ing that there is a large contingent of Uzbeks in the Tadjik Republic, for this discovery points to the possibility that the Uzbeks played the role of "elder brother" in the Tadjiks' development-as the Russians had done for the Uzbeks. A detailed study of the 1920's and 1930's suggests that an Uzbek hegemony did exist, yet Caroe chooses not to treat this or other evidence of tensions and rivalries among the various Central Asian peoples.

Alec Nove and J. A. Newth take a quite different approach from that of Mr. Caroe. They seem to consider it more productive to evaluate the modernization of the "Soviet Middle East" while purposely avoiding preoccupation with the theme of Russian imperialism.

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In the course of their appraisal, the two authors make a strong case for the argument that there were fewer political and more economic motives behind Soviet policy than is often granted. First of all, they dispense with the notion of "cotton colony" as a comprehensive framework or a very useful insight. After explaining that political attitudes in the Soviet Union are diffi cult to measure, they assert that there is little evidence of the sort of antiRussian sentiment that would doubtedly characterize a "cotton colony." They argue, further, that the Uzbek dekkhan suffered less than the Russian or Ukrainian peasant, and in fact gained a great deal from the Russian presence and from integration into the all-Union economic network. The data gathered for this volume present a vivid contrast between the economic progress of the Soviet Republics of Georgia and Uzbekistan and the lack of such progress in Turkey and Iran.

Islam in the Soviet Union, by Mr. Bennigsen and Miss Lemercier-Quelquejay, is an assessment of the Soviet impact on Central Asia from the historian's viewpoint. In this brilliant study the reader is not only treated to a stimulating analysis of the present state of Islam, but is also given a valuable reconstruction of the past, drawing upon the authors' earlier studies of Islam in the pre-Soviet and Soviet periods. This is a book of fundamental

* See by the same authors, La Presse et le Mouvement National chez les Musulmans de Russie avant 1920, and Les Mouvements Nationaux chez les Musulmans de Russie, Le "Sultangalievisme” au Tatarstan.

importance. The authors' discussion of the interaction between communism and Moslem nationalism, of the hopes, frustrations and ultimate fate of those Moslems who took the Leninist theory of self-determination seriously is first-rate, indeed probably the best available in Western literature. In addition, there is an authoritative analysis of the Sultan Galiev episode, including a perceptive evaluation of the motives of those Moslem Communists who rallied to the Soviet banner, and a sympathetic but realistic appraisal of the failures of the non-Communist nationalists.

Turkic émigrés may simply consider Moslem Communists such as Sultan Galiev and the Uzbek leaders, Akmal Ikramov and Faizulla Khodzhaev, to be traitors to their peoples. But the student of the Soviet Union must consider why such talented men found communism relevant to their problems. Benningsen and Quelquejay settle on the appeal of the ideology as a doctrine for modernization. According to the authors, the fate of these leaders under Stalin should not obscure the fact that they were seeking a synthesis of Marxism and Islam, of modernization and traditionalism, and that this search underlay their espousal of a form of

Bolshevism which they hoped to adapt to the native environment. Both Ikramov and Khodzhaev shared the dock with Bukharin and the others in the 1938 Moscow show trial; 5 and their recent rehabilitation has arisen from the attempt of the present Moslem intelligentsia to correct the historical record and perhaps to strive once again for greater local autonomy. The unexpected, difficult, but long overdue rehabilitation of the "bourgeois nationalist" Faizulla Khodzhaev 6 is especially pertinent to current controversies. Bennigsen and Quelquejay are convinced that the "Soviet" Moslem intelligentsia that has emerged since the purges will be the source of even more innovation in the future.

5 While the authors make an error on p. 108, stating that Khodzhaev "was condemned to death in 1937," on p. 160 they correctly note that he and Ikramov were sentenced at the 1938 Moscow trial. He was, however, arrested in 1937, at or just after the Uzbek party congress.

6 Compare the two articles making Khodzhaev's rehabilitation: Izvestia, May 25, 1966; and Pravda Vostoka, May 27, 1966.

The analysis of social class and population data applied by Bennigsen and Lemercier-Quelquejay verifies the structural integration of the Moslem intelligentsia within the broad framework of Soviet society (whereas language data raise some questions regarding the integration of the native masses). But it may be a deceptive guide to attitudes and may lead us to underestimate the existence of national and ethnic loyalities in a new guise. The Moslem elite's search for native roots may, for example, take the form of "local patriotism." Having forced the creation of a "Soviet-Moslem intelligentsia" in order to bypass nationalism and to assure allSoviet integration, Moscow may yet find that it has provoked a series of new problems. The observations of Geoffrey Wheeler strike to the heart of Moscow's dilemma:

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The days of the Jihad, of the Holy War against the unbelievers, may be over, but in the Soviet Muslim intellectual of today-an intellectual largely of communism's own creation -the Russians are encountering a resistance more subtle, elusive and more determined than they bargained for. This Muslim intellectual may be and often is a person of high scientific attainments, he may even be a vinced Communist; but he may yet remain a Muslim at heart, a Muslim, moreover, technically, mentally and spiritually far better fitted to undertake the independent government of his own people than the rulers of many former colonial Muslim countries of whose independence the Soviet government is such an eager advocate. This silent but persistent struggle is sensed, if not thoroughly comprehended, by the Soviet authorities, and observation of its progress constitutes an enthralling study.

for symbols linking the intelligentsia with the Moslem masses and separating it from the rest of the Soviet intelligentsia. Industrialization by itself may bring the engineers and technicians to accept integration within a multinational Soviet society; but it will also breed its own problems. For instance, what ethnic and political tensions will ensue when Uzbek, Tadjik and Kirghiz emerge from school armed with new skills only to find Russians and Ukrainians blocking mobility and occupying key positions? Just as Western colonialism had the "white man's burden," Moscow's colonial rationale has involved a sort of "Russian-Bolshevik burden." In the past the Russian presence could be justified in part on a technical as opposed to a politicalbasis, since the native Asians lacked the sophistication to manage a complex, developing society. But skills and education are no longer the monopoly of the Russians, and it is easy for the natives to see "colonialism" in the continued Russian dominance. The "revolution of rising expectations" was never simply an economic phenomenon; the mounting challenge to political power forced Western Europe to divest itself of its colonial possessions. Moscow may yet be confronted with the dilemma of either granting full power to the native elite or risking alienation, as the visible Russian presence becomes increasingly a focus of local unrest.

But despite these suggestive parallels, it would be foolhardy to expect in Soviet Central Asia a repetition of the disintegration of Western colonialism. Moscow displays its power by making and breaking political cadres at will, and it is alert to the least manifestation of independence. One cannot forget that the Soviets have fought to create a loyal, responsive native elite; it is hardly likely that the upper echelons of the Central Asian parties are sorely disaffected. Yet the dynamics of ethnic allegiance are far from charted. Strong national ties often disappear only to reappear unexpectedly. The Chinese, Polish and Rumanian developments should remind us that, contrary to Soviet claims, the "socialist transformation" does not eliminate national loyalty but instead may well revitalize it. In the Central Asian case, it is possible that advancing socialism may even create a new stimulus for the emergence of nationalist sentiment.

Donald S. Carlisle

EDWARD ALLWORTH, Ed.: Central Asia: A Century of Russian Rule, New York and London, Columbia University Press, 1967.

THE AIM OF this handsome volume is evidently to present a comprehensive picture of how the Muslim peoples of the four present-day Central Asian and Kazakh republics of the Soviet Union have fared under Russian rule during the past century. The contributors are six highly qualified specialists: the editor, Edward Allworth, writes on literature, the intelligentsia and history; Hélène Carrère d'Encausse on history; Karl Menges on people and languages; I. M. Matley on population, the land and the economy; Johanna Spector on music; and Arthur Sprague on architecture and art. The result is a wealth of carefully documented information. Understandably, much of this material is not original, having been drawn from earlier works by the contributors. The chapters on music and architecture, however, break new ground.

Professor Allworth's exceptional knowledge of Central Asian languages and literature have enabled him to impart a unique flavor and sympathy to his own contribution, and the attempt made throughout the book to see the problem from the native rather than from the Russian or Western viewpoint is wholly laudable. However, the unfamiliar and inconsistent systems of transliteration from Central Asian languages require explanation, particularly for geographical names. Not everyone will identify Jambil and Qazali with the spellings Dzhambul and Kazalinsk found on all American and British maps.

The lack of an introduction explaining the plan of the book, and of a final chapter setting forth some of the conclusions to be derived from the rich store of factual, objective material which it contains, is somewhat unusual. It may be that the editor wanted readers to draw their own conclusions. He may have kept in mind the Soviet complaint that so-called objective Western writing on Central Asia is more often than not anti-Soviet.

Assuming that the book is primarily directed at readers seeking a general assessment of the effects of Russian rule, an introduction and a conclusion could have explained the reason for certain unexpected omissions from the otherwise comprehensive material. For

example, the historical section does not go beyond 1938, thus neglecting important events during and after World War II; treatment of Soviet linguistic policy is confined to a mere two pages in Professor Menges' scholarly section on peoples, languages and migrations; the nature of the nationalities policy and the Soviet administrative system are hardly touched upon; there is no mention of the great advance in public health and in the standard of living; and perhaps most surprising of all, there is no section devoted to the RusIsian and Soviet attitudes towards Islam as a religion. Still, the relative importance of various aspects and results of colonial rule is surely a matter of opinion, and these omissions may well be deliberate.

ELIZABETH E. BACON: Central Asians under Russian Rule: A Study in Culture Change. Ithaca, Cornell University Press, 1966.

THE FIRST CHAPTERS of Central Asians under Russian Rule describe the land, history and traditional culture of the nomad and oasis peoples of the two geographical areas now constituting the Kazakh SSR and the four SSR's of Soviet Central Asia. In the remainder of the study, Professor Bacon examines in depth the effect of Tsarist and Soviet cultural policies on the peoples in these areas.

Early in her academic career Professor Bacon did specialized study on the nomadic culture of the Kazakhs, visiting Leningrad and Alma-Ata for this purpose in 1934. She has since been a student of Asian cultures in general, but only recently did she return to the subject of Central Asia. On her own admission she has had to rely on the research of other Western scholars for her examination of current conditions. Nevertheless, she has succeeded in producing a volume which is at once informative and lively, and likely to be of value to students embarking on a study of the region. The bibliography is useful although several important Soviet works on ethnography are missing.

It is too early to predict success or failure for the Soviet cultural experiment among the Muslim peoples of the USSR. Soviet assertions-now shrill, now wistful-about the love which the Muslims have conceived for socialism

and for the Russians, and about the extent to which they have adopted new work and living habits, are at least partially contradicted by evidence adduced from Soviet writing. One reason that achievement has not come up to Soviet expectation lies in the Muslims' passive resistance to what they recognize as a continuation of alien rule. Another reason, not mentioned by Professor Bacon, is that the national republics-which the Soviet regime intended to remain synthetic-are now acquiring a certain independent reality. So long as the states bordering on the Muslim republics were all militarily weak and unaggressive, this problem was not serious; but the emergence along an 1800mile frontier of a strong and hostile China has forced the Soviet government to exercise much more caution in its attitude towards national consciousness, which is still very much alive among the Muslim minorities.

Since 1960, when Sino-Soviet differences first became acute, there has been renewed emphasis on the processes of sblizhenie (drawing closer) and sliianie (blending), which are eventually to lead to the creation of a unitary multinational state and thus to the abolition of nations within the USSR. Such a prospect can have little appeal for the Muslim minorities, and the Soviet authorities may be wondering whether by too much insistence on cultural regimentation they may well forfeit the Muslims' somewhat precarious loyalty. It would perhaps be unfair to expect such political considerations to be treated in a book of this kind; but the use in the final paragraph of the nonexistent Russian word sblizhnost suggests that the author may not be familiar with much of recent Soviet writing on the subject of the liquidation of national distinctions, including those of frontier and language.

HÉLÈNE CARRÈRE D'ENCAUSSE: Réforme et Révolution chez les Musulmans de l'Empire Russe: Bukhara 1867-1924. Preface by Maxime Rodinson. Paris, Armand Colin, 1966.

THE CONTINUED VITALITY of Islam is one of the most difficult problems which Soviet communism has had to face, and one which is still far from solution. Lenin realized better than most the strength of traditional senti

ment, but even he underestimated the passive resistance presented by an ideology so closely bound up, in Maxime Rodinson's words, "with life's daily round, the warmth of the paternal hearth, the emotions of childhood, the triumphs, the pain and the bitterness of maturity." During the years of Soviet rule there has been much resignation and bowing to the inevitable on the part of the Muslims, but little acquiescence or renunciation.

Madame Carrère d'Encausse has focussed her attention on the principality of Bukhara. After describing conditions there prior to the establishment of Russian power in 1868 and the first gropings towards reform, she examines the growth of the Jadid movement under the Tsars, and its subsequent suppression by the Soviet regime. The movement originated among the Tatars of European Russia, then spread to Russian Turkestan and the still quasi-independent state of Bukhara. The Jadids stood primarily for social and cultural reform; and at first their aims seemed identical with those of the Bolsheviks. Two or three years of initial cooperation with the Soviet regime resulted in the overthrow of the ruling dynasty and the creation in 1921 of the People's Republic of Bukhara, under what amounted to a Jadid government. It soon became evident, however, that from the Soviet point of view the Jadids were "mauvais coucheurs:" they were interested neither in the class war nor in Soviet culture; moreover, as Madame Carrère d'Encausse emphasizes, the Jadid movement, in spite of its iconoclastic and modernist tendencies, was essentially Muslim in both origin and outlook. For example, the constitution of the Bukhara republic, like that of many modern Muslim states, scrupulously avoided anything which ran counter to the fundamental ideology of Islam. It was this more than anything else which resulted in the liquidation of the People's Republic and its absorption in 1924 into the newly formed Uzbek and Tadjik Soviet Socialist Republics. In due course all the Jadid leaders were repudiated, and many executed. The fact that in recent years some of them have been posthumously rehabilitated is a clear indication that the Soviet regime recognizes the need to assuage remaining Muslim resentment. It is noteworthy, however, that rehabilitation has not so far been extended to such avowedly anti-Russian Muslim patriots as 'Abdur-Rauf Fitrat and Mustafa Chokay.

THIS COMPILATION of chapter-articles, however uneven in quality, constitutes a significant contribution to the study of Baltic history. The editor has written four of the eleven entries. His "Independent Lithuania: A Profile" is certainly the best brief account in English of the period in question, and hist style and scholarly balance would be difficult to improve upon.

Vardys' concluding chapter, "Soviet Social Engineering in Lithuania." is equally impressive. In it the editor dispassionately evaluates Soviet efforts to establish Communist social mores and institutions and to bring about the evolution of a "new Soviet man" in Lithuania. Lithuanians have so far had little difficulty resisting the most stultifying aspects of the Sovietization process, but that fact alone, Vardys warns, does not preclude the eventual destruction of the "conditions under which it is still possible to resist indoctrination and Russification." "This could happen if Lithuanians were reduced to a minority in their own country . . . [which]

Power: The Communist Party and the Soviet Government," for one, and Pranas Zunde's "Lithuania's Economy: Introduction of the Soviet Pattern." Remeikis provides a penetrating analysis of the dynamics of Communist power in a Russian-dominated nation, lucidly depicting the complex relationship of older to younger Lithuanian Communists, on the one hand, and of the Lithuanian party members as a group to the Russians in the Lithuanian party, on the other. The Russians evidently serve as watchdogs against the possible revival of nationalist tendencies. Remeikis calls the post-Stalin group of Communists the "new class." Essentially technocrats, they have been favored by the Soviet regime, and by 1960 they made up over 40 percent of the party. "Mostly under forty," they matured "in somewhat stabilized political circumstances and never had to fight for communism. They grew up in a climate of resurging cultural nationalism and normalization of party and government activity. Most importantly, they did not have to be anti-Lithuanian," as did the youth of the postwar years, "who grew up during an intense struggle between communism and nationalism, and for whom communism and nationalism were mutually exclusive."

In his article Zunde recounts the widespread peasant resistance to forcible collectivization. He also depicts most vividly the manner in which Moscow has integrated the economy of Lithuania with that of the Soviet Union, thus distorting that small country's course of economic development and, in effect, manipulating Lithuania like a colonial possession.

Simas Suziedelis' introductory chapter, "Lithuania from Medieval to Modern Times,” is too sketchy and too nationally biased to be included in this otherwise excellent collection.

Stanley W. Page

BEN AMI: Between Hammer and Sickle. Philadelphia, The Jewish Publication Society of America, 1967.

AS THE SITUATION of the Jews in the Soviet Union has excited the interest and indignation of outsiders, a number

of "personal reports" on Soviet Jewry have appeared. Based like most of these on a sampling of the author's experiences in the USSR, Between Hammer and Sickle is an example of how much solid material can be fitted into the best of this genre.

Mr. Ben Ami (a pseudonym chosen by the Israeli author) begins with the Soviet image of the Jew, for this is the basis of the Soviet policy towards them. The Soviet authorities, says the author, view the Jews as both different from other ethnic groups in the USSR (almost entirely urbanized, and not identified with a specific territory) and essentially alien (with an emotional interest in values that are foreign to Soviet ideology and, because of their many relatives outside the country, mostly in America and Israel, potentially disloyal). This perception of the Jew as alien is mainly a hangover from bouts of virulent antisemitism, which has grown almost unchecked in the Soviet Union since the 1920's, after a brief period when the government tried to combat it. As recently as 1963, it manifested itself in the campaign against economic crimes (see article by Z. Gitelman elsewhere in this issue). The familiar hallucinations of a Jewish world government have not been challenged, and new myths have supplemented the old images-in Ben Ami's words of the "crafty-and-fraudulentJew" and the "Jew-as-Satanic-genius." (Mr. Ben Ami recounts, for example, the widespread rumor that the Jews of Israel have discovered a cure for cancer. Despite his denial, some insisted that the Israelis had cured the now deceased Soviet party leader, N.M Shvernik, for $50,000!)

With this sort of nonsense in mind, Soviet officials dare not allow the Jews to assimilate because a Jew, even with a different name and nationality, would remain "Jewish at heart" and at the same time would be more difficult to control by administrative means. The author adds that most Soviet Jews have accepted the view that a mere change in nationality would not eradicate their Jewishness. Their acceptance reflects the extent to which the Soviet Jews' self-image has been conditioned by their isolation within the Soviet Union, and the fact that they also are realistic about the depth of the moat that has been dug around them. In this way Mr. Ben Ami illustrates the frightening thoroughness of the Soviet identification of any Jew with all Jews, and of all Jews with

Zionism and imperialism-that is, with "the enemy."

In local Soviet policy toward the Jews, the attitude of the central authority, not its supposed monolithic power, is decisive. Despite Khrushchev's repudiation of Stalinist practices, he continued to tolerate repression of Jewish cultural and religious organs and thus set the tone for the local administrations with whom the Jews must deal. Ben Ami describes the Soviet town officials as poorly-educated, eager to prove their zeal and to follow the party line without sensing any individual responsibility, their consciences dulled by traditional native antisemitism.

Ben Ami later applies this appreciation of the role of local officials to explain the tolerance that surrounds the Georgian, Mountain (Daghestani) and Bukharan Jews, who number nearly a quarter of a million. Descendants of tribes that fled Palestine after the destructions of the first and second Temples, these Jews were dispersed through the Caucasus and Central Asia. According to the author, they were thus more influenced by the local cultures, until in dress and customs they became almost indistinguishable. Two millenia of residence and their acceptance by the native populations and by the dominant churches of these areas have also contributed to their present status. Contrasting their history with that of Western Russian Jews, the author argues that the Oriental Jews "performed normal and basic functions" in their societies and in addition, because of their small numbers, they were "less conspicuous than their Ashkenazi [East European] brothers."

But the missing half of Ben Ami's explanation rests on the relative backwardness of the areas where the Oriental Jews reside. For it is within the extended family unit, still a patriarchy, that the Jewish heritage is transmitted. Mr. Ben Ami does not relate the fact that ten to twenty members of a family ordinarily dine together to the existence of individual homes in which this is possible. The crowded housing and lack of privacy common to large Western Soviet cities are not yet true of the areas inhabited by the Oriental Jews. Nor has the traditional family unit been broken up by the same crowding and by the need for mobility to secure higher education and better jobs as it has been in the urban centers of Western Russian Jewry.

In the three large Central Asian Re

publics, Ashkenazi Jews, having fled the Nazis, have mixed with the native Bukharan Jews, who now blame them for having infected the Uzbeks with antisemitism. Ben Ami links this new bigotry to the racial tension and rivalry between the Uzbek half of the population and the Russian-Ukrainian half. Both halves, he says, regard the Jews as competitors. "The Bukharan Jews thus find themselves, for the first time, placed in the 'classical' position of the rest of Soviet Jewry"-between the Russian authorities and the "national majority of the Republic."

Although Mr. Ben Ami is modest about the "collective and cumulative nature" of the book, his ability to apply restraint and reason to a sensitive subject, and spirit to a broad range of inquiry, makes this a fine study of Soviet Jewry.

Rosalind Vee Avnet

Christians in Russia

MICHAEL BOURDEAUX: Opium of the People: The Christian Religion in the USSR. Indianapolis, Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1966.

MICHAEL BOURDEAUX, an Anglican priest, spent a year in the Soviet Union as a British exchange scholar and made several visits there afterward. What he presents here is a series of vignettes on the history and contemporary position of religion in the USSR, organized chiefly around his observations of people and places, and supplemented by a few lengthy extracts from published sources. This is not a systematic survey, and it does not pretend to be; the author does not treat Judaism or Islam, and he found it difficult to locate, let alone to hold extended conversations with, members of the Russian Orthodox clergy or seminary students. Nevertheless, his book is informative and often highly revealing. Though writing on a topic where luridness and hysteria are place, Mr. Bourdeaux keeps his head. His main message is that there exists within the Soviet Union a wide spectrum of religious outlooks. He encountered aged women who devoted their lives to the church, giving so generously of their miserable incomes

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as to embarrass the church with "too much money"-i.e., more than it could usefully spend within the restrictions of Soviet law. (The regime is, of course, quite ready to turn this fact to its own purposes.) But not all of the believers are old women. He saw many young people in the churches: indeed, one of the most interesting chapters in the book deals with the range of religious attitudes among university students and recent graduates.

At one extreme was the young man who said he had been "converted to Christianity" in 1953, during his last year at Leningrad University, and was married to a woman, a graduate of the same institution, who shared his convictions. Other professionals and students also found Soviet life spiritually unsatisfying but had no access, physical or psychological, to anything which could make up for the lack they felt. "No, I don't believe in God," a teacher told him, "but I often wish I could." Others enjoyed religious ceremonials without feeling any need for the doctrines, provoking the regime to try to provide substitute secular ceremonies. Still others displayed a "condescending tolerance 'You can't help being a Christian,'" they would say, 'because it's part of your capitalist heritage.' And finally, there were those who had only "aggressive scorn" for religious beliefs, who simply seemed unable to believe that an educated person might actually want to be a priest. With respect to some of these, Mr. Bourdeaux says it was "impossible to judge how far their attitude was a piece of play-acting

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an exaggerted pose adopted to cover inner unresolved doubts, or how far it was a genuine characteristic of the ideal Communist man."

The range of outlooks is hardly narrower among church officials themselves. Some priests, monks, and nuns had remained stubbornly devout in the face of great suffering. On the other hand, Father Mikhail of Moscow (later Archbishop Kiprian) spoke with casual pride of his car, his dacha, and his salary of 700 rubles a month (and also of his "mistrust" toward the Baptists), and made such remarkable statements as these: "... with the world triumph of communism, a united Christian Church will automatically come into being... the Communist Party does what [the monks] were quite unable to do. . . . It does it more effectively, too, because the sincerity of its members is obvious to everyone."