Alexander Solzhenitsyn: The Courage to be a Christian
Joseph Pearce
In these dark days in which the power of secular fundamentalism appears to be on the rise and in which religious freedom seems to be imperiled, it is easy for Christians to become despondent. The clouds of radical relativism seem to obscure the light of objective truth and it can be difficult to discern any silver lining to help us illumine the future with hope. In such gloomy times the example of the martyrs can be encouraging. Those who laid down their lives for Christ and His Church in worse times than ours are beacons of light, dispelling the darkness with their baptism of blood. “Upon such sacrifices,” King Lear tells his soon to be martyred daughter Cordelia, “the gods themselves throw incense.”
It is said that the blood of the martyrs
is the seed of the Church and, if this is so, more bloody seed has been
sown in the past century than in any of the bloody centuries that
preceded it. Tens of millions have been slaughtered on the blood-soaked
altars of national and international socialism in Europe, China,
Cambodia, and elsewhere. Today, in many parts of the world, millions
upon millions are being slaughtered in the womb in the name of
“reproductive rights.” In such a meretricious age the giant figure of
Alexander Solzhenitsyn emerges as a colossus of courage.
Born in Russia in 1918, only months
after the secular fundamentalists had swept to power in the Bolshevik
Revolution, Solzhenitsyn was brainwashed by a state education system
which taught him that socialism was just and that religion was the enemy
of the people. Like most of his school friends, he enslaved himself to
the zeitgeist, became an atheist and joined the communist party.
Serving in the Soviet army on the
Eastern Front during the Second World War he witnessed cold-blooded
murder and the raping of women and children as the Red Army took its
“revenge” on the Germans. Disillusioned, he committed the indiscretion
of criticizing the Soviet leader Josef Stalin and was imprisoned for
eight years as a political dissident. While in prison, he resolved to
expose the horrors of the Soviet system. Shortly after his release,
during a period of compulsory exile in Kazakhstan, he was diagnosed with
a malignant cancer in its advanced stages and was not expected to live.
In the face of what appeared to be impending death, he converted to
Christianity and was astonished by what he considered to be a miraculous
recovery.
Throughout the 1960s, Solzhenitsyn
published three novels exposing the secularist tyranny of the Soviet
Union and received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1970. Following the
publication in 1973 of his seminal work, The Gulag Archipelago, an exposé
of the treatment of political dissidents in the Soviet prison system,
he was arrested and expelled from the Soviet Union, thereafter living
the life of an exile in Switzerland and the United States. He finally
returned to Russia in 1994, after the collapse of the Soviet system.
In 1978, Solzhenitsyn caused great
controversy when he criticized the secularism and hedonism of the West
in his famous commencement address at Harvard University. Condemning the
nations of the so-called free West for being morally bankrupt, he urged
that it was time “to defend not so much human rights as human
obligations.” The emphasis on rights instead of responsibilities was
leading to “the abyss of human decadence” and to the committing of
“moral violence against young people, such as motion pictures full of
pornography, crime, and horror.” At the root of the modern malaise was
the modern philosophy of “rationalistic humanism or humanistic
autonomy,” which declared the “autonomy of man from any higher authority
above him.” Such a view “could also be called anthropocentricity, with
man seen as the centre of all.”
It is ultimately of little matter
whether the sickness that is slowly poisoning the West is given the
labels that Solzhenitsyn affixed to it, or whether we prefer to give it
the name of secular fundamentalism. The disease by any other name would
be as deadly. It is, furthermore, not merely destructive but
self-destructive. It has no long-term future. Although secular
fundamentalist “progressives” might believe in a future “golden age,”
such an age does not exist. The future that they herald is merely one of
gathering gloom and ever darkening clouds. It has ever been so for
those who proclaim their “Pride.” They have nothing to expect in the
future but their fall.
As for the Christian, he has nothing to
fear but his falling into the pride of despair. If he avoids becoming
despondent and retains his humility, he will receive the gift of hope
which is its fruit. Where there is hope there is the Way, the Truth and
the Life.
As we await the fall of the Obamanation,
we need to remember that the culture of death is a parasite. It does
not give life; it only destroys or corrupts it. Like all successful
parasites, it kills itself when it kills the host culture on which it
feeds. It is not merely deadly but suicidal. It is unsustainable. It
cannot survive. Let’s not forget that Hitler’s promise of a Thousand
Year Reich lasted only twelve years. In a similar vein, the communist
revolution which according to Marx would usher in the end of history, is
itself a ruined remnant of history. Little could Solzhenitsyn have
known when he languished as one of the many millions in the Soviet
prison system that he would outlive the Soviet system and, furthermore,
that his own courage would play an important part in that very system’s
collapse.
Returning to the imagery of gloom-laden
skies with which we began, we should remind ourselves that clouds and
the shadows they cast are transient. Evil is nihilistic, which is
another way of saying that it is ultimately nothing. It is only a
temporary blocking of the light. “Above all shadows rides the Sun,” as
the ever-humble Samwise Gamgee proclaims in The Lord of the Rings. Even in these dark days, as Solzhenitsyn reminds us, every cloud has a silver lining.