view Ukraine essentially as a Russian land. If one were to ask an imperial official (and very few people ever dreamed of doing so) by what right Russia ruled much of Ukraine, the reply would have been similar to the inscription on a medal struck in honor of Catherine II in 1793, which read: “I have recovered what was torn away.” The implication was that Ukraine had always been an integral part of Russia and that it was only as a result of historical accident that it had been temporarily separated from it. The differences that existed between Russians and Ukrainians, an imperial bureaucrat would argue, were simply the result of this temporary separation.

A concrete and ubiquitous sign of the imperial presence in Ukraine was the army. Its numerous garrisons and forts dotted the countryside and its commanders demanded onerous obligations from the populace. The most dreaded military burden was conscription, introduced in Ukraine in 1797. For those unfortunates who fell into the hands of recruiting agents, the length of service was twenty-five years. Because of the inhumane discipline and frequent wars, such a term of service was widely regarded as tantamount to a death sentence. Little wonder that recruits were often led away in chains and landlords would punish their most troublesome serfs by having them conscripted.

An outgrowth of the tsar’s militaristic approach to government was the establishment of the hated military colonies by Alexander 1 and his fanatically authoritarian minister, Aleksei Arakcheev, between 1816 and 1821. About 500,000 soldiers were ordered to establish settlements, which were run like military camps and in which every aspect of family life, including permission to marry and the timing of children, was regulated by strict and detailed instructions. There were about twenty of these regiment-sized settlements in Ukraine. However, the stifling regulations proved to be counterproductive and, by 1857, most of these military colonies were disbanded. Nonetheless, they served as a telling, if extreme, example of the tsarist bureaucracy’s efforts to impose military discipline on civilian activities.

The process of imposing imperial administrative structures on Ukrainian lands began as early as the 1770s, but it was not until the 1830s that it assumed its final form. At that time, Ukraine was divided into nine provinces (gubernii), which could be subdivided informally into three distinct regions: Left-Bank Ukraine, where Cossack and starshyna traditions were strongest, consisted of Chernihiv, Poltava, and Kharkiv provinces; the recently acquired Right Bank, where Polish nobles still exercised socioeconomic domination over the Ukrainian peasantry and where the towns were populated mainly by Jews, consisted of Kiev, Podilia, and Volhynia provinces; and the newly colonized south, once the domain of the Zaporozhians and the Crimean Khanate, was divided into the provinces of Katerynoslav, Kherson, and Tavria (Crimea).

The hierarchy of officials who administered these units was similar throughout the empire. Provinces were headed by governors who were appointed by the tsar. Aiding the governors were an administrative board and various bureaus that dealt with matters such as public order, education, and taxes. The upper levels of the administration were usually made up of professional bureaucrats. However, on the county level and lower, many officials, such as police commandant, marshal of the nobility, and judges, were local nobles elected by nobles. The empire simply did not have enough full-time bureaucrats to fulfill all its needs.

In general, the new administrative structure worked to the disadvantage of Ukraine’s oldest cities, most of which had enjoyed autonomy under the ancient Magdeburg Law. In 1835, Kiev was the last city to lose the special status associated this law. Henceforth, most of Ukraine’s cities were subordinated to the provincial administration. On the lowest administrative level – that of the village – the maintenance of law and order was the responsibility of local noblemen.

In terms of social background, the people who staffed the administration and were responsible for the day-to-day government of Ukraine in the 19th century tended to be noblemen-turned-bureaucrats. The highest offices, such as governor, usually went to officials who belonged to important aristocratic families, while middle-level offices were generally staffed by average noblemen. Such lowly positions as clerks or scribes were the domain of townsmen or sons of priests. Peasants almost never rose to even the most insignificant posts.

The ethnic composition of the bureaucracy in Ukraine varied according to region. In Left-Bank Ukraine where scions of the old Cossack starshyna were recognized as nobles, well-known Ukrainian names, such as Myloradovych, Myklashevsky, Kochubei, Zavadovsky, Kapnist, and Poletyka, could be found among the highest officials.

The imperial bureaucracy was organized along military lines and was replete with ranks and uniforms. Many of its members were notorious for their proclivity to fawn before their superiors, while simultaneously bullying underlings. With no constitution to protect the rights of individuals, bureaucrats could, and often did, interfere in people’s personal lives. Their irritating presence was mitigated somewhat by their relatively small numbers: because the Russian Empire was a comparatively poor country, it could afford to support only about 12 officials per 10,000 inhabitants. By comparison, the ratio in the West was three to four times higher.

The Russian government’s inability to pay its officials adequate wages encouraged widespread corruption that was informally tolerated by the government, especially on the local level. As long as its officials supplied the imperial treasury with the assigned amount, it cared little how much they extorted from the populace on their own. While Russians were more accustomed to this burdensome bureaucratism, it was still a new and strange phenomenon for Ukrainians in the early 19th century. Perhaps this explains why it was a Ukrainian, Nikolai Gogol, who satirized the imperial bureaucracy so brilliantly in his famous play The Inspector General (1836).

Until the reign of Nicholas I (1825–55), the Russian Empire had only informal, haphazard police supervision and there was no institution that specialized in political repression. But, in 1826, after the shock of the Decembrist Revolt, the tsar’s formation of the Third Section produced the empire’s first regular secret police.

Yet despite its repressive features, the empire was by no means a police state. Corrupt, inefficient, and spread over vast territories, its bureaucrats could not or would not fulfill all the instructions that poured forth from the capital. For every martinet there was usually an official who, out of kindness or for the sake of bribes, ignored minor offences or softened prescribed sentences. Moreover, foreign travel was allowed for the few who could afford it, and Western influences spread among the ruling elite, mitigating some of the worst abuses of the regime. The Little Russian (Maloros) mentality

Impressed with the empire’s power and grandeur, attracted by its career opportunities, and placated by acceptance into the Russian imperial nobility, many members of the former Ukrainian starshyna needed little urging to become loyal, even devoted, subjects of the tsar-emperor. For them Ukraine became little more than a part, albeit an endearing one, of the imperial whole, and Ukrainians were but a “tribe” of the Russian people. They were indifferent and even antagonistic to any political action based on the notion of Ukrainian separateness. Typical of the “Little Russian mentality” were the words of Viktor Kochubei, a Ukrainian who became the chairman of the imperial council in the 1830s: “Although I was born a khokhol [a somewhat derogatory term for Ukrainians], I am more Russian than anyone else… My position puts me above all sorts of petty considerations. I look at the concerns of your provinces [Ukraine] from the point of view of the common interests of our entire society. Microscopic views are not my concern.”⁴

Among 20th-century historians of the nationalist school, the Little Russian mentality has been severely criticized. Viacheslav Lypynsky, the leading proponent of Ukrainian elitism and statehood in the 1920s, commented that it was a typical complex of stateless peoples. He argued that in advocating assimilation into the Russian imperial model, the Little Russians often gave up some of the best features of Ukrainians while adopting many of the worst traits of Russians.⁵ Nonetheless, the fact remains that Little Russian attitudes were quite prevalent among the 19th-century Ukrainian elite and Ukrainians themselves were sometimes the greatest opponents of Ukrainian distinctiveness.