But the most notable result brought about by “The Bell” was the change of attitude in which the Russian government was placed, and (since the government was the Czar) the attitude in which the Czar suddenly found himself toward his subjects. The imperial government, under Nicholas, has been bold and aggressive; under Alexander the Second it was placed on the defensive; it was compelled to plead with public opinion in order to clear itself of the attacks made against it, and when these pleas failed to convince, it resorted again to the old repressive and despotic measures which were even more odious from having become obsolete for a number of years. Autocracy, which in the hands of a strong man like Nicholas the First had been a source of strength and protection, became in the hands of a weak and vacillating man a source of weakness and danger. Public opinion, which under Nicholas had been silent, because it dared not assert itself, turned openly against Alexander, who had removed the bars which kept it in check and the fear which repressed its utterances.
It is time here to refer shortly to the origin and growth of a political doctrine which at this time appeared in Russia and which has had a great and pernicious influence on Russian history,—Nihilism. The name appears for the first time in the famous novel of Ivan Turgenieff, “Fathers and Sons,” and designates a political programme which has found its most numerous and most enthusiastic adherents among the young men and women of Russia, especially of the educated and professional classes, the students and professors of the universities. It first manifested its existence shortly after the death of the Emperor Nicholas, when, through the liberal measures of his successor, the high schools and academies of the empire were opened to the people, when the universities were filled with thousands of young students, eager to learn and imbibe philosophical and political principles which until then had been unknown to them. The Nihilistic party aimed at a total regeneration of society and at the destruction of its present organization in state, church, and social institutions, and it found its explanation and excuse in the widespread corruption, brutality, and despotism of the officials. It is a mistake to confound the Nihilists with the Liberals or even with the Socialists who are advocating reforms or the abolition of certain political or social abuses. The Nihilists are not aiming at reforms; they simply demand the overthrow and complete annihilation of the existing social system with all its institutions, until nothing (nihil) remains standing. The reconstruction of society, based upon principles of reason and justice, is their ideal; but they leave the realization of this ideal to future generations, and advocate for the present the employment of all means, even the most reprehensible, for the attainment of their immediate aim. The originators and great apostles of the new party were Alexander Herzen and Bakúnin, who imbued the young persons of both sexes with an implacable hatred for the present system of government and social organization. They made not only despotism but all authority odious.
The first public manifestation of Nihilism was Karakasow’s attempt on the life of Alexander the Second in 1866. It failed, and at the trial it appeared that the attempt was not founded on individual hostility, but on abhorrence of authority in general. The attempt on the life of General Trepow, minister of police, in 1878, showed the dangerous and rapid progress which the party had made. The assailant was an educated young woman, Vera Sassoulitch, who wanted to revenge official injustice by punishing one of its most prominent representatives. She was acquitted by a jury at St. Petersburg on February 5, 1878; and this acquittal, brought about by the ostentatious manifestation of the sympathy of the higher classes during her trial, caused a sensation throughout Europe. The Czar himself was enraged at the result of the trial, and devoted himself to the extermination of Nihilism by all means in his power. The issue had then been dearly made. Nihilism had by that time become very aggressive. It was no longer satisfied with preaching a philosophical doctrine, but it openly advocated a policy of murder and incendiarism, in order to frighten and disorganize society, and especially public officials. On the other hand, the government resorted to the most rigorous measures to exterminate the Nihilists wherever they could be found.
Alexander the Second suffered terribly when he became aware, too late for him to master it, of the new intellectual movement and its political results in his empire. The situation was the more painful to him, because his own conscience as well as the old Russian party held him principally responsible for it. It was he who had set free that liberal propagandism which had culminated in this terrible agitation for the destruction of society, and which had entirely outgrown his control. Alexander’s mental condition, on this discovery, would form an interesting subject for the psychologist. From the day when he began to reign as an enthusiastic, well-intentioned man of thirty-seven, to the days of his disappointments as a ruler and reformer, ending with one of the most terrible catastrophes of modern times, his career challenges, for adequate treatment, the genius of a Shakespeare. No wonder that he became despondent and thought of abdication,—a thought which reappeared with ever increasing force to the end of his reign.
Nor was this feeling of discouragement and weariness of life caused exclusively by the fear of personal danger; on the contrary, Alexander knew only too well that he was not the only object of Nihilistic persecution, but that all those dear to his heart and also those whom he honored with his confidence and friendship were equally exposed.
The attempt on the life of General Trepow had still another effect on the Czar. It effectually eradicated from his mind his previous predilection for liberal reforms and a paternal government; it stirred up a feeling of resentment and hatred against revolutionists, reformers, and liberals which had never been noticed in him before, and which manifested itself in the most severe measures of repression. To his great chagrin he saw soon that these measures were utterly unavailing to repress the spirit of rebellion in the empire and in his own capital. Nihilism spread with the unconquerable fury of a contagious epidemic and defied all measures of the authorities to check it. On the twenty-first of February, 1879, Prince Krapotkine, Governor of Charkow, was assassinated; and shortly after, attempts were made on the lives of General Drentelen, a great favorite at court, and of Count Lewis Melikow, Secretary of the Interior.
Alexander himself was exposed to a number of murderous attempts. His escape from the one made by Alexander Sokoloff, a school-teacher of Toropetz, in the district of Pskoff, is almost miraculous. On the fourteenth of April, 1879, at nine o’clock in the morning, the Emperor, seated in an open carriage, was waiting in front of the palace of Prince Gortschakoff, his Secretary of State. Sokoloff approached the carriage without having been noticed by the attendants. He was well dressed, wore a military cap, and looked like a retired officer. Standing within a few feet of Alexander, he suddenly pulled forth from under his coat a revolver, and, in rapid succession, fired four shots at him, all of which, however, missed their aim. The would-be murderer was immediately overpowered by the Emperor’s attendants; but during the struggle he fired a fifth shot which severely wounded one of the servants. Sokoloff had two capsules containing poison, fastened with wax under his armpits. He succeeded in swallowing one of them before he could be prevented, but an antidote was immediately administered and saved his life. He was sentenced to death and executed without having confessed the motive of his assault or given the names of any accomplices.
After this attempt the most vigorous and ingenious measures were taken for the Emperor’s protection. When, in the summer of the same year, Alexander travelled from St. Petersburg to Livadia, he was taken to the depot in an iron carriage and escorted by four companies of cavalry. Moreover the depot was surrounded by several regiments of infantry and cavalry, and nobody was permitted to approach it. Similar measures of precaution had been taken at all railway stations along the route where the imperial train was expected to stop. At all railroad crossings police officers and detectives had been stationed to prevent even the possibility of a collision with the imperial train. Another train filled entirely with the body-guards and high police officials preceded, at a short distance, the Emperor and his family. A large detective force was stationed along the whole route, and scoured the country for miles on both sides of the railroad, making it impossible for anybody to approach the track without being closely observed. At night, the entire route was lit up on either side with immense bonfires built at short distances in order to make the surveillance of the road as complete during the night as during the day. In order not to delay the imperial train on the road, all other trains were stopped for days, and the most stringent orders were issued that no persons should approach either the depots or any part of the railroad.
That travelling under such circumstances was not a pleasure, and would make a man exceedingly nervous, if not absolutely ill, may well be imagined. But in spite of these and other precautions almost passing human belief, a new attempt on the Emperor’s life was made during his return trip from Livadia to Moscow. On the first of December, 1879, Alexander had arrived at Moscow safely; but about ten or fifteen minutes later a mine exploded, which had been established under the railroad track in the immediate vicinity of the depot. The explosion occurred at the moment when the second imperial train was passing. It demolished the baggage car and threw seven or eight passenger cars off the track. Fortunately nobody was seriously hurt. The Emperor and his suite were on the first train this time, while the Nihilists had supposed they would be on the second.
Less than three months later, on the seventeenth of February, 1880, the Czar was in much greater danger at St. Petersburg. At about seven o’clock P.M., on that day, as he was on the point of entering the dining-room of his palace, suddenly a terrible dynamite explosion occurred underneath the hall occupied by the Imperial Guards. The explosion was so violent that all the windows in that wing of the palace were shattered, the ceilings of the rooms in the lower story and of the hall of the guards were full of holes, and the floors torn to pieces, while the tables and the dishes in the imperial dining-room were hurled in all directions. Eight soldiers and two servants of the imperial household were killed, while forty-five were more or less seriously wounded.