B.

PORSHNEV

SOCIAIJ PSYtHOI0GY
AND RISTO RY

PROGRESS PUBLISHERS
MOSCOW

COllleni.t

Page

Translated from the Russian by 1 \' a n S a ~' i n

Edited by Vic S c h n c i e rso n

Designed by

~1.

S h I () she r g

INTRODUCTION .

Chapter I. LENIN'S SCIENCE OF REVOLUTION

PSYCIIOLOGY
L

,.

4.
j.

6.
7.

A~D

SOCIAL

"

Closer to Life
Spontaneity and Consciou~ne,s
The Psychological Aspect ,f the Relationship Between
Vanguard "0 the M3sses

Summation of Revolutionary Sentiments .

From the First Russian Revolution to the Second

Post-Revolution Psychological Phenomena and Task,

Psychology and Revolutinn
.'

Chapter 11. WE AND TIIEY .

the

j.

""

47

,6
6,

(,'

Collective Psychology COllccivabk? .

2. From "1 nnd You" to "They alit! \Vlc"

}. Communities.
4. Ethnopsychology, Ethnic :lIld Archcologic:tl Culturc~ .
f.

",,

We .

("

G. Mood
7. You

Chapter III. COMMUNITY AND THE INDIVIDUAL"

74

9\

"7

'''''
'"

Intercour~c

Ii.

(I).

nOpwHeB

COlJ,J..1AIlbHASI nCJ..1X0J10rl-1S1 l-1 HCTOPvHi

Ha aHfnHi1CI<OM Sl3bll(e

4. Contagion:

Imitation

Authority .
6. Isolation o[ thc Pcrsoll,llity in Community
j.

Cbfl{J1CT IV. SOC IAL PSYCHOLOGY AND GENETIC PSYCIIOL

The History of Consciousness .

2. The Problem of Pre.Logical Thinking
}. Lower Level of Mental A(lions. "

T"

First printing 1970

Pril//{",l ill the U'

I SDvicl Socia/isl Ilr/mblics
mOil 0

120

nnd Su/:gestion .

OGY

'"

"9

and Identity
l. Can n Person:tlity Exist Outsi<lc Socicty?
3. Some Informntioll About Specch as a Mc;w s of IllIcrC,nJrsc
I.

"

ChaptN \I. \'(,'ORLD m:-;TORY AND SOCL\l PSYCIIOT.O('Y

I. S[,ln:rv ,lnJ Em:llldr,uill ll

.!. Ili,tory .1nJ J li,totics
}.

Pro~pnh

INTRODUCTION

,
,

Tn n.:(,;cnt .year:" prnhlcm~. of MH.:ial p")ltwlo).;y have again,

aft~r a long IIltL:rval, attracted the attention of Soviet :)lientilits.
This. rcne~'cd interest is prompted by fundamentally cognitive
consIdcratums and the practical tasks of communist education.
I~itiat discussions of the subject matter and the purposes of
Soviet Marxist-Leninist social psychology have somewhat abated.'
IJowever, it should not be construed that this young and
promising branch of scientific knowledge lacks different trends
and orientations. These arc as inevitable as in any other scientific
field; they will be judged by their merits, not their claims.
And one more point needs immediate clarification.
It is sometimes said that social psychology is not psychology,
but a branch of the theory of historical materialism studying
methodological problems or concrete facts of "eyeryday
consciousness" and "public opinion", and that as such it should
not be referred to psychologists, because it deals with
sociological rather than psychological Jaws. But why do the
proponents of this view cling to "psychology"? Chcmistry has
many bnlnches, each defined by a corresponding epithet
(p hysical chemistry, colloidal chemistry, radiation chemistry,
biochemistry, chemistry of high molecular compounds) . Who
would evcr think of saying that any of them is not chemistry?
In brief, the antagonists of social psychology would do well to
find a more appropriate name for their particular spherc of
Illterest.
"Public opinion", "ideological struggle" and other sim ilar
categories are related to social consciousness in the broad sense,
and belong to psychology but partiy. When Western authors
write of "psychological wariare" they refer chiefly to ideological
rather than ps~'chological struggle.
1 See Probh'fllv (lbshchCJit'CIIIIOi p.,ikbo!ogi; (Problcms of Social Psychol.
ogy) ed. by V.' N. Kolhaoonky aod B. F. porshnc\', Mosc?\\", 19?!.
summarisio~ the first sta~e of discussions; see aho B. D: P;lr)'~IO. ~OfS1al11(1)"(/ psikiJ%gi)'a Iwk 11m/kif (Soci:!1 Psychology as a SCience). LefllograJ.
196 , .

Social psychology is part of psycholo!!y. That is the first point

that should be made dear. As with chemistry, various epithets
and definitions may be added to delimit the di sci pline, with
psychology remaining generic.
Attempts to bar psychologists fmm social psyc hology arc
traceable to the fear of psychologising laws underlyin g sOlial
[clatiom. But social laws can be psychologised only if an
intention for doing so exists and no reliable kn owledge is
available about specific laws !!overning the existence and
development of society. Soviet soci al science has the creative
school of Marxism-Leninism to back it, and is today in no rea l
danger of being biologised or psychologised, just as th e postDarwin biological science is not endangered by chemistry or
physics interfering with laws specific to life a nd its evolution.
Only the most backward biologist would turn his hack on
chemistry and physics, for they are contiguous with biol ogy.
Similarly, those fearing psychologisation of objective economic
laws may be told: do not psychologise them, but concem
yourself with psychology, just as a biochemist will not
chemicalise Darwin's purely biological law of natural selection.
These sciences do not exclude each other.
One should not shy away from the fact that mode m
psychology has a firm basis in natural science. Spiritual pcocesses
and psychics are related to the physiology of the higher nervous
acti\ity. When we say "social psychology" we say "psychology"
and hence refer to a science related to the laws governing the
work of the brain and the nervous system.
All concepts of psychology without physiology arc unscientific
and anti-scientific, being contrary to present-day knowledge,
including the physiological teaching of Ivan Pavlov. A sound
understanding of the mechanism of the human brain,
particularly of the "second signal system". will discourage
attempts to build Soviet social psychology on anything other

than psychology.
Social psychology, like psychology geneeaJly, is a laege field
contiguous with historiology and biology.
, ~~guste. Comte, t~e positivist, said flippantly that the
Indl\'ldua\ IS, first, a bIOlogical essence, the subject of physiology
and, second, a social essence, the subject of sociology,
bei ng therefore confined to these two causal series.
The late Henri Wallon, psychologist and member of the
French Communist Party, who died in 196z, complained that
6

man y collsida hif,I/~g> and !\()ciology poles apart and pSlfchnlngy

an ap pendage to hlology or a vc~tibule to social H:icnce or a
scie ntifi c hybrid. I Marxi~t dialectics, Wallon pointed out, 'show!<
that psychology is simultaneously a biological and a soci~1
science, the study of man as one with his environment, of the
constant interaction of man and his environment and of the
social strugg le which determines man's personality.:!
This general definition is aho valid for ;ocial psytho!ogy, a
promising marginal field merging with two major modern

:;clences.
The rel a tion of sotial psychology to so-called genera l
psychology, or psychology of the individual, i~ much harder to
define. But thi s is, so to say, an internal matter.
The teml "social psychology" may be used not only in the
special, but a lso in the broader general methodological sense.
In the latter case psychics is social, being largely conditioned
by the soc io-historical environment 3 ; in the more narrow special
sense, social psychology deal s with the psychical activity of men
in a group, in the mass environment, as disti~ct r0I? the
individual's psychology in relative solitude or 10 relatIOn to
another individual.
It is still debatable whether we should consider Marxist soc ial
psychology (in the special sense) a psychology of th7 ":,e.comJ
order", i.e. , marginal to the psychology of the Indl\:ldual
(genera l psychology) . Is ~he psychical interaction of m:n .10 a~
environment secondarv, I.e., supplementary to the p.S) chlCs 0
each individu al, or a~e socio~psychical phenomena primary and
deeper than the individual psychics?
.
..
.
That the individual is himself socIal milItates. for SOCI3\
psychology which may one day prove to be more baSIC a~d more
"general" ~han "general psychology". One day, pc~haps, It alon~
w ill answer to the name of psychology. But t.hat IS a matter d
the remote futurc. Marxist social psychology IS ver), young alll
it is still too carly to predict its future. ~or the mome~t, tIC
various branches of psychologr are. competlllg fo~ pre~em ll1ence:
The debate does not concern c1asstficatlOn of SCIences as such,
it is an internal rivalry.
. ""J.ltCri:l li ~ mc dialccciquc". Sotit'la. Giu~no
I II. \'(' :1l1on, "p'}( I10 IO~le
19P , p. 1 ~ 3
~ Ibid., p. ~46.
..
f>.<ik!Jiki (Problem, vi
3 Sec A. N. I.conlye\, I'roblclII\' r,,;:.nIlYI/ ,.
p,}dlin D c\,clllpmcnt). !I1~1 CII.. MO\({lw, 19{,j

, 11
1 " 'c 11 S,"r.:il'l1lC. The
Social psychology is c!.scnWl Y :1 IlS on ,
historical aspect is as mue h 'Its corners on~ . s. the material
, 1 actn"tty,
"
l(H' It studies thl'
physiological basis of psyc 1UC<l

,:1'

changing man.

. ' . . . . ..... R
'
Addressing the loth Intcrn<ltloll<li IIl stOl.~ O~n~Il:~s 111 om\.:
,
P pc Pius XII said: "Thc terlll ' llIStOfl C\SIll deno tes;l
In I9n.
0
..,
. ,"
t
".
philosophical system which espIes 11\ .all S[uotua .actlvlty,
cognition, religion, morality and law nodllng but Cn)\utIOI1, and
therefore rejects c\'crything immutable, absolute. and of ctc[l1~1
\a\uc. This system is, of course, inco[l1patibl~ with thc Catholic
outlook and with any religion that admIts of a personal
God,"
That historicism is incompatible with religion is absolutely
true. There is nothing constant in man except his anatomy and
physiology (including, of course, the brain), common to homo
sapiens. But the specific nature of man is that the functioning
of this constant basis varies in its higher manifestations; it
varies so greatly, in fact, that the functions may even turn into
their opposites to keep abreast of the changes and transforma~
tions in socio~historical relations. The brain is the same, while
content of consciousness and of the operations of the brain
differ irrespective of any organic changes. The brain can
operate according to different, even opposite, functional
systems. Many nervous diseases are not diseases in the na[[oW
sense and not caused by either infection or organic or chemical
disorders of the nerve tissue. The criterion distinguishing the
normal from the pathological state is purely socio~historical.
Some conditions now considered pathological were not classed
as such in past centuries and, conversely, individuals recognised
~s normal now would have been put in institutions for the
Insane or for criminals in the past. How the brain works
"normally" is determined not by the natural environment but
by the s~ci~l,1 meaning that higher nervous activity is gov~rned
by the. pnnClple of historicity.
~oclal psycholog~ an~ historiology are therefore associated.
~e chauhsal rela~lons~lp between social being and conscious~
ness IS t e .ub of .h,storlcal materialism.
That social being determines consciomness is a key principle

I 'Sec
M. Foucault , Fro/,',
" d'
,
(
"
crOISOIl'
bis/oirc
I
(tlmqltc
XVI/XVIII jiecles) , P'
6
'
ans, 19 l.

(Ie

in

folic

Ii

l'iige

~JP'7nill)!; lip I:nd1css asprc of .the ;cicnce of f,;oclal development.

] h.ls shfl.lIlt! he comlCn.:hcnslvciy explained. blJth from the
pllllosopl ll (<11 :1I1d (oncrett historical point~ of view.
';X'hat e want tl: knl'w is. how and in what I.pecific ways
sou a l hl'mg: d<:t!.::rmlllcs (f)OSC(fJUsness. The fallacy of economic
matcriali 'im is that it ovcrlooks subjective factors in human
history. Yet far from rcjecting the subjective, the Marxist
discovery of the objective requires an explanation of the former
as well.
Social psych()lo~y studjc~ the most subjective a~pect of the
suhjective, i.e., the historically changing psychics of man.
Do historians describe and analyse psychics? Unfortunately,
only few do. Yet history without psychics is history without live
men. It is history " d ehumanised". Treatises on the history of
the labour movement describe the economic situation of the
workers and contain statistical data and information concerning
their numbers, the strikes, working~class organisatio ns and
parties, and the ideological struggle. Very little is seen in tbe~
of the workers. A deep-going study of the workers as such IS
usually lacking ; what we get in lieu of historical materialism
is a sort of behaviourism: a study of the external conduct of
the workers and no hint as to their psychology.
.
Here and there, it is true, one may encounter psycholog~cal
sketches of groups or of epochs. But as a ~ule the psychologICal
analysis concerns only indiyidual histOrical characters and
amounts to a psychological portrait rather than psychology as

:v

a sCience.
hi' 1 d
Historians are behind in their study of ~he ps?,~ 0 oglca an.
, '
f
,Ye'
ani)' lOco[(lglble economIc
subjective aspects 0 mass ac s.
~ ."
h I
materialists say that filling t.his ?ap would ;~ult lOb pS~f 0 ~~
is in .. history. Genuine hlstonology shou
pro. e ~
t e
g g f
I'
d study the specific laws go\'ernlllg dIfferent
. ' 'k
. f ct
aspects 0 rca Ity an
levels and sides of man's social hfe. Lent? s wor s ~rc a p~r e
both the dynamICS of pubhc sentIment
dy
t
examp 1e 0 f 1lOW to s U I
h f
of
',o
psycholooicat
facts
wit
lOut t c
car
soc an d otlce
e>
I
"psychologising" .th<:m..
kI
. deed come to the notice
The lack of tillS 10 their wor }3S, III
,
of historinn s.
I
this book deals with
The aforesaid docs not ~can t l.at psychology to variolls
l
concrete methods of applylOg socla aI" ",ch methods we
k
,
f
1',
ry To wor
concrete suhjects 0 liS 0 :
.
.
would need :l spc;ciai theoretlcal111qUlry.
9

No cut-anti -dri ed prescriptio ns n ; ~t o f how to l:mploy soc.1I

psrcholo~)' in modern hi story. l lnq un tin nahly. it ultim;ul.:
purpose is to assist in the m()uldin ~ of t ltl! new man of the
communist society, fo r in the fin;,1 ((Iu nt the usefulness of ~()(ial
ps),choiol:lY will be measured by it" d()scnc~s to li fe, its usefu l_
ness to communist construction . Thi s docs no t o hviatc the need
for a profound theoretical fountbtion . lt s efficacy will be
superficial without a scientific srstc rn , withou t a dear clwjdation of the simple clements, o( the ini ti,ll id eas, a nd without
generalisation s related to th e fo undation itself. T here i\
nothing mo(c annoying than the practi e.,1 wo rkers \vho, eager
to get ahead, brush aside the theoreti cal a spect. MarxistLeninist social psychology will not cope with its tasks. unless
it operates as a genuine science and docs no t rel y o n bare
~peculation,

However. social psychology elaborated by psycho log ists and

historians i~ relation, to the past is , a gigantic labora to ry to study
and c~eck Ideas \".11Ich we, need In our contempora ry practice,
Mou,ldtng commumst relatIOns and bringing up the new man
rcqUire not only current observations and recommendatio ns, but
?Iso fundamental im'cstigation, Our interest in the fundam entals
]~ also prompted by the complex subjective cleme nt in the social
~tru~glc in the capitalist countries and the young nationa l states ,
Fhos~ who want a truly Marxist social psychology should bear
~n n:Hnd tha~ the deeper the foundation is laid. the morc endurmg IS the ed]bce,
.It remains, for the author to add that he has by-pa ssed the
dllef trends In contemporary Westcrn social psychology The,'
arc numcro~s" their ideas and methods arc varicd,l' Thci'r
comdo~~r~lt IS ~hat they arc not social in the full sense of the
wor ,',
belr subject mattcr is not human societies and commUI1i~]es~ ut ,aggregates of individuals,
ThIS book I~ exposition of ,'dcas about t IlC aut hor's attempts
to Ii nd an altogether different approach.

I R~comrnended reading nn the: ~ubjec t

Internayonal Con~res, of P>ycho[o~ists in ,Ire the Procecdillgs of t~le 11th

the chief theoretical i~,ues rna b
. I Moscow. An adequate Ide:\ of
sru:iale, Choix de textes fon'lam~nt~;lme(p r~orn: A Levy, La PHcbolog;,'
an,' 196, A mong t IIe re ""'
ux,
~('n('ra , nut mes aho ~ee: 1M'
N
'Qu
~;).i>, jc~"
19(,' ~I~O~ . e:llve, f..n PSycbologic sod ale (C{lll.
" ) , Parj ~
19{)) ,
'
'4"
. tnetzel, ,,(/ p-r)'dJ/l/flJ.',ie Jt){;((/(' , P.lris,

(ha/I/('r

LENIN'S SCIENCE OF REVOLUTION

AND SOCIA L PSYCHOLOGY '

1, CLOSER TO LIFE

V, L Lenin cnj()[ncd the re\'olutionary, the CommunI't,

to

di splay a "sober approach and fervent dedication".:!

M a rxism is a strictly scientific conception of the laws and
processes of social life, It is a unity of abstra,ct thou~ht and
concrete knowledge, It is a dream and a passion at onc and
the same ti me. "We should dream! I wrote these words a nd
became alarmcd," Lenin wrote in What Is To Bt' Done? ~e
pictured a stcrn Social-Democrat ask.in~ him: "H~s a MarxI't
any right a t all to dream . knowin,g that accord 109 to Ma,rx
mankind a lways sets itself thc task~ It can soh'~ and that tacuc~
is the process o f growth of Party prob-'em~ :vhlCh grow, to~et~er
with the P arty?" Lenin an~wered thiS dlfhcult que~t1on \\ ~th
a quotation from Pisarcy about naturalness and the necesslt~
of a certain gap between realitr and th~ antecedent dream, for
othcrwisc onc cannot imagine what mot~"c would spu~ ~a~'fto
consummate his great works in art, sCle~ce or practlc~, ] e.
"The rift between dreams a nd real,itr." P~sare\' w~ote, . ~u~:s
'f onl)' the person dreaming believes se (]ousl~ 10 , ]S
no Ilarm I
rf
h's observations
dream if he attenth'cly observes I C, compares ],
h '
k
w ith \;is ca stles in the air. and if, general,l), spe~klngI' f \ wcr ,5
, I f
I
chie\'ement of hiS fa ncIes,
t ere ]s
conscientIOu s y or t\e ad
d I'f then all is well ," And
'
between
reams
an
I e,'
,
t
some con'~cc IOn
, " Of h' k ind of d reamin,i:!; there ]s
here LeOin concludes,
t IS
":1
,
I
'
1O,'ement
'
unfortunatcl~' toO I Itt e ]0 our n I ' a materialisation of the
The millcnnl :1. of hunu n Cll ture arc . b "
I d if only by
bncics th:lt. ~i\' cn intense fen'or :1.nd so nct y. e ,

11

"

, "-

".

.....

,
-

l\.

~l-:

a frail thread, to reality. The other drC;ltllS wlbpsnl. A sculptor

or architect sc[utinisc~ and ponder" till: fI,HlLra\ propcftiL'S of
stone until he finds the thread linkinf! his boey with rc,llitv.
Only then docs his fancy find a final an~1 dear <.::\pn,,~sif)n. Tlow
much morc formidable than all of man s other crcatl\c ,w.:om
rlishmcnts was his desire to remake both ~o(i~1 life and himself.
It took precise and lucid knowledge to hong IIlto focus ahstract
economic laws and all other angles approximating to the reality,
including human sentiment.
Lenin was not a professional psychologist, though he reacted
swiftly and accurately to Scchcnov's works on psychology in his
own book, What the "Friends 0/ tbe People" Are and How
They Fight the Social-Democrals.
"He, the scientific psychologist," wrote Lenin, "has discarded
philosophical theories of the soul and set about making a direct
study of the material substratum of psychical phenomena-the
nervous process."l Lenin observed that everybody was talking
about Sechenov's radically new approach to psychology and his
successful analysis of previously inexplicable psychological
processes. This shows that Lenin followed the foremost materialist trends of Russian psychology. But he was a psychologist in
a different sense-to the extent to which the proletarian revolution, the cause of the Party required a clear and living
knowledge of the soul of the people. Failing that no full
appraisal was possible at every specific hour of thc balance of
the revolutionary force s. Of prime importance to psychologists
is thc fact that Lenin has sprinkled hi s works with a vast
variety of sober, yet often enthusiastic and admiring observations
bearing on the frame of mind, psychical change and state of
\'arious strata of society at diffcrent pcriods.
Legal Marxists and Menshevik Social-Democrats referred
frequently to the psychology of various classes and social groups.
But strangely enough their attention was drawn almost entirely
to those points in social psychology which were indicative, in
!heir opinion, of th~ lack of socio-psychological prerequisites for
ImmedIate revolutlOnary action. Their theoretical schemes
blinded them to everything else. Important in this respect is
Lenin's dispute with Struve over whether there were the aforesaid "socio-psychical conditions"2 for a revolution in Russia.
V. I. Lenin. Collected Work<. Vol.
2 Ihid., V,,1. 8. p. , ,0.
t

12

'.

--

'-

./

.- ."-.-"-

,
.

-.

"-.

--

.",

"

, ,.,

Struve opposed the slogan calling for an armed uprlSmg on

the grt)und~ that only ma$S propaganda of the democratic
progl'amnu..: could create the necessary socio-ps},chol(Jgic;1\ con
ditions for it. Lenin explained that liuch an attitude at a time
when the revolution had already begun meant a retreat bent!fit~
ing nonc but the liberal bourgeoisie. "Just as in the Fmnkfort
Parliament of J 848," he explained, "the bourgeois windbags
were busy drawing up resolutions, declarations, and decisions,
engaging in 'mass propaganda' and preparing the 'sociopsychological conditions', when it was a matter of repelling the
government's armed forces, when the movement had 'led to the
necessity' of an armed struggle."! Social-Revolutionary Peshekhonov demanded that substitution of a republic for the
monarchy be deleted from the "platform": "We must reckon
with the psychological factor .... The monarchist idea is too
deeply rooted in the popular mind", "one must take into consideration the psychology of the masses", "the question of the
republic calls for extreme caution". This psych?logis~ ~as
strongly opposed by Lenin. Rather than monarchist preJudice,
he said Peshekhonov "justifies the knout on the grounds that
it has ~ thousand years of history behind it". Lenin explained
that instead of ministering to class instincts obstructing the
revolution these instincts had to be fought. 2
He det~cted even tbe slightest symptoms of revolutionary
sentiment and the chances of merging them. He had a sharp
eye for the deepest and barely perceptible social phen.omena,
proving that his thinking was accurately gea.red to reahty.. He
was always psychologically vigilant, both at times of revolutlon~
ary upsurge and of decline, before and after the October
Revolution.
What the people think and feel revealed the "people's
psychology" and, therefore, had to be studied. In 19~O he
wrote: "We must learn to approach the masses with particular
patience and caution so as to. be able to underst~nd the
distinctive features in the mentality of ~ach st(~t~m, calling, ct~.,
of these masses. "3 Economic and SOCIal conditIOns ~roduce. 10
each clas~, str;:l.tum and profession specific pSycllO.lo~~C;ll tr.uts.
This is why Lenin insisted on including in the dclinltlan of the
I V. I. Lenin, Collt'd"d W'vrks, V,I1. 9 p. (,,,.
;,! IhiJ., Vol. II, pp. !o1' ,;.
:J Ibid., Vol. 31, p. 19 1 .

I"

proletariat the psychological :l~~~ct. T.he tcr~l, ':\~'orkc~", he

, dot ~hould be defined In sudl a \\ .1.) ,1S to Include
pomte
u,.
.
"
\"
f
onlr those who ha,'c acqUired il proit:tolrwn n~cnta it)
rom
the;r vcry conditions of life. But, this is impossible unless the
persons concerned have worked In a factory for many y~~r5not from ulterior motives, but because of the general condltlOns
of their economic and socialliEe" ,1
Lenin looked into the sentiments, psychology and frame of
mind of the people in each issue. In his letters we often come
across the following instruction: "Please write speedi ly and let
us know what the feeling is in this respect,":! One more illust(a~
tion: a worker's deputy, Lenin held, should learn through the
more prominent and influential workers "bow matters stood,
what the workers thought about it, and wbal tbe mood of the
masses was",3 He listed the sources of information on the
social psychology, a knowledge of which is indispensable in
din.:cting a mass movement, Nor did he rule out hostile sources.
"Every effort must be made to collect, verify and study these
objective data concecning the behaviour and moods, not of in~
divic.luals or groups, but of the masses, data taken from different
:lnc.l hostile newspa pers, data that arc vl'fi/iflb/e by any literate
pl.:fSOn,

'O nly from ~uch data can one it:arn :lIld \tudy the m()vem\!nt
of nne's class. ""
Lenin's socio-psychological observations arc reflected in his
~ef1nition of the relationship of the Party and the peop le:: "Li\'e
1/1 the ~hjck of things. Know the mood of the people. Know
(t'efythlllg, Learn to understand the masses, Develop the right
approadl, Win their absolute con fid ence.":"
That ~s, wh~ Marxist-Leninist social psychology should, prior
til examlnlllg Its own specific laws and phenomena, examine as
the ~tartin.J~ point the observations mndc by Lenin in th e space
of an entire epoch of revolutioll;HY prnllice as pnrt of his
illlrnort;)1 "sciel1(e of revolution",

V.1. T.4lli, ,CoUNud W'(),.h, Vol. n, p. 1p.

Ihid,V"I14.P.153
.
Ib,d Vol. ,S, p. 425.
Ibid. V"I. 10, p. ,h.
V I. 1 e '" C"lIr""" II'. or, s, 1'1'
'
I'.(Iilion, Vnl. H. p . .1');.
., 11 II U~".ln

2. SPONTANEITY AND CONSCIOUSNESS

Popuiarising and amplifying historical materialism, all

eminent Marxists AlItonio Labriola or August Bebel, Rosa
Luxemburg or G, V, Plckhanov-tried to probe in the most
concrete manner the possible mechanics of the law, "social
being determines consciousness". All of them observed closely
the public psychology, which, though seemingly elusive, is a
necessary component of this mechanics, for public consciousness
consists not only of ideology, i.e., theories, outlooks and systems,
but also of psychology. Neglecting its psychological aspect lead~
to a simplistic understanding of the basis and superstructure. It
is impossible to deduce conclusively from a given economic
state the philosophical, religious and aesthetic trends and
sys tems reigning among men. Some historians of culture, among
whom Pereverzev and Fritsche, have tried and produced
simp lified, mirror analogies. For instance, they ascribed the
style of St, Basil's Cathedral in Moscow to the diversity of
colours and the abundance of goods marketed in Red Square,
The more thoughtful Marxists always opposed the simplistic
idea of the basis being reflected jn the superstructure, showing
rhat socio-ewnomic rebtions determine primarily the latent and
unsystema.tised areas of puhlic coll"ciousncss rather than the
ideology.
Plekhanov put forward a theory that changes in human
psychology brought about by socia-economic, progress bridge t~e
gap between economic advance and the h~story of ~ultu~c In
the broader sense. To the supporters of tillS concep[Jon, Ideas
and culture are the materialisation of the public psycholo~r, Tn
his EsmYl' 011 tlJe lli.,tory 0/ MaterialiJIIl Plckhano\' divides
society into five interdependent elements: "the. givc.n stage of
development of the productive forces; th~ rebtlOnshlp~ .of men
in thc process of social production ,determined .by the s:ml st;lgC
of development; the form of soclcty expressing th.cse hll1n;l,1l
lciatiollships; the moods and customs correspo1ltling to t!ll~
form of society; religion, philosophy, litcrature al~cl art WlllCh
mirror the aptitudes, tastes and inclinations re~ultl1~g from the
above conditions."! Plckhanov insisted that the link named
ilere "moods and customs" (and elsewhere "predominant
G. V, Pkkh;\I\OV, 1::.",,, lIIi)", fJOSO/iki)"r "f"j~"'d('l/iya I' I I "'dk"
(SckdCd Phil",,,phiol \'(""rJ,,~ in 5 V"\UI11C'), \',,1. !, ,\!.he"", ")\1,, p. \~\.
I

15

"

sentiment and frame of mind") which can be broadly dellned as

~f)r.:ial psychology is essential (or any scientific inyestigation ot
the history of litemtmc, art, philosophy, etc. He wrote
"Understanding the history of " country's scientific thought or
that of its art requires more than knowing its economy. From
the economy onc must go on to a close study and understanding
of social psychology, failing \,,:hich no materialistic explanation
of the history of ideologies is posSible,"l
Elsewhere, Plekhanov formulated this idea more succinctly:
"AU ideologies stem from a common root-contemporary
psychology.":.!
He and the other Marxi~ts were (ight: new ideology originates not from economic change~, but fcom the public psychology,
as its ideational materialisation. Conversely, ideology exercises
a strong influence on the public psychology; the two interact.
If we consider ideology merely as the materialisation of the
public psychology, we shall lose sight of the continuity and
relative internal logic in the development of ideology from stage
til stagc. It is obviously more correct to assume that each of the
two aspects of social consciousness-the psychic and ideationalhas its own structure and specific pattern.: 1 But it is the sociopsychic phenomena issuing from this or that socio-economic
basis that impel or re'>trict the development of ideas.
Psychology is always related to the sphere of human actions
(including inhibition and suppression), while ideology abstracted
from psychology is but a world outlook. Ideology belongs to the
tl.:aim of ideas, notions, social institutions and customs. Ideology
less psychology is a b:lre phenomenology of culture, whereas
ta~en together the two arc the history of culture. \Vhen ide:\s
g;u~ a hold on th~ masses they pCnerl';ltc their psychology, i.e.,
their sphc(.e of. ;\c.tHln. Simibrly, when all idea spurs an individ11;,1 ~o actlo~ It IS more li';l0 all idea; it is psychics. Ideology
acquIres social strength--incitement o( inhihition-solely through
psychology: a change in ideoloAY, as any othcr process, is brought
about through psychology and is conditioned psychologically. By
contrast, ps).chology borders on action {;llthough some actions
arc automatic and (din), heGlUSC there is no psychology outI G. V. Plc:lh::mu\', tip. ell., YIlI. l, p. q1
lbiJ., \'01. 3, p. ,8(
.

3 ~~c M. Gal, Uebeniye ob ob!bcbnlt'e nom po;:;rllJllii V ST.eM leorii

PO-~""/J (The Te3ching "n :-\ocial COfUri"u\;1 CSI in tile Li;;ht of the Theory
f )...;, owle<igc) :'.{O)..ww, ''.I').

16

side the 1sphere

1 of1action " Psycholog) rna). bc cIthcr \'ery c1osc 1)'
~)r .\~ery oose y. ~c ated to the world outlook; in the latter case,
I~ IS an. unconsclO~s and purely spontaneous inducement to :lCtlon. Act~a\1)', soo,al psychology is always, it only vaguely, permeated with some Ideology.
Le.nin st,ressed that feelings, moods and instincts, i.e., psychical
state~ ?f different classes and the mass, stem from their economic
con(ht~on and. fundamental economic interest, the main source
of socio-psyclllcal phenomena. The people will turn a deaf car
to pro~agand:\ deyoid of economic visions. "The masses arc
?ra~vn 1Oto t!lC ~o\'cment," Lenin said, "participate vigorously
In It, value It hlgl~ly and display heroism, sc1f-sacrifice, pe(se~eranc~ and devotIOn to the great cause only if it makes for
unpronng the economic condition of those who work."l To
neglect the. e~onomic de~lan~s is tantamount to "abandoning
the econonuc mterests whICh Impel the masses of downtrodden
cowed, ignorant people to wage a great and unprecedentedl;
selfless struggle".:1 A rc\'olution erupts not because a dozen
hourgcois politicians grumble and exhort, but because millions
of, the "small folk". arc driven to despair; deep down in the
duck of the proletanan masses, democratic rcvolution is quieti\"
ripening.3 Economic conditions predetermine both the temporary political passi\'ity and the thirst of various classes for (evolution and socialism. Thus, "their vcr)' economic position makes
the petty-bourgeois masses amazingly credulous ... ther arc
still half asleep" ," while Social-Democrats find in the prole[arian
masses a natural and "instinctive urge towards socialism".5
Lenin docs not shun sllch words as "class instinct", "the instinct of the revolutionary class", "rc\'olutionary instinct", "class
fec1ing", "fec1ing", etc. What he understands by instinct refers
to the socio-psychological sphere rather than the biological. He
has found many apt expressions to denotc this most primiti,'c
:lnd subjectivc area of social movement or, convcrsely, of inertia. l ie .1nalyscs the workers' suppressed hatred of oppressors,
and draws the following important conclusion: "In a representativc of the oppressed and exploited masses, this hatred is truh'
the 'beginning of :\11 wisdom', the b:\sis of [In\' socialist and
Ibid, Vol. 18, p. 8\.
.\ Ihid. Vol. I I , 1' .p \.
:I Ihid., Vnl. 18. p. Ill.
, Ihid. V"l. !I, p. 2'1(,.
~ It-i.!. V,,1. 'I, p. ;~8.
2-19~!I

17

communist moyement and of its success."t Half-blind feeling

turns into half-blind action. "The unorganised street ccowds,
quite sponta neously and hesitatingly, set up the first ba((icades."~
The wavering of the bourgeois parties " is irritating the masses
. _. is pushing them towards insurrection",3
It is precisely the spontaneous and instinctive sentiments and
actions-generated directly by the needs :lnd intcrests of lifcthat come under the head of social psychology.
How social psychology permeates ideology is shown in Lenin's
analysis of the wodd outlook of the Ru ssi an revolutionary
democrats or that of Lev Tolstoy.
Lenin believed that the views Belinsky voiced in his letter to
Gogol originated from the feelings widespread among the serfs,
while the Russ ian 19th-century publicists drew on the mass
resentment of feudal survivals. Russ ian 19th-ce ntury pcogressive
thought, Lenin noted, reflected not the frame of mind of the
intelligentsia, but the peasants' antagoni sm to feudalism and
the protest of the people against " the survivals of feud ali sm
throughout the whole system of Russian Iife":'i
Lenin ascribes the progressive elements of Tolstoyism to the
same sources, while tracing the reactionaty to the psychology
of the post-reform peasant, hi s despa ir and confusion in face
of the capitalist "freedom" , which for him spelled ruin, star\'ation and destitution.5
True, Lenin does not reduce the socio-psychological roots of
Tolstoyism to the peasantry alone, for he a lso mentions all Russian society. "The contradictions in Tolstoy' s views are not contradictions inherent in his personal views a lone, but are a
reflection of the extremely complex, contrad ictory conditions,
social influences and historical traditions which dctermined the
psychology of various classes and va rious sections of Russian
socicty in thc post-Reform, but pre-rcvolutionary cra. "G Yet,
from a more general standpoint, T olstoy cssentiall y mirrored the
mood of the Russian peasant, his blindly revolutionary and just
as blindly anti-revolution ary nature.
Tolstoy is great, L cnin wrote, because hc expressed thc sen-

timent ~f million~ of Russian pcasants on thc cye of the 1905

bourgcOis rcvol.utlOn. Centuries of serfdom and the decades of
post-reform rUin "piled up mountains of hatred resentment
anc! despcratc determination". The ideational con~cnt of Tols:
toy ~ w?rks, Lenin ~ointed out, conforms primarily to the peasants wish of sweepmg away the old regime, all the old forms
and wa~s of landownership in the name of a vague ideal of a
commuIllty ?f free and equal small peasants.l Tolstoy's criticism
of t~e eXisti ng order was strong in its expression of scntiment
paSSLOn, purpose, fres hness, sincerity and fearlessness and in it~
rcsolvc to "g~ to the roots" and find the real causcs of the misery, because It represcnted the mood of millions of peasants,2
Tolstoy brought home forcefully, Lenin observed, the mood of
thc oppresscd ma,~~es, "expressing their spontaneous feelings of
ptOt~st ~ n d, anger :J accumulated over the centuries. He exposed
d.le IO St ltutlO~S helping the ruling classes and contemporary society to retam power: nOt only the state, church and landed
property, but also "the law courts, militarism, 'lawful' wedlock
'
bourgeois science","
.On th ~ other hand, Lenin pointed out, the peasant conceived
tillS chenshed com munity in a vague and p:ttriarchal light. His
past had instilled in him a burning hatred of the gentry and
bureaucracy, but had not shown him where to look for the
ans\~ers to t~~ questi?ns of social struggle, "Tolstoy's ideas,"
LeOln wrote, are a mirror of the weakness, the shortcomings of
our peasant revolt, a reflection of the flabbiness of the patri archal countryside and of thc hidebound cowardice of the 'enterpri~ing muzhik'."5 Elsewhere he amplified: "Tolstoy mirrored
their {the peasants'-Ed,] sentiments so faithfully that he imported
~hei( .naNete. into his. own doctrine, their alien.ltion from politIcal life, thclr mystiCism, their des ire to keep aloof from the
world, 'non-resistance to evil', their impotent imprecations
against capitalism and the ' powcr of money', The protest of
millions of peasants and their desperation-thesc were combined
in Tolstoy's doctrine,"(J
The above is iltustrative of Lenin's approach to how some
Ibid, Vol. 1 j, p. tOO,
., Ibid .. Vol. 16. 11. \ \!.
1

. .
. Ihld., pp. j!J-~4.
~ [bid., p. 113.
I

I V. J. Lenin. Collected W'orJu, Vol. 31, p . 110.

:1 Ibid. , Vol. II, p. 1-2.
J Jbid. , Vol. 26, p. (,0.
f, Ibid. Vol. 16, p. 12 \,
" Ibid. Vol .6, p. }2j,
I> Ibid.

18

;, [hid .. Vul. 11,1'. 20:'.

,; Ihid .. \'u l . rh, 1'. H!

"

19

features of the public psychology arC rc~cctCd in s(~mc specifi~

idcolooical phenomenon. Ideology is con~,d.crc.d .\ mirror of th~
ublic"'psychology although its rcfh::ctioll IS locil rcct aod, refractel
,
.
d features pccu l lac to t 1C
P
through the specific properties an
'

ideological sphere.
. 1
.
s chology is
The revc(se process-reneetion of Id~o ogy 1~ P Y
-d
overlooked in the :'Lbovc example, notwithstanding Tolstoy an
Toistoyism having many followers nmong some. strata of ~casants.
To oaio an idea of the action of ideas, theones and sC,lencc on
the ~sycholog)' of the masses and classes onc has to sinh to an
entirely different piane.

d"d

e~ ogy
is often treated as the question of spontaneity and coosc~ous
In Lenin's works the correlation of psycho,logy an

ness. These differ somewhat, but are closely relat~d. ConscIOusness and spontaneity, although opposites as Lellln sa\: them,
interacted in the (cvolutiomuy movement, rhe consclOusn~ss
stemming from and struggling against. sp~ntaneity. ~ccordlllg
to Lenin, the difference between the diffUSIOn of pol.mcal consciousness and rhe growing resentment of the m~sses IS that th:
former is introduced by Soci:ll-Democracy, whtle the latter IS
spontaneous. I
.
.'
Lenin pointed to this parnllcl :lnd Intemctlllg IOfluence of
thought and latenr psychic:l1 changes on the .work~rs' struggle
and rhe revolutionary movement. In 1905, dealing with the three
stages in the Social-Democratic movement, he said: "Eac~ .of
these transitions was prepared, on the one hand, by sOCIalist
thought working mainly in one direction, and on the other, by
rhe profound changes that had taken place in the conditions of
life and in the whole mentality of the working class, as well as
by the fact that increasingly wider steata of the working cI.a ss
were roused to more conscious and active struggle.":! Attention
simultaneously to the workings of the mind and to the psychical
make-up, to ideas and feelings, pervades Lenin's approach to
social consciousness.
This differs from Plekh:lllov's " tier" system in which social
psychology and ideology at'e assigned third and fourth tiers. In
direct revolutionary action, Lenin accentuates the antagonism
and interdependence of opposites in thc public consciousness:
social psychology :lnd ideology arc somewhat contrary, but canI
2

V. I. T_cnin, Collulca \'(/orL. Vol. G, p.

Ibid" Vol. 8, p. 111.

Zl.

n.ot exist onc without the other. Properly spe,lking, thc opposites are, on the one hand, blind, unconsciou .. behaviour and,
on the other, scientific con~ciousness. Lenin dnes not shun the
term "unconscious". In \Vhal the "Friends 01 the People" Arc
(lnd flow TIIl:Y Fight the Social-Democrats he writes: ne\'er
before did "the members of society conceive the sum-tl)tal of
~he social relations in which they live as ~omething definite,
mtegral, pervaded by some principle; on the contrary, the mass
of people 3dapt themselvcs to these relations unconsciously, and
have so little conception of them as specific historical social
rclations that, for instancc, an explanation of the exchange
relations under which people have lived for centuries was found
only in very recent times".! But between unconscious adjustment
to social life (poles apart from logical thinking and knowledge)
and its theorctical explanation there is a wide area where the
two antagonistic principles, variously correlated, blend to form
the public psychology and ideology. Social psychology is closer
to "unconscious adjustment", but is visibly influenced by consciousness. Accordingly, social psychology is opposite to ideology
in a very rclative way, with many a transitory stage. Sometimes
Lenin links the two concepts so closely that they become almost
indistinguishable. "This psychology and ideology," he wrote,
"much as it may be vague, is unusually deep-rooted in C\'cry
worker and peasant."2
Lenin used thc term "spontaneity" to describe socio-psychological traits gravitating towards, though ne\'ee synonymous with,
unconsciousness. ICSpontancity" implies two main groups of
phenomena: I) a downcast state of men, submissiveness to
poverty, lack of rights, and being accustomed to oppression;
2.) protest, resentment, rebellion directed against the immediate
source of miseey, but not constructive oe enlightened by social
theory.
Lenin objects vehemently to the former group, calling on
revolutionary Marxists to break down this psychological bauier
in the masses; he considers slavish submission an antithesis
to the revolutionary outlook and revolutionary action. In an
article, "The Persecutors of the Zemst\'o and the Hannibals of
Liberalism" (1901), Lenin weote: "Just as the peasant has grown
accustomed to his wretched poverty, to living his life without
I Ibid., Vol. I. p. 139.
2 Ibid., Vol. 11, p. 29.

21

pondcring O\'cr the C;HI~l'~ (If hi~ ,~'r~\l:hCl~lIl:~s. IIr tlw pn, ,ih;lll),
of remo\'ing it, ~o the pbin RIIS~I,\n l>Uh)Cd ll;\s hl:o.:0llw ;\C~\I'
tomcd to thc omnipotcllc,,:: of the Et0y..::rtlmcllt. to ItYll~~ ~JI\ ,,It,h
uut " thou!;ht ,lS to whether the ~OYl'rnnl\:nt (,\11 ret,tlll H~ arhlt
rM\ 11\.)We~ am long..::r ,HId "hether, side by l>ide with it, tl1I.;re
ar~ n0t force~ ' undermininEt thc outmoded political sYl>tcm."1 B)
thc,e focces Lenin me;\1\t, first amI foremllst , the pro)..:rcss of the
working das~, though hc detected slln'i\'ing tr.KCS of dejection
:ll\d submission among the workers too.
The lattcr group of spontancous phcnomen;\ attraclcd Lenin
in his c.lpacity as thcorist and practical rcvolutionary. He was
ncycr doctrinaire in his view of spontancity. On thc contrary.
"It is beyond all doubt." he wrote, " that the spontaneity of the
mo,'cment is proof that it is deeply rooted in the masses, that its
roots are firm and that it is inevitable"2; " the 'spontaneous
clement', in essencc, represents nothing more nor less than con~
sciousness in an embryonic /oTm. Even the primitive revolts
expressed the awakening oE consciousness to a certain extent.
The workers were losing their age long faith in the permanence
of the system which oppressed them and began .' . I shall not
sar to understand, but to sense the necessity for collectivc
resistancc, definitely abandoning their slavish submi ssion to the
authorities. But this was, nevertheless, more in the nature of
outbursts of desperation and vengeance than of struggle."3
For a rc\'olutionary Marxist this form of spontaneity is of
value not only because it can produce scientific consciousness,
but because it paves thc way for its propaganda and assimilation.
The workers' political stand and spontaneous militancy were,
as Lenin saw it, the nutrient medium for the revolutionary Social~Democracy, facilitating rapid dissemination of Marxism.1j
Revolutionary ideologists arc "capablc of coping with political
tasks in the genuinc and most practical sense oE the term , for
the reason and to the extent that their impassioned propaganda
meets with response among the spontaneously awakening masses, and their sparkling energy is answered and supported by the
energy of the rcvolutionary c1ass",5 This was Lenin's answer to
educated revolutionaries when asked "What is to be done?" .
I V. L Lenin, Collccud \VoTks, Vol. \. p,
2 Ibid .. Vol. 16. p, 60.
l Ibid" Vol. j. p. ;" ~.
~ Ibid., Vol. j. pp, 25'16.
5 Ihid" p. 44-

22

;j,

The \011(11 ',unlet!, Wilh t\larxi revolutionary theory wnuLi hcndit

lrom applYing tlll.~ theory to the bPf)ntaneou~ly awakt fling m sses,
A reyolutlOl1ary Democrat, ",'rotc Lenin, will fir~t cxp 1SC hdlll
th~ pcople ,111 ~\'Ils anti ,h.)rtcl)mings "to arouse tbciT activ ty"
prior til n.:portln~ to the "authorities". l Marxism enahll' th.
revolutiol1<HY to exphlin tf, the workers tile lot causes nf the r
pliJ-:ht "openin~ for him the widest perspcctivc\ and (if IInl..
ma~' so expreu iti places at hi~ dispo:kll tbe midlty forlc 01
many m i lli()~s of w()rker~ '~pootancf)w;\r' risin~ for the :-.truggle .,
IJ ybernatlOn and awakening originate at one of the extremes;
M:ientific theory, its transformation into a comprehensive
socia-political ideology and propaganda originate at the /)tiler.
Lenin held a~ insufficient merely to acquaint the Russian workers
with the fundamentals of political economy (explaining the nature of capitalist exploitation) and give them a general outline
of scientific communism. This is not enough to a~sociate scien'
tific theory with protest and resentment, The Ru~sian worker.
of peasant origin or related to peasants, lives in a peasant country and is su rrou nded br semifeudal, autocratic and bureauc
ratic institutions. Scientific theorr should explain to the worker
not only his narrow class interests, but the surrounding: socien'.
It should show him that unless these pillars of reaction a~e
overthrown and so long as the poor peasants deny their support, the working class stands no chance against thc bourgcoi~
sic. The working class "will ne\"er cease to be downtrodden and
cowed. capable only of sullen desperation and not of intelligent
ancl persiste nt protest and struggle",3 unless it understands thc
social order and forms a wide front with the toiling masses. The
workers' scientific outlook should not be limitcd to industry
and industrial labour. The Russian Marxists did well to lift
thc curtain on the rural conditions, dresscd up by the Narocl~
niks, showing the proletariat the fetters binding working people
evet'ywherc, so that it could rise and throw them off "and reach
out for thc real f1ower""-socialism.
"rn order to become a Social~Democr:\t'" Lenin wrote in
\'(1/;(11 Is To Be DOlle? "the worker must have a clear picture
in his mind of the economic nature and thc social and political
Ihid,.
3 Ibid"
3 Ibid ..
, Ibid ..
I

Vol. n. p. f ).j.
Vol. j. p. ,92.
Vol. I , p. 291.
p. 1\6,

23

features of the landlord and the priest, the hi,gh st:lte official
and the peasant, the student and the ";\gabond; he m.ust know
their strong and weak points; he must.Ar;\Sp the meal\lng of all
the catchwords and sophisms by wluch each cbss :lnd each
stratum camouflages its sclfi.5h 5triyings and it~ (e;ll 'inner workings'."l
.
In short the counter-move should consIst of a theory, pwpedy prop:gated, to suit the spont:lneously r~used desire for
action one that would direct this :l.ction, (eadung through conscious~ess the sphere of the senses. To bear out his point, Lenin
quoted Engels: without a sense of theory among the workers,
this scientific socialism would never have entered their flesh
and blood.2 This counter-move answers the spontaneously roused
discontent of the masses as theory takes a grip on their consciousness j much more, it enters their fle sh and blood. This is
best expressed as follows: theory becomes a material force once
it gains possession of the masses.
In 1912 Lenin wrote: "We say that the workers and peasants
who arc most downtrodden by the barracks baue begun to rise
in revolt. Hence the plain and ob"ious conclusion: we must
explain to them how and for what purpose they should prepare
for a mcccss/Ill uprising."3
Lenin taught the Russian revolutionaries to fuse scientific
socialism with the workers' movement.
The sphere of acti,'ity is not restricted to the working class.
"There is a mass of people, because the working class and
increasingly varied social strata, year after year, produce from
their ranks an increasing number of discontented people who
desire to protest, who arc ready to render all the assistance they
can in the struggle against absolutism, the intolerableness of
which, though not yet recognised by all, is more and more acutely
sensed by increasing masses of the people."" Here again Lenin
speaks of a wide spectrum of sentiment, ranging from unconscious sensations to scientific consciousness. Analysing spontaneous discontent, he infers that propaganda and agitation should
be directed not only at the proletariat but also at other classes.
"Is there a basis for activity among all classes of population?"
he asks, and adds: "\'ifhoever doubts this lags in hi s consciousI V. T. Lenin. Co/ll'C/Crl \V()lks, Vol. " p. 41j.
2 Ihid. , p. HI.
J Ihid., Vol. 18, pr. 381-81.
, Ibid. , Vo!. I, p. 468.

ne,s .behind the spontaneou'{ aw,lkcning of the masses. The

workLOg-dass mo,".cment ha~ .lfou~ed and is continuinA to
~rou~e dhcontent 11\ some, hopes of support for the opposition
III others, and in still others the realisation that the autocrac.v
is unbearable and must inevitably fall. ... This is quite apa;t
from the fact that the millions of the labouring: peasantry, handicraftsmen, petty artisans, etc., would always listen eagerly to the
~peech of any Social-Democrat who is at all qualified. Indeed,
is there :l ~inAle social class in which there arc no individuals,
groups,. or circles that arc discontented with the lack of rights
and WIth tyranny and, therefore, accessible to the propaAanda
of Social-Democrats ... ?" 1
Lenin's idea of spontaneity and consciousness is well illustrated by his stand on fraternisation in the battle-lines in 1917.
Fraternisation began and continued spontaneously, Lenin wrote.
"The fraternising soldiers are actuated not by a clear-cut political
iden but by the instinct of oppressed people, who are tired,
exhausted and begin to lose confidence in capitalist promises ....
This is a true class instinct. Without this instinct the cause ot
the re\'Olution would be hopeless .... This instinct must be
transformed into political awareness".~ So long as fraternisation
is spontaneous , its only implication is the breaking of the discipline of the barrack prisons, the discipline of blind obedience
of soldiers to officers, generals, capitalists. But that already is a
revolutionary initiative of the masses. 3 Fraternisation was spontaneous, and gradually spread from one sector of the front to
all the theatres of war, thus opening the door for political consciousness, for transition to a conscious fraternisation:'i
Lenin 's profound interest in the second form of spontaneity,
i.e., in that of protest, leads to the conclusion th:lt the psychology of protest thirsts for consciousness, be it bourgeois ideolog:.
or the ~enuine science of proletarian socialism. However, thi~
psychology of protest or this spontaneity docs not predetermine
a preference for scientific consciousness as distinct from a nonscientific ideology. On the contrary, as Lenin pointed out, spontaneous development of the working-class mo'"ement results in
subjugation to bourgeois ideology. Though socialist theory is
clearer :lnd clo~er to the workers, bourgeois ideology is older,
I Ibid., p. 4;0.
2 Ibid., Vol. :~, p. :68.
3 Ihid., p. J18.
, I1,id., p. :6R.

25

more thoroughl" worked out anti poss':"Cs IInmcasIL[,\hly hrtJ,llkr

means of d;~seminntinn. This is wilY "1111 worship (lr the spon
[,Incit) of the working-dass movelllent, all hcli.tt\i.n~ of the role
of the 'comciou~ clement, of the role of Soo,ll D':1lI0lral),
IIfl.mu IJllil,' iudt'pemit'lIlly 01 ...'lId/wr b, u'bo bdiltln Iblll mlt~
tit'Sift".' it or /lOt. a ~tft'JI.r:./b(,JliIlR 01 tlw illfllll'I/{' 01 hOllfh,O;.1
ideology upoll/bl' ;,,:orkrrs.

This, in sum. is the dialectics or Lenin's id.:,\s ,\boul the ,\)(i,1I

ps\chology of spontaneous discontent and protest; thou~h he
wnsiders spontaneity a fertile soil for socialist consciousness,
Lenin attacks it and refuses to worship it, bemuse spontaneity
35 ~uch is n nutrient medium for bourgeois ideology. For the
revolution, spontaneity may be either an eff ective stepping-stonc
Q( a hindrance. Lenin wrote: "It is often said that the working
class JpolI/fllleolfsly gravitates towards socialism. This is perfectly true in the sense that social ist theory reveals the causes
of the misery of the working class more profoundly and more
correctly than any other theory, and fo r that reason the workers
are able to assimilate it so easily, proL'ided, howc\er, this theory
does not itself yield to spontaneity, provided it subordinates
spontaneity to itself .... The working class spontaneously gravi
tates towards socialism; nevertheless, most widespread .'.
bourgeois ideology spontaneously imposes itself upon the working
class to a still greater degree.":!
This re\'eals the polarity and mutual penetration of social
psychology and ideology, spont.aneity and consciousness, unconsciousness and science. Knowledge of this sphere of unconscious,
spontaneous socio-psych ic phenomen3, nonetheless subord inated
to ideology, was required back in 1901 to answer the question
"What is to be done?", and it was a knowledge that was needed
by Lenin throughout his subsequent activity.
3. THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ASPECT OF THE RELATIOM SHIP
BETWEEM THE VAMGUARD AMD THE MASSES

Lenin's rem~[ks on social psychology arc in the final nnalysis

centred on a smglc task-to appraise the conditions in which the
Party con.ducts its re\olutionary acthjty, to appraise the sociopsychological background for the Party's slogan~, and thereby
I V. I. Lenin. Colla/I'd If'(lrks, Vol.
2 Ibid. p. )86.

j.

pp. ,8:83

the cflit,lty of its dIm! Iplli., never 3ih to Il'lte the ebh and
Hnw of rcvnlutinnafY ,ncrgy. and 50mctimell, a~ he writc~, of
''tlcjcttion and ap,I!!I)", dep,ndinl; on the Aeneral political situa
tion, amnnA the \lafil)m "trata of the proict."uiat and the peasants.1 He ~ccs thc r,IIIJ,:C of s;tuatil)n1 pass before his eycs:
from "a pcrilld of an enormnu~ decline in the energY Ilf thc
masscs"~ aftcr the fnolutionary up~ur~c of 19<)~-1907 tfl anti
cipation of victory in Il)dl, "if the necc\sary turn in the mOfld
of the pcople t.lkcs placc, This turn i1 devdopinA and perhap'
much time i~ requircd, hut it will comc, when thc great ma~, of
the people will not say what they are saying now">1 And the
Patty invariably suited in methods to current developments.
This is one of the aspects of Lenin's teaching on the relationship between the Party and the masses and classes. Here,
we shaH deal with just this psychological aspect, although it is
interwoven with many other factors.
The relationship between the organised ,anguard and the rest
of the masses is an illustration of Leninist dialectics.
To begin with, Lenin emphasised that the finest and most
revolutionary vanguard, the most hardened working-class party
is but a particle of the ocean of people. And the vanguard is
impotent when that ocean is calm. "The finest of vanguards
express the c1nss-!:onsciousneis, will, passion and imagination of
tens of thousands," Lenin wrote, "whereas at moments of great
upsurge and the exertion of all human capacities, revolut~ons
are made by the class-consciousness, will, passion and imaglll:ltion of tens of millions, spurred on by a most acute struggle of
classes."t,
Lenin was nevcr nfraid of caHing attention to the Part)'s trailin" behind spolltaneous ch3nges in the re,olutionary ps)"cholo~)
ot the masses during periods of re,olutionary uplift. '"January
9, 190~," he wrote, "fuHy revealed the \"3st reserve of revolutionary energy possessed by the ~{oletarjat., a~ wC;.IJ as t~~ u!ter
inadequacy of Social-DenlOcratlC ?rgallisatlon.
Le/lln s I~
mediate practical response to thc rapid grow~h of th~ proletan at
and peasants roused to political and rnolutiOnnry hfe 3he! the
1905 events (when a pC3ccfui workers' demonstration was fired
, Ibid ..
2 Ibid ..
J Ibid,
4 Ibid,
:, Ibid.

vot. d;. p. !~9

p. 117.
Vot. !7, p. ,o~.
Vol. 31, pp. 919(}
Vol. 8. p. , 67.

27

on), was: "To drop ;l md,lphor, W~ l1lu~l (ol1,idn,lhly I~l(r~.l sc

the membership of aU P,lrtv and P;lrtY(OIHh.'..:t..:d. Clr).':,l1H\.Il11IO ~
in order to be !lblc to keep up til SOtlll' c:\.tcnt wIth the stn:.Ull
of populnr (c"olution;lq' Clll'q'!\' whidl. has hcc~\ ;\ l~undrnlfn'd
strengthened." 1 In :\ letter of th,lt pcn()~~, r.C~11I S;lI~ th;~t dtH.:
to the gigantic ,sc:llc of the movement, .no, slIlgl..:
III ,the
wodd, under conditions where the P,uty IS 11Ieg:!!, could s;ltlsh
a thousandth part of the dcm:lnds nude on it" and that he, for
one, f .woured postponing the uprising until spring, adding: "but,
then, nobody asks us :HI) W:1.)'''.:! He thought a congress necessary
to prepare the uprising "on the b,\sis of the practical experiences
of the functionaries and on the basis of the mood of the workingclass masses".3 He stressed that the Piltty lagged behind the
\igorous action of the masses: "Events have shown that we arc
dealing, not with an uprising of the 'uncivilised masses', but
with an uprising of politically conscious masses capable of carrying on an organised struggle .... \Vle must ascertain the mood
of the proletariat-whether the workers consider themselves fit
to struggle and to lead the struggle."" Some time later Lenin
said that the Moscow events again showed "that we are still
inclined to underestimate the revolutionary activity of the
masses.5 He appreciated the spontaneous activity of the working
class in later periods as well; in 1919, saying that the Soviet
system in the countryside existed only due to the hearty support of the majority of the people, he observed: "We have been
receiving this support because the urban workers have established contact with the rural poor in thousands of ways, 0/ wbicb
we have 1101 even an inkling''fj (my italics-All/bor).
But this is only one side of dialectics. Lenin oriented the
Party not only on activity during outbreaks, but also in the
periods of relative calm, when political agitation could awaken
large sections of people.? A point to remember is that a vanguard gets its name because it can rouse the enthusiasm of the
masses and then lead them. "It has frequently happened at critical moments in the life of nations that even small advanced

c.c.

1 V. L Lellill, Collected IX/orb, Vol. 8, p. 117.

l Ibid .. Vol. 14, p. ,Go.
3 Ibid .. Vol. 8, p. 169.
, Ibid., p. )70.
r; Ibid .. Vol. 9. p. ,84.
G Ibid_. Vol. 29, p. 76.
7 Ibid . Vol. I. p. Pol.

dct:lchrncnt~

or ..d ....lnced classes carried t, e

res, with t, em have

lircd the fl1.l~~es with rcvolutirm.HY cnthu.~ia.~m. and ha~c ac
o.:ornpli,hed tremendou", hi~t()rical feat<1 Lenin wrote_ This
v;lngU.lrU role implies not mere prop,lganda hf progressi\c lilCIlrV.
but .1!sO diss<:minating enthu<,ia\m and lighting revolutionary
scntiment. "All great political changes," wrote Lenin, "h;lvc
collle .\bout thr(Jugh the enthusiasm of the vanguard. whom the
ma~ses followed spontan<:()u~ly, not quite consciousl}'."~
When in 190J the Party called for extra-parliam<:ntary
methods of struggle, this was a call by men, Lenin ~aid, "who
really were at the head of the masses, at the head of miHion~
of fighting workers and peasants. The fact that these millions
responded to the ca!! proved that the slogan was objectively
correct, and that it expressed not merely the 'convictions' of a
handful of re\olutionaries, but the actual situation, the temper
and the initiative of the masses".J The masses felt instinctively
that we were right, Lenin wrote in 1916." In other words. the
Party's slogans fell on fertile socio-psychological soil and corresponded to the objective interests of the masses. This was the
source of strength of the Boisheyik Party. In 1917 Lenin
stressed: "It is we, and we alone, who 'take into account' the
change in the mood of the masses, as wen as something besides,
something far more important and more profound than moods
and changes in moods, namely, the fundamental interests of the
. masses." The Bolsheviks, Lenin continued, repudiated chau\-inism
in order to express the interest of the masses and spur them to
revolutionary action, using "their change of mood nOt to pander
to the given mood in an unprincipled manner, but to wage a
struggle on principle for a complete rupture with social-ch:J.u\".

.. c

1I11sm .u

As we sec, Lenin refused to be in tOw of mass psychology.

lie made this dear: "Natufi\lly, we shan not submit to e\crything the masscs say, because the masses, too, sometimcs-par[iculnrly in time of exceptional wColrincss and exhaustion resulting from excessivc hardship and suffering-yield ro sentiments
th~t ~rc in no way ~(hallccd."lj
I Ibid .
~ Ibid .
3 Ibid.,
~ Ibid_.
r; Ibid.,
G Ibid.,

Vol.
Vol.
Vol.
Vol.
Vol.
Vol.

17, p. 191.
H, p. 174
Ij. p. H9.
j. p. 114.
1!. p. :71.
H. p. 19

29

.'
h i ' I terlUS is the dialectics of the rclation,ThiS, 10 psyc 0 o~~:es and ~hc vanguard, or, as Lenin put it
ship between the ffiD
1 between the mob and the professional
in \Y/bat
Is to
Be
one.,
bC Wit
- h t hc masses.,
.
.
1 Th P ty should alwars
e ar
d t : at every step to push
revolUtlonancs.
"must go where the masses go, an r).
.

- \" .. 2
the masses in the direction 0 socia Ism .
t he conSCIOusness 0
f . hf 1
h
The Party gains leadership because it ,is always alt u to t c
masses and because it inspires and gUides tbe, mass~s. But onc
should never forget that, first and foremost, hls~ory IS mad~ by
< Leo,-o wrote that the worklOg class thmts
t \Ie masses. I n I 90 I
instinctively for overt revolutionary action, and the. Party must
set the goal for the uprising, i.e., lead the p(olctarl~t an~ not
merely trail in the wake of events.3 And in 1917 ~enm pOlnted
(Jut that the only real force that compels change IS the r.evol~
tionary energy of the masses; this energy finds expressiOn. ill
propaganda. agitation and organisati.on condu.cte~ by partl~s
marching at the head of the [evolution, not iLmplng along. I.n
its traiL" "Socialism cannot be decreed from above. Its SplOt
rejects the mechanical bureaucratic approach; living. creative
sociali sm is the product of the masses themselves."5
Lenin did not hesitate to take up the peasant aspiration s to
nn equitable divi~ion of land after the October Revolution put
the key economic and political positions into the hands of the
proletariat. "Experience is the be~t teacher. Let the peasants
solve this problem from one end and we shaH solve it from
the other. Experience will oblige us to draw together in the
Henemi stream of re\olutionary creative work, in the elaboration
of new state forms. We must be guided by experience; we must
allow complete (reedom to the creative faculties of the masses."G
Finally let us recaU how Lenin argued for a political respite
in 1918: d.le Bolshev iks p~nu~ded ~nd won the people away
from the nch, but eC0l10nllC dl~locntlon, hun~et and the aftermath of war have " inevitahly caused extreme weariness and
e\en exhaustion of wide ~eui()m of the working pl.'Oplc. These
people insistently demand -anti cannot hut demand -a respite".7
I

v. I. Lcnill, Collrrfrd \\'for.lr, VOlI.

\. 1'. 4(,\.

Ihid., Vol. 1\, p. lH

.1 Lhid., V"L. 9. p. 19, See V 1. l.enin. Cu'!'-"",! \\'lIrAI,
P

1 MI.

,\' 1 I ,uil1. C 1f..<"Inf \\".",,1..

Ibid. p.

~('I

11,;,1 , \,,,1.

As we sec, Leni n rtppraised the Party not for itself, but for
its position in relation to the maker and decisive force of his
tory-the worki ng masses. This, indeed, is the only possible
criterion from the standpoint of both political practice and history. Lenin wrote: "Any false note in the position of any party
immediately lands that party where it deserves to be." I Proceeding from this view of the relationship between the Party and
the masses, Lenin devoted much attention not only to the
psychol~gy of the ma~ses, but to that of the Party membership,
nnd at tImes censured it se\'erely.
Criticising the Central Committee for psychological shortcomings, Lenin observes that these have a direct bearing on
politics, for in political struggle a halt is fataL::!
. I~ his letters of that period Lenin insists on ending all, e"en
tflfling squabbles among Party members abroad.:'l And after the
Revolution he was even more exacting. In '922 he wrote: "The
ecollomic power in the hands of the proletnrian stnte of Rus1'ia is quite adequate to ensure the transition to communisnl.
Whm is lacking? Obviously, what is Jacking is culture among the
str."1tum of the Communists who perfo rm administrati,e func
tions. "I,
Lenin found soul-stirring words about the ideological nnd
psychological prestige of the Party and irs represemati,'cs :lmong
the people. After the split with the Mensheviks in 1907, he
wrote that "it was necessMy to Mouse among the masses hatred,
:wersion and contempt for these people who had ceased to be
members of a united party"." This is e,idence of the import:lnce
he attilchcd to wh.1t the masses felt about the Bolshe,jks. Party
ngitation ~nd propaganda W,lS .llways an "appe'll to the people'.~
sentiments", as Lenin referred to the manifesto of the Third.
Commu nist International.!; It was this as much ,IS their objecti\ity and ~cicntific bmis that mnde strong the appeals ;lIld
slogans of the Party. This is true of the slogn n to tr,lnsfOfm
Soviets into the Of~an of the uprising, an organ of re\olution;ln
power. "Considered apart from this task," Lenin wrote, "the
Soviets are just a toy, inevitably leading to apathy, indiffl'fence

1\1.

3ll

Ihid.,
~ Ihid .
:1 Ihid ..
~ Ihid .
~, Ihid.,
I; Ihid
I

V"l. l~, 1'. l7.

Vol. H, 11, }2~.
Pl'. HO-P, jll.
Vnl. 'I, p. 1KK.
v,,1. 11.1' .pl,.
V,,1. II). 1'. I'll

JI

and disappointment of the masses, who, [1;ltlll"ally, arc fed up

with the endless repetition of resolutions .lllli protests. '[
Party strength derives from comprehensible agitation and the
power of its own eX.lmrle. "\'(fhat is expected of us," wrul<
Lenin, "is propaganda by eX.Imrle; the nonParty masses han:
to be set an example."2 In 1918 Lenin wanted mass agitation
stepped up both among the workers and peasants in hun!!:cr
struck provinces.
Here is another example of the importance Lenin attached to
psychology and the socia-psychological :lSpect of Party activity.
Addressing a meeting in 19 19 about t he Red Army victories in
the Don region, he noted that they were due solely to the Party
increasing its cultural and educational work among the ranks:
"This brought about a psychological change, and as a result our
Red Army won the Don region for us.":!
To keep track of psychological changes and, much more, to
bring them about- this, from a socia-psychological viewpoint, is
the Party's dual task in leading the masses, carrying through the
revolution:lry tasks, and building .c;oci:lli sm.

4. SUMMATION OF REVOLUTIONARY SENTIMENTS

Lenin's interest in socia-psychological processes and phenomena differed before and after the October Socialist Revolution.
Before the "ictory, Leninist social psychology was in no way
concerned with the communist education of the masses. Lenin
described this trend as deceit of the workers by the parties and
leaders of the Second International. So long as the socia-economic'
conditions were capitalist and the working class was oppressed
by the bourgeoisie (sometimes in a vcry refined way), the idea
that the exploited majority could work out firm socialist con
victions was nothing but a fraud. In rcality, Lcnin said, it is
only after thc exploitcrs arc overthrown "and only in the actual
proccss of an acute class struggle, th:lt the masses of the toilers
and exploited can be educated , trai ned and organised around
the proletariat under whose influcnce and guid ance they c<ln
get rid of the selfishness, disunity, vices :lnd weaknesses cngellLCllill, Colll"/I'd \Vor"'" <, F,'[,I, R" ",',".. E~(II','"
h,lI. \ ' O.
1
2 V. T. Lcnin, Colla/I'd Wlnrki. V,,1. }" p. ~H.
3 Ibid. , Vol. 19. p. p.
I V.

r.

3~.

p. " ~;.

dcred by pnvatc: property only then will they be converted into

,I freo..: union of f ~ workers.'"
I.CIIIII
I(
"f hu.1I )~),IUJIf) 'J r III[ til the 0, (,nCr Rc
nlillinii r jUq UII crucial ta~k. \Jnder the u "HJ.t Clpit.11
I ~l ", ,lUll thl' ;;II.1l WJ. to Illy and t'l merge 1Il:l. ngl.- SHC.lIn
;111 the rcvolutionary scntiments and thereby to ensure are . .
olutillll.lfV uplift and to overcome retarding infiuenCC$. "It wa~
the t:l,k of the olde( generation," Lenin said in 1920, "to ovcrthrow the bourgeoi\ie ... to arouse hatred of the bourgeoisie
.Imung thc ma~se$, and foster das$-lXlflSC.iousncss and the ability
to unite their forces.":'!
This was no straightlorward process. On the one hand, as
the 1 90~ revolution showed, "the long and undivided rule of the
autocracy has stored up revolutionary energy among the people
to a degree perhaps never before known in history'? but, on
the other, the people was a part of the capitalist society and as
such was not free of its shortcomings and weaknesses. It was
figh t ing for socialism, but at the same time also against its own
shortcomings," to which it sometimes succumbed. Thus, at the
beginning of the First World War "everywhere the bourgeoisie
vanquished the proletariat for a time, and swept them into the
turbid spate of nationalism and chauvinism.s But in the final
count the basic trend made headway.
The essence of this basic trend was the growing psychological
appreciation of the fact that the existing society was divided
into tWO antagonistic camps, into "us" and "them". Lenin
explained this lucidly in the following passage: "This member
of the oppressed dass, however, even though one, of the well
paid and quite intellectual workers, takes.the bull by the ho~ns
with that astonishing simplicity and straightforwardness, With
that firm determination and amazing clarity of. outlook, from
which we inteUectuals are as remote as the st;l(S III the sky. The
whole world is divided into twO camps: 'us', rhe working people, and 'them', the explo~ters.:..."
.
"'What a painful thlllg IS thiS exceptionally complicated
situation" created by the revolution,' that's how a bourgeois
intellectual thinks and feels.
I Ibid., VOI,I, p. 187
2 Ibid., p. 190.
3 Ibid . Vol. 8. p. 448.
( Ibid .. Vol. 19. p. l08.
(; Ibid .. Vol. II. p .pS.
3-1l17l1

32

33

"'Wc squeezed "them" .

01 bi,t, "thl.:\" won't d.H'" to lord it oyer
..
-fore:
ag,lln-and chulk lill'1ll Ollt
h 'd'd
usastc)
I be
. Wl."l1 SljUeCZC .
' \,"1
altogether; that's how the workc:r dllnks ;l.ud I~I':~.,
.
We shall further rc~cx;lminc thL' 111I.'on':lIl,11 Imp;h." tor sounl
psychology as a science of L",'nin's (urson lorrnuL\t101l of the

"we and they" principle.

.
It is essentially a concrete indicator of the ,ompl~tc mntunt)
of thc workers' re\'olutionary spirit. As soon as this "we and
they" concept emerges thc show~own i,s inc\"itabl~;. "T~lC dC,tcr.
mination of the working class.' Lentn wrote,

Its mflcxtblc

adherence to thc watchword 'Death rather dUln surrend er!' is

not only a historical factor, it is thc decisive, the \Vinnin~. factor.":! It impels the proletariat to armed struggle and milItary
victor;-;;-Ail --e xp16itcd class which did not strive to possess
anns, to know how to usc them and to master the military art
would be a class of lackeys. ":1
Although Lenin held the complete liberation of the spirit of
the masses from the capitalist heritage possible only after the
socialist revolution, he regarded the revolutionary struggle and
the revolution proper as potent educators of the masscs.
"The real education of the masses can nevcr be separated from
their ... revolutionary struggle. Only struggle educates the
exploited class. Only struggle discloses to it the magnitude of its
own power, widens its horizon, enhances its abilities, clarifies
its mind, forges its will."'i When a revolutionary war, Lenin
said, attracts and interests the oppressed masses it engenders
the strength and ability to perform miracles .:i This concerns not
only the proletariat, which is the foremost revolutionary class, but
also the peasants. Speaking of the 1905-1907 revolution, Lenin
said that "out of a mob of muzhiks repressed by feudal slavery
memory, this revolution created, for the first tim e
a people beginning to understand its rights, beginnin g to
strength".6
so long as the revolution did not exercise a reverse inon the psychology of the masses under pre-revolution ary
and "peaceful" conditions, all of Lenin's socio-psychological
observations were subordinated to the one problem of ap prais~ V. I. Lenin, Collected Worb, Vol. 26. p.
Ibid. Vol. JO, p. 4'4.
J Ibid., Vol. H. p. 19'.
, Ibid. Vol. 29. p. 241.
I Ibid.. Vol. JO, p. IS2.

H O.

ing ;IS lully ,1\ posslhk and unlUn~ thc pott.:ntial 010.:10 tll.ot
could t.:itht.:r dirt.:ctly or inuirculy aid in the rt.:volution. The
task was to graduall~' ml:rg'.... all ~treamlct~. all the dividcd
streams, all tht.: scparate drl)ps of prott.:st. To bcgin with, of
courst.:, onc had to rely primarily on the objcuive t.:ommunity
of jntcre~ts; hut thc imnH:diate concern was about the ~uhiec
tive, thc psydlOlogit.:al aspect. Ilcrc is how Lcnin exprt.:\\t.:d it;
"To gathcr, if onc may so put it, and concentrate all these drops
and streamlets of popular resentment that arc brought forth to
a far larger extcnt than we imagine by the conditions of Rus
sian life, and that must be combined into a single gi~antic
torrent." r
Lenin's science of revolution centres on dctecting cvery sign
of unrest and even the most negligible trends that could bc
integrated in the rcvolutionary camp. As early as 1901 Lenin
wrote that "public unrest is growing among the cntire pcople
in Russia ... and it is our duty as revolutionary Social-Democrats ... to teach them (the progressive working-class intellec
tuals-Ed.] how to take advantage of the flashes of social protest
that break out, now in one place, now in another".:!
The paramount task was to unite the various outbreaks of
d iscontent and protest among the working class. With deep
insight Lenin described the psychological effects of manifestations
by g rou ps of workers on other workers. 'Despite all these sufferings brought on by strikes, rhe workcrs of ncighbouring factories gain renewcd courage when rhey sec that their comradcs
ha vc engaged themselves in struggle .... It is often enough for
one factory to str ike, for strikes to begin immediately in a large
number of factor ics. \Xfhat a great moral influcnce strikes have,
how they aA"ect workers who sce that their comrades haye ceased
to be slaves and , if only for the time bcing, have become pcople
on an eq ual footing with the rich!':~
But such contagion is no mere diffu~i~n of mo_o.ds and actions;
it is also a transition to a highcr level. -'-'When the movcmcnt
is in its early stagc," wrote Lenin, "the economic strike often
ha s thc effect of awakcning and stirring up the backward, of
making thc movcmcnt :l gencral one, of raising it to a higher
level. "Ii
, Ibid ..
~ Ibid ..
:1 Ibid.,
It Ibid.,

Ibid,. Vol. 17, p. 89.

34

3'

Vol.

j.

p. 420.

p. lilt!.
Vol. "" p. \ I~.
Vol. .8. p. 8-1.
3;)

] ,cnin makes thc following obsen"ation about the influence of

workers' strikes on the peasants : "Onl\' thc waves of mass strikes
roused the broad masses of peasants from their lethargy. The
word 'striker' acquired an entirely new meaning rtmong the pea, ;\!ltS: it signified a rebel, rt revolutionary, ;\ term previously expn.:\scd by thc word 'student". But thc 'litudcnt' bel onged to the
middle class, to the 'learned', to rhe 'gentry', and was therefore
alien to the people. The 'striker', on the other hand, was of the
peoplej he belonged to the exploited class."! Thi s works in
with the emergence of thc "we and they" complex in popular
psychology. Minute bridges, such as the distinct preference for
the word "striker" to the word "student", produce the psychological sense of community betwcen peasants and workers and
their common sense of opposition to thc masters, although the
s!)(lo-economic roots of thc revolutionary sentiment of workers
nnd peasants are essentially differcnt.
Lenin speaks of the peasants' lethargic sleep in thc political
~cnsc only, implying their being distant to the proletarian movement. Thc peasants treated the 1905 events with their own
hlind revolutionary sentiment. "The peasant necd s land ," Lenin
wrote, "and his revolutionary fceling, his instinctive, primitive
5ensc of democracy cannot express itself othcrwise than by lay~
inli;: hands on the landlord's land.":.!
Lenin associated this psychological trait with the peculiarities
of the economic mould. "There are in Russia," hc wrote, "im~
mc;\,\ur.:\ bly more survivals of serfdom among the masses of thc
pcople, in thc rural districts, in thc agrarian systcm-hence the
more primitive, more direct rcvolutionary sentiments among thc
peasantry and among the working class, which is closely con ~
fleetcd with thc peasantry," And he amplificd: "This revolution ~
ary ~entiment undoubtedly exprcsses less proletarian da ss-con~
l'(;i()u~ness than 'protcst', common to both the peasants and thc
workers. ":!
Thc Menshcviks, like thc Economists, took notc of thc social
p~ych()l()gy. At least in words. But for them thc psychological
difference bct~'een workers and peasants was an argument in
fa\Qur of thel[ dogma that no consistent revolutionary alliance
between thc working class and thc peasants was possibl e. They

! VIbid.. !... Lenin

ColleCl~d. Works, Vol. 13. p. 1.B.
Vol. I, p. z.n,
J

Ibid Vol. 12, p. 6-4,

built a. Chinese wall between the proletariat and the peasants,

for which rcason none of their theories could accommodate in
the revolutionary framework the sentiments of both thc workers
and the peasants.
.Lenin pr?ved that thesc dogmatic concepts were incompatible
with Marxism. To him it was cvident that the revolution in
Ru.ssia, as in many other countries, could win only through an
alhancc of the forces of protest and discontent. To divide forces
just because the armchair dogmatists had construed it to be
ncccssary was tantamount to betraying the revolution. But an
effcctive alliance of the proletariat and peasantry in their rev~
olutionary effort required knowledge both of the common and
specific features of their social psychology, enabling thc workers
to cxcrt a psychological influence on the peasant masses. Lenin's
dcscription of the weaknesses of the peasant psychology wa~
severc and real: "The peasants were soothed as one soothes little
children .... How were they duped? By false promises."1 We have
already seen in Lenin's sketch of Lev Tolstoy's peasant outlook
thc non-revolutionary, reactionary aspcct of the peasant psychology. Even when speaking of its revolutionary qualities, Lcnin
underscored its inferiority to the prolctarian psychology. "Solidarity, organisation, and dass~consciousness," he pointed out,
"are naturally much less developed among the peasants than
among the workers. Thus therc still remains an almost untapped
field of serious and rewarding work of political education."2
This shows that Lcnin did not consider the matter beyond
repair. But the peasants, including the poor, "have always and
in every country proved to be less persistent in their struggle
for libcrty and for socia lism than the workers".3
Lenin's obscrvations are subordinated to the one aim of discovering all factors, incl uding the psychological, that could serve
not to alienate but to unite and rally the workers and peasants
in common rcvolutionary actions. Here, for examplc, is something
that comforted Lenin at a time when the relations between thc
Soviet proletarian government and thc peasants were somewhat strained (1911). Lenin remarked that a pcasant reluctant
to fall in with the Soviet government felt slightcd when "the
poor peasants of his district had callcd him a 'bourgcois', and
I Ibid., Vol.
2 Ibid., Vol.
3 Ibid., Vol.

l~, p.
I'.
II,

146.

p. )81.
p. )9~

37
36

he tell this w he an a/Tront ... a disgrall,:tul word. . thi s word

mC;\I1S .... \"cr\"thing: it is the 1usis of our prop;l.~anda and agita
tinn .'lnJ tile inilu!,;ncc e,erciscd Iw the workin g cLlss through
the ~t.W... ".1 Lcnin S:lW Ihis as OTle..' of Illany prouts that the
w()rkin!.! d~l'S had the support of the m;ljority of the peas .lnts,
excc.:pt 'tllL' kulak ... and profiteers. This point, seeminglY ,I purel)
pS\"dlOtOgicll one, mMk~ ;) dcflnite st,lge ill rhc making of a
"wc" group - peasants and workcrs togcthcroppo~ l.:u to the
"the\"" gnHlp-the bourgeoisie.
As WI.: l\ec, Lenin kept a close w:.1tch on the slip;htest te\'olution<lr~ possibilitie5 , on spontancnus and un~on sci()tLs d iscontcnt
and protest, e\"en in the years of the rudimentary form s of tevolutionoH} struggle and at times of reaction and despondency.
This, in ordcr to merge and multipl y them,
Lenin's intcrest in the reverse psychologic<ll phenomenatradition, routine and custom-was always aimed at removing
hindrances to the rcvolution.
"The force of habit in millions and tens of milli ons," Lenin
wrote, "is :.1 most formidable force.":.! To overCome the force
of habit is difficult, and not only before but a lso after th e revolution. The fight against habits formed over the ce ntu ries, particularl~' those rooted in every petty proprietor, takes years of
persistcnt organisational work even after the complete overthrow
of the exploiting dasses.;\ And one can but imagine the burdcn
rhat habits presented in rhe dark pre-revol utionary period.
Speaking of the violation of Finland' s Constitution by the t sarist
govcrnment in J90r, Lenin said: "\Y./e arc still s laves to such an
extent that we arc employed to reduce other peop les to slavery.""
But Lenin paid far less attention to these psycho logi cal traits
of hahit and submissiveness than he did to signs of discontent
and struggle, be they ever so trifling.
The spirit of protest overpowers that of habit and submission.
When strikers held out in the Obukhov Works in P etersburg in
1901. Lenin wrote: "Yes, we rej oice in these co nO icts and arc
encouraged by them, hecause the working cla ss is proving by its
resistancc that it is not rcconciled to its pos ition, that it refu ses
to remain in slavery or to suhmit meckly to v:ulencc and tyranV, I. Lellin. C"lfedt'd ",'or!.-,
Vul. p. p.
II:.'
2 It.id. VI,I. p. p, 44.
:I Ibid .. Vol. 19. p. 11,.
, Ibid .. VIII. " p. ,10.
1

38

"

(10 .

11\ ' I till: working da'is, he wntil1ueu, prcfc..:rs to die fil.dltil1~

than to tilt: slowly the death of a Hog.s,:ed nag.

The UlIIlIliOn people, it sec..:m~, Lenin remarkcd, arc..: ~till <I~lccp,
hut their slcep i~ ~f) light that cvcn minor O:lIrrcnce~ rf)U~C thcm
to gfe,H exdte.:lllent. I,e.:nin pointcJ to this amhivalence in de.:
.. aihing the.: c..:vents prc..:ccding the 190, rc..-olution: "The broad
mass!';s, however, werc ~till too naive, thc..:ir mood was too p.\\.
sive, too goodnatured, too christian. They flared up rather
quickly; any in ... tance of injustice, excessively harsh trcrttmc..:nt by
the officers, bad food, etc., could lead to revolt.":! Thi'i ira'icihil
ity struck Lenin's eye when he observed directly thc 190, evcnts:
"Mock elections will never rouse the maS'ies. However, a strike,
a demonstration, lnutiny in the armed forces, a serious students'
outbreak, famine, mobilisation, or a conflict in the State Duma,
etc., etc., can really rOI'.fe the masses, constantly, at an~' hOllr.";1
All these were but particles which in due COUf'ie mer~ed into
a broad, united attack of all the social forces of protest ap;a in st
the monarchy and the existing order.
Notwithstanding the lasting naive trust in the tsar and the
pr im it ive social outlook, Lenin emphasised the paramount importance of the "revolutionary instinct now asserting itself amon~
the proletariat", the latter's "protest" and "encq:~y" b(eakin~
down the police barriers and the immaturity and backwardness
of some of the leaden;."
Lenin described a similar breakthrough of habits and traditions in connection with the Second \'(forld \Var among "millions
of sem i-pro letarians and petty bourgeois, now decei\"ed by chauvinism, but whom the horrors of war will not only intimidate
and d epress, but also enlighten, teach, a[Qus~, .organise, s~ee! an~
prepare for the war against t~e bourgeoLsL~ of theLr own
~()LJntr)' and 'foreign' countri es."'> In 19'7 Lenin was e\'cn more
certain of this: " The Ru ssian people-who always shed blo.ad
w ithout a murmur, and have d one the 'will of an ()ppressl~'e
govcrnment when quite ignorant of its aims and p.lLrpo~~~-:wdl
und ou btedl y. .. with so much more courage ;lnd ngour to hght
for socialism.
1 Ibit!" Vol.
., Ibid .. Vol.
:1 Ihid., Vol.
I Ibid., Vol.
!i Ibid . Vol.
II I bid., Vol.

~,p. l \ .

:,. p. loll.

9. p. ,6(,.
8. p. 91

p. 40.
l6, p. H6.

1I.

39

Two more points need to be madc.

What is behind Lenin's confidence that PWl l.:s t an d discon
tent, the energy of resistance, will cvcntually merge? First of
all the fact that the proletariat is objectively destined to liberate
not only itself, but all the working people and sOliety from
exploitation and antagonism, and secondly, Lenin held that the
authority of the working class draws on the authority of world
revolutionary experience. The working class, wrote Lenin , needs
authorities, "the proletarians of e"ery country nced the authority
of the world-wide struggle of the pwletariat. We need the
authority of the theoreticians of international Social-D emocracy
to enable us properly to understand the programme a nd tactics
of our Party. But, of course, this authority has nothing in common with the official authorities in bourgeois science and police
politics. "1
Finally we should point out that Lenin had his eyes on the
psychology not only of the lower, but also of the upper classes.
Summation of all particles of protest and indignation at one
&ocial extreme meant growth of an opposite sentiment at the
other. Let us see what Lenin said on this score: " G enerall y
speaking, it must be said that our reactionaries (including, of
course, the entire top bureaucracy) reveal a fine political instinct.
They are so well-experienced in combating oppositions, popular
'revolts', religious sects, rebellions, and revolutionaries, that they
are always on the qui vive and understand far better than naive
simpletons and 'hMcst ~ies' that the autocracy can never
reconcile itself to self-reliance, honesty, independent convictions,
and pride in real knowledge of any kind whatsoever. So thoroughly imbued are they with the spirit of subservience and red tape
that prevails in the hierarchy of Russian officialdom that they
have contempt for anyone who is unlike Gogo!'s Akaky Akaki yevich or, to use a more contemporary simile, the Man in a Case."2
5. ROM THE FIRST RUSSIAN REVOLUTION TO THE SECOND

If Lenin's observations on social

chronologically, we should find that
to two time centres: the I90~-1907
from 1917 to 1911. This was when
I V.l Lenin. ColUeled Wo,.." Vol.
1 Did., Vol. " pp. 111-12.

II.

40

psychology wcre arran ged

in quantity they gravitate
revolution and the period
Lenin scrutinised the most

pp. 41.H5.

suhj cctivc and intimate aspect') in the life of the mas<;es and
classes. We have H . ~n that although Lenin was not a psychotog
ist by profession, he W;l .. one as politician and revolutionary.
And only naturally it wa,; at times when the task of [evolution
took mrlteriai shape that hi,; psychological insight becamc more
acute.
I t wa<; not just that Lenin's interest in the psychological
aspects of the revolution increased at these times, but that he
believed, and the facts bore out, that revolutions arc attended by J
d ra matic changes in the psychics of individuals, of masses of
people, and of entirc nations. That is when a revolutionary
wo rthy of the name must be a psychologist more than ever.
" E very revolution," Lenin explained, "means a sha rp tu rn in the
li ves of a vast number of pcople .. . . And just as any turn in
the life of an indi':idual teaches him a great deal and brin gs
rich expe rience and great emotional stress, so a revolution
teaches an entire people very rich and valuable lessons in a
short space of t ime. During a revolution, millions an~ tens of
millions of people learn in a week more than they do 10 a year
of ordinary, somnolent life."l
H e wrote this in 1917, but at the height of the 1905 re"oiution
Lenin w rote and felt the same : "In the history of re"olutions
there come to light contradictions that ha,'e ripened for decades
and cent uries. Life becomes unusually eventful. The masses,
which have always stood in the shade and have therefore often
been ignored and cven despised by superficial observers, enter
the political are na as active combatants. T hese masses are lea:ning in practi ce, and before ~he ey~s of the w~rld ar~ ta~tng
th eir first tentati ve steps, feeltng thei r way, defi nlO? t~elr obJectives, testing themselves and the theories of ~Il theJ[ ldeologl~ ts.
These ma sses are mak ing heroic efforts to ClSC to the occasIOn
and cope with the giga ntic tas ks of worl? s~g?i ficance imposed
upon them by history; and howe\Ter. great IOdlvl dua l defeats may
be, howeve r shatte rin g to us the f1"ers of bl.oo~ and the th~ll
san ds of vic tims, nothing wilt cver compare 10 Importanc~ wI ~h
this direct tra in ing that the masses and the classcs [ccel"c 10
the course of the rc,o lutio nary struggle itself.":!
And here is one more passage from a 1917 report on the l<)O ~
revolution, which revealed thc dormant energy of the proleI Ibid " Vol. .:~ . p. 2l~.
:! Ibid ., Vo\. 8, p. 104-

41

"I.

.. I

tit)fl-u\

1.'1)(1(11 . -

till' prokl.ui"t

((III gl' lll'f;l! \..'

ranat:
n.1 rl.:\O U
".
.
," ,
,. _.
< h'
bUlldrt'r/ IllIIn ~n'({II'r ,h;lll 111 orl lIun. Pl'1LL
ng tlng cncr~~' fl
.
. I '" I
". k

It
h(,
..

dnt
lll)
to
It)O~
lll;lllkllH
III
1101
Hl
no \\
u times.
s ... ~

. . -

f'

h"r it tremendous
of dlOrl rhe prok,tar.
rc at......
w4tag
.cxcrtiOn
.
.
h
. '
d will be capablc of III ;l light for re;,lh grcat <llllh,
lat IS, an
,
.
1"1
and une waged in a really rcyolutlOll;u, m,lIIner.
Quoted were Lenin's yjews on slH:i;ll, PS\dlOlogr in the period
between 1905 and 1907. They bear witness to ;, ShiHP growth
of Lenin's interest in this nspcct of publ ic lif!,! ,
But let us list below some addilion,,! obscl'\';nions relatin g
to thc collapse of failh in thc tsa r. Lenin helll that wh<lt was
left of the childish faith in the tsar would vn ni sh the moment
the revolucionary energy and instinct of the working class bur st
the police ruses and artifices. 2 "Generation after ge ne ration of
downtrodden , half-civilised, rustic existence cut off from th e
world," he noted, "tended to strengthen this faith. Every month
of life of the new urban, industrial, literate Russia ha s been
undermining and deStroying this faith. ":1
Because of this the decade preceding the revolution produced
many thousands of Social-Democrats who had co nsciously repudiated this faith. "It has educated scores of thousands of workers in whom the class instinct, strengthe ned in the strike movement and fostered by political agitation, has shattered this faith
to its foundations. ,.t, Hence, the reverse predictions and prospects: "The masses of workers and peasants who sti ll retained
a vestige of faith in the tsar were not ready for insurrection we
said. After J~nuary 9 we have the right to say that now 'they
arc ready for Insurrection and will risc."3
In 1905 Lenin wrote: "Nor is it only-the barometer that indicat~s ~ storm: everything has been di slodged by the mi ghty
whlfl~lnd of a concerted proletarian onslaught. "6 What far reaching ch.ang:s took place during this short period of storm,
how man:' I,','uslons were ~h.atte red, how many new psychic traits
appeared. The bourgeOIsie and the landlord s have become
~erce and ~r~1. The man in the street is weary. The Russian
Intellectual IS Ilm~nd despondent. Thc party of libcral wind-

V,. I. Lenin. Collu/ed ",,'orh. Vol.

l Ibid . Vol. 8. p. 107.
Ibid.. p. 112..

2~,

~ Ibid.

! Ibid . p.IIJ.
Ibid . Vol. 9. p. '9:.

42

p. 240.

hags and liberal l;ailors, the Cadets, has raised its he.ll!. huplng
tel make elpital out (J( tht.: prevailing weariness hurn Cli the

n.:volllti(Hl. But hele)w, deep down among the prolel;\fi;1Il

m,H<;CS ;\11(.1 ;\I1UlIlg the mass of the de,-titute, <;tarvin b PC,l\;ltHn',
the rt.:volullon has made headway, quieti)' and impt:rlC:ptihlr
ulldermillinl.: the foundations, rou<;ing the mo\t .somllelkm with
the thulldt.:r ()( cl\iI war "1
Then the counter-revolution gained the uppcr hand and years
of reaction fol1owed. The number of Lenin's oh\ervatiol1s 011
social psychology diminishes. In 19o9, however, he writt.:s ell
length for the first time about the petty bourgeoisie and tht.:
philistines: "Today, in the period of sweeping counter-revolutionary repressions, the philistines arc adapting themsc\ves in
cowardly fashion to the new masters, currying favour with new
caliphs 'for an hour, renouncing thc past, trying to forgct it.":'!
But he knew thesc phenomena to bc skin-deep, for nothing on
earch could rcverse the spiritual changcs produced by the re\Oolution. These were irrc\'ersible, they wcrc in thc heans and
mind s of millions of people and would surfacc sooner or later
as does thc winter seed. To bear out his point, Lenin pointed
to simi lar spiritual changes left behind by thc Paris CommunI.:
of 1871. "Thc cpic of its life and death," Lenin wrOte, "the
sight of a workcrs' gO\'crnmellt which seized the capital of thc
world and held it for O\'cr twO months, thc spcctacle of the
hcroic struggle of the proletariat and. t~e torm.e~ts it underwent
aftcr its defeat-all this raised the SPl[lt of mLlltons of workers,
aroused their hopcs and enlistcd their sympathy for the cause
of socialism. The thund e r of the cannon in Paris wakencd the
most backward scct ions of the proletariat from their deep. slumbcr, a nd evcrywhcre gave impetu s to the g rowth of revo lutionary
.'
socia li st propagan da. ":I
The December 190~ cvents IIkewlsc c rca~cd an ~ftcrmath th ~t
no reaction could fully stamp out. As Lenin put It, thc exploit
of the ~loscow workcrs was an unforgcttable cxample for the
" , 't "s t,,tcd .., deep ferment among the urban and rural
1113sSCs, I
,,,,.
.
. d d
." .
.k " people ' the effccts of whIch never d Le
own,
WOI Lnt"'
.
. III 1SpltC
g
of :111 persecution .. : . After the Dccem~,~~ evcnts It IS no on (.;[ the S,\ l11e peop le. It has becn bo rn ane\\ .
IhiJ.,
:.! Ibid.,
:1 Ibid ..
4 Ibid .,
I

Vnl. Il. pJl. II.I-I~.

Vol. if, pp. ~0,1.
Vol. p, p. lB
Vol. :S, p. ;73

43

.......... of this Lenin observed at the beginning of the

iQI ~ .;;!!a......
.
1 1 . 1
~
I ':_.rv upsurge certain psyc 10 ogtC:1 sy mptoms,
_
d,OU"_J
.
. they still were, among ~ hc wor k c~s : S'Ig OS, 0 I
: , Ippeared in ~9IO. with ,e conomIC a~'d .p0lt~~cal strikes
~ OC overlappmg and fusm g the prokta.rla~. The prolc_ _ . . bsun. The democratic youth m e cootIOUI"?, The Ru s.... people are awakening to new strugg le, ad vancmg towards
. . . . aevolution. The first beginning of the struggle has shown
...... that the forces are alive wh ich shook the tsarist reg ime
~
I.'~
.
,
.
period. it is true, was psychologIcally pecul iar: in the
~ of open struggle, the mas ses showed a des ire for general
. l;;coretica1 knowledgc. 2
AID. with increased revolutionary activity, w e fi nd Len in's
intefcst increasing in the psychological processes underway in
ftriow: strata of the working class, among the peasants and other
JOrial groups. This growth of revoluti ona ry fee ling led in the
6n. 1 count to the October Revolution.
Lenin foresees the coming of the second revo lution which as
early as 191 J displayed a much greate r potenti al of proletaria n
revolutionary energy than the first reyolution. Thi s livening up
tOilCS not from above, although the class co nsciousness, experience and determination of the worki ng class a nd its vangua rd ,
the
have grown. "In our country," Le nin w(Qte , "this
place spontaneously, because te ns of mi ll ions of
and peasant population a re pass ing on, if
to their vanguard a sentiment of conwhich is surgin g up a nd overflowing."3
~icture a
in 1913, a red banne r flu ttering
1ft the streets
capital, revolutiona ry speeches and slogans
adcI~~ to crowds. A strike like that , L enin says, can neither
be "pled DOr stopped when it seizes upon hund reds and
huDdleds of thousands of people. But the stri ke as such is just
~ ....... CD arouse and attract feelin gs of protest an d i ndignac..... aU ova the vast country. " It is essential," Le nin add s, "that
. . .'-a:aldlring resentment and subdued murmurings of the
~ obould, along with the indignation in the barracks,
aattre of attraction in the w o rke rs' revolutionary stri kes.""

.a.:

LLeaIe ColkctedWQrks. Vol. 16, p. 318.

..... Val. 17. p. U .
...... Vol. II, p. ''12.

..... p.m.

Let ll~ pass over changt.:s brought about in rna,;:. psychology

by the F irst World War in Russia and abroad. Partly, the proleta riat was smothered by bourgeois chauvinism, but nn the wh~le
the war did not halt th~ surge of revolutionary sentiment.
T hen carne 1917 \vht.:n the uplift was so steep tll<lt it tllrllnl
in to a revolutionary crisis. Again Lenin's psychological pakttc
abou nds in colour. Among the facts to which Lenin attaches
importance is the shift from one camp to another of a "broad,
changeful and vacillating mass", generally more or less identifiable as the peasantry. It gravitates now to the right, now to
the left, Lenin says. At the beginning of 1917 this mass, as
exemplified by the soldiers, "swung away Irom the capitalists
towards the revolutionary workers. It was the swing or movement of this mass, strong enough to be a decisive factor, that
caused the crisis".1
" Revolutionary crisis" or "rcvolutionary situation" is a very
impo rtant concept in Lenin's social psychology heritage. Hc produced thc teach ing of the revolutionary situation-part of the
"scie nce of revolution"-in the period between the tWO rcvolutions. Though most of the initial ideas are f.ound .in articl~s
da ting to 190j-1907 it was outlined more succlflctly 10 1913 10
M ay D ay Action
tbe Revolutionar>,. Proletariat. and T~e
A djoumed D uma and the Embarrassed Llberals, then I~ 19} 5 10
Tbe Collapse 01 the Second Intemational, and later In Le/t\'(I;ng' Communism, All Iulantile Disorder. (19 20 ) .
H ere, howcve r, we are concerned With that aspect of t~e
concept of revolutiona ry sit uation that i llustr~t~s the role LeDIn
ass igned to the psychology, the mood and actiVity of the masses.
As Lenin saw it, the shi ft of [he masses from ~ state of passivity to an activc state of Jnd ~gnation and rcbcl!ton was ~ne of
the most importa nt contri butlOg factors of the revol~t1o.nary
situation. In his w orks of 19 I 5 this change of st~te IS l~st~~
second and third among the sy mptoms of a reYOlutlOnary S lt~.l
t'on' "2.) when thc suffe ring and want of the opprcssed classes
1

h
1' ) whcn as a consequence
'. h
..
have grown more acute t an usua 3 ' . '
of the abovc causes, the re is a co~si.dcrabl~l lflcr~~~~~~I~.e~ ~~tI~~
ity of the masses , who uncomplalOtngly a . ow
d
both
. ,
' .' but in turbulent times, arc rawn
,
robbed 111 peace tlme, f' h
. .
d by tbe 'upper claJJes
by all the circumsta nces 0 t. e C~1SlS an. "2
tbemselves in to ind ependent hlston cal actlon .

by

I
2

Ibid., Vol.
Ibid., Vol.

24 ,
21,

p.
p.

214
214

45

., f the "upper dol~"I..'~" (otl(l'I"lh !-.o(lill Ih) chol ogy

The C~ISISr:.
h -' "ra,k. " through \\llI(h tilt: dl 'icolHt.'1lt and
becluse ,it P EUC~S t ~p~rcsscJ C);.lSSl'S hurst fonh ",' In thl'
and.patlOD h? tpee F,',s/ 0/ ~\ld)' (II/t! \\ '(If (II)IS) l.e l1111 sum
-L-cract 0 f IS pa r
,
..
.... ' t h e essence of a r<;,volutlt1n ;uySltuatlOIl
as ~ollf)ws:
mnsed
,I
A(C& ) tite 1ower classes do not \\';\nt, the J
uppet" l ,"'ses cannot
""
't.

of suffering: ( T ) c,tr;l()f 111M) ill:tIVlt)'. A

y)
I88ravatlon
, . I
I.
I
(
A.
'd bove the sources of I.CI1111 s ;Her [t,'il( llnl!; on t 1C
.n>.11 a

'
I f II '
' ary situation arc tr<lccablc to 1904. itS 111 t 1C 0 oWing
t1:VO1Ut Ion
."
.
brief formula: the Part)' of the prolct;Hl~t ~llll st start an upnsthe moment when the government IS III the most d esperate
Ul&as and popular unrest IS
, at '1'1
"Jj"~ C(C t IlC. psyc h0,traits
ItS. llg lcst:
logical aspect stands out in bol? .[chcf. And III 190~ Lcnln. wrotc
that slogans calling for an UprtSlIlg arc prcmatu re If no signs of
a crisis arC in evidcncc and "until the masses ha ve definitely
,baWD that they have been roused and arc ready to act".1i
Much later, long after he had worked out hi s teaching on revolutionary situations, Lenin drew the following picture of thi s
aspect in the emergence of the revolutionary si tuati on after the
January events of 190 j :
"Within a few months, , . the picture changed completel y, The
hundreds of revolutionary Social-Democrats 'sudd enly' grew into
thousands; the thousands became the leaders of between two
and duee million proletarians. The proletaria n struggle produced
widespread ferment, often revolutionary movements among the
peasant masses, fifty to a hundred million strong; the peasant
~ov~ent had its reverberations in the army and led to soldiers revolts, to armed dashes between one section of the army
~ another. In this manner a colossal country, with a populabon of 13~,ooo,ooo, went into the revolution; in this way, dQ[mant R~'18. was transformed into a Ru ssia of a revolu tionary
proletanat and a revolutionary people, "')
. In .191 j Lenin exa'
mmes t he emergence of a new revolut 'IOnary
~The"'t.Ion and note. the following socio-psychological fa ctors:
' g
of lOCismouldering
',dow indignat'Ion 0 f t hC masses, the vague yea rl11n
.... cty.,
ntrodden and Ignorant strata for a kin dly
(.d
....
_IUOCXratIC) peace the b "
f
'
eglOnlOg 0 di scontent among thc
V L I "in Colle led W Au
' V
LI",
OT,VOI.

2I ,p.21"

Collected W ks F'
V L I [hio 'CoIL dIVoT , Irtb Ru\sian Edition, Vol. 26, p. 379
!hid V I '
t!'te
arks, Vol. 8, p. 27.
5 . '. O9,P56,.
Ibid., Vol. 25. p. 2,8.
- : 110

46

all tht:'sc ... ,C faCts.

fhe cxpcricnc..: of the.: w :',
I k(" tltc expe.: ii'nCr of .. nv " I I in :lIstory, ol 111\ grc t cal.lm
It\ .111d ;111)
U( (kn tJrn1O human life, stuns dnd hrcak~ some
people, bllt l'IIItI/J/(!n and lemper.( {Jlbers."1
NflW. cOll1e~ .11)17, thc )car of world-wide signitloncc '1 he
rcvolutHH13r r I-oltuation in Europe is a fact,' Lcnin writl"s 'The
cxtn.:mc disCf)ntent, the unrcst and anger of the m,l~~CS arc fau~.
Jt is on strengthenin/; Ibis correne that revolutionary Social-Ol:m .
ocrats must concemratc all their cfforts."':'! In A Leiter to ComradL's Lenin summarisc" what he knows of the feelings of the
masses: "that 'cvcrybody' rcports it as a tense and cxpectant
mood . , . that 'everybody' agrees that the workers arc grcatly
dissatisfied with the indecision of the centres concerning thc
'last decisivc st ruggle' ... that 'everybody' unanimou::;ly characteriscs thc mood of thc broadest masses as c10sc to desperation, ";1 Lenin sums it up in two words: "enough of wavering.""
That is the psychological aspect of the political process witnessing a stccp growth of the acti\e masses and of their activity. Here is how Lenin putS it: "Symptomatic of any gcnuine
rC\'olution is a rapid, tenfold and e\'en hundredfold increase in
the size of the working and oppressed masses-hithcr.to apathetic
- who arc capable of waging the political struggle. " J Elsewhcre
hc says: "A rcvolution is nOt made to order: it results from an
outburst of mass indignation. "ij

'loWCI" lLlSSCS

6. POST.REVOLUTION PSYCHOLOGICAL PHENOMENA .AND TASKS

It seems propcr to say that we saw Lenin more distinctly as

a psychologist in thc POst-OctOber p~riod: The funda~cntal
orienta tion changed. Beforc the revolution It had becn futde to
think of an all-round transformation of man; the most one could
expcct was for thc rC\'olutionary struggle to rc-cduca.tc .an.d
transfigure man. After the r~yolution, eliminating th~, c.apltahstl~
heritage from the psychological makc~up of [he massc::;-n~ ma~
tel' how difficult and long ;l process It was-becamc practicable.
1 Ibid ..
., Ib id ..
:1 Ibid .,
" Ibid .,
. Ibid .,
I; Ibid .,

Vol. 11, pp. 1n-16.

Vul. 1.;, p. !-O,
Vol. !(" p. 101).
Vul. 1~, p. 11 0 .
Yo\. ,,1, p. SS.
\ "01. 16, p. loll.

L
the October Revolution, Lc.:nin put down
be
- JelJll()C:ivabJe
days .ore in his cadier wCltlng~.:
, '
"[I P
Id
.. 1.e .a~t~ COU
Hid by the temper of the masses hU~lh(; It \~ ,h lh;H~gl..'_
. : ! ___ t
lable' the Party Illu:-t hI.' gU1Jcd by an ohJl,x
.......
c an
u appraisal
,
I'
'1'1lC ma s"I.:S had
....a,.u
aod
tI~ the ft..'nl UllOl1.
dIeir crust in the Bolsheviks ;llId demand ed deed s from
aocI not words ... "1 Yes, on .th e eye of th~ seizurc of
..,., J,mjn singled out the only lIuportant se nti ment, COIll........ which all the others arc immaterial: the people had put
. . crust in the Bolsheviks. The SOCialist Re\'olutIOn w.as bound
.. take place. The day after it took place all psyc hologIcal tasks
..wei be essentially different and In a ccrtalll se nse Opposite to
before the revolution. To be su re, Lenin knew that this
tuansition from historical somnolence to new hi storical creativcae.s" 2 this shift from enthusiasm cen tred on revolu tionary
taW' to a creative enthusiasm centred on buildin g a new life
would not be a rapid one. However, it opened up a new chapter
an t.enin's science of social psychology.
From now on the essential task was to maintain the hold on
powa. Before the revolution, winning power was the corner~
slooe of the revolutionary psychology of the masses; now the
main ay was to retain this power. Lenin wrote in 1 920: the
.0; .... (1. peasants and Red Army men "have suffered mOre dur~
iDs melc tbrcc years than the workers did during the early years
of capitalist slavery. They have endured cold, hunger and sufcriag-all this in order to retain power. "3 He had predicted in
the early stage of the revolution that the ma sses would show
les
bound heroism, energy and self-sacrifice in defend ing the
tevolution and coping with the difficultie s besetting the Soviet
The ......
e groups andt h
c "t I
ley" g roups were essen ~
tially
the former stood for the revo lutionary peoplc
and for their new social system, multiplying the spiritual
stlll:ngt" of the "we" group and evoking profound senti ment.
"ViuOil will be on the side of the exploited," Lenin wrote soon
after tbc Oc:tobcr B.evolution, "for on their sid e is Hfe, numeri~
cal ~ the Ib . .gth of the mass, the strength of the inexhaust1b'c 'Oillrcel of aU that is selfless dedicated and honest,
all that iI Inlli", forward and awakeni:lg to the building of the
new,
the vat reserves of energy and talent latent in the

an

; IV'dl L z, CcUecled Works, Vol. 26, pp. 19 1z 9 2.

3 hi . Vol. 2.7. P. 210.
Ibid. Vol ,I, p. <401.

48

so-called 'common people', the workers and peasants. Victory

will be theirs." I The COuntcr-rc\"olutionaric~. it i, true, hccame
:ldiH: tOf). I~ut , i.ellin ohscrvcu, "ne) mattn how grt:<lt may br.:
the <lnger ~lnu indignation in !>ome circles ... deep among the
people a (';(Jlhtructive process is taking place, an accumulation of
energy and discipline, which will give us the strength to surz
d ve all blows")!
The psychological birth of the new man bcgins with the fight
for the positions seized in the revolution: firstiy, "miracles of
courage and endurance" on the part of the armcd workcrs and
peasants in the Civil War, coupled with hcroism and marc hcroism
on the part of thc masses on the home front, and in its wake a
d eep shift in consciousness. In 1919 Lenin wrote in his immo~tal
work A Great Beginning: "It is the bcginning of a revolutIOn
that is more difficult, more tangible, morc radical and m~rc
decisive than the overthrow of the bourgeoisie, for it is a Vt 7
tory over our own conservat~sm, indiscipli~e, pettyzbourgeOls
egoism a victory over the habIts left as a hentage to the worker
a nd pdasant by accursed capitalism. "3 No~ until after ~he ovcrz
throw of the bourgeoisie "the masses, I.e., t~e t?llcr~ and
exploited as a body, can display, for the first time 10 history,
all the initiative and energy of tens of millions of people who
bave been crushed by capitalism" .'.
.
'
z
'
"
th
hold
on
power
meant
COptog
With
the
eco
M amta ln1l1g
e
.
d'
nomic dislocation and the famine, it meant restartll1~ p~o ~tt~n
and defeating thc enemy in battle ..I~ A C:reat BegulJIwg e~1n
pointed to what he described as a ytelOUS Circle: .~o esc~pe fa~,~~
onc had to raise the producti\ity ~f .labour. We n~w, ak~
t "that in practice such contradictions are so lved by ~re< h
w ro e, . <.
<
b . 0"' a b t a radical changc In t c
ing the VIC IOUS CIrcle, by nnoln o ? ~u...
f the individual
d
f the people by the hcrolc Inttlatlve 0
temper 0
' d ..
Ie aaainst the backgroun
grou ps which .often plays"a ~C1StVe r~ccis~l the kind of initik
of suc1~ a radIca l change. !?IS was the s~bbotniks. "in spite
tive dlsplaycd by the partlClpan.ts t~rmcnted and exhausted by
of the fact that they are w~ar) ,
. d the authority
.. ".- TI
bbotmk movement rmsc
malnutntlOn.a
\C su
f h
easants and that of Party
of the workcrs in the eyes 0 t e p < .
<

I Ibid., Vol. 26,

:! Ibid., Vol. 27,
3 Ibid., Vol. 29.
4 Ibid., Vol. 31,

p. 40}.
p. 167.
p. 411.
p. 188.
5 Ibid., Vol. 29. pp. 4z6-Z74 1978

49

n-members.' Long before wri tin g A Greal

no
membcnamong
.. I
" II , fib
'.v:
Lenin rooi(teu.1 shift In r lC PS) C10 og) 0 a Our,
P
. hcnte
. d t' rom ri, e P]st
.
- - th mentalit)
tn
.. , by' ,1",........"'v..;p Ion.
..,.,...".",
II I '
.
II

&,.",r.:",

eel: \ONaturally. for a certain time, ..l

atte nt io n , a ,h is
dlo"lghe.. all his spiritual strength, ,,,en.: .wnccl.l tr;.u c.d on t<lk lng
a breath, 00 unbending his ~ack, on str<llghtcnlllg Ills should,crs.
taking the blessings of lIfe that were there for the taking,
ll S

that had always been denied him by th~ no:v ovcr~h[own

aploitets, Of course, a ,.errain amount of time I S [cqUl.red to

:=ct

en.ble the ordinary worktng man not only to see for lll mself,
not only to become convinced, but also to feel tha t he cannot

.imply 'take'. snatch, grab things, that this l~ads to inc reased
disruption, to ruin, to the return of the Kocnilovs. The corresponding change in the conditions of life (and conseq uen tly in
the psycholOID') of the ordinary working man is onl y just the
begi n ning."2
In other words, the psychological change would he w rought
by heroic efforts to prevent the return of the former autocraticcapitalist order and by the understanding that the only way Out
of the economic difficulties is in a new attitude to work. "Labou r
dilci.pline. enthusiasm for work, readiness for self-sacrifice, close
alliance between the peasants and the workers," Lenin explained,
"thil is what will save the working people from the oppression of the landowners and capitalists for cver. " 3 In T be immedillle Tasks oj the Soviet Government, in which L eni n set
out m ~y fruitful ideas on the psychology of the masses, he
wrote; In a small~peasant country, which overthrew tsari sm only
a year ago, aod which liberated itself from the Kerenskys less
then lix IDOnths ago, there has naturally remained not a little of
:J:tgtaneoUi anarchy, intensified by the brutality and savagery
baa l?=Ompany every protracte~ and re~ctionary war, and there
th atlll"._ good deal of despair and aimless bitterness." H ence
ade gec~.lty for prolonged and persistent efforts by politically
ch::ncc: worker. and peasants "to bring about a com plete

=.::.. 1'0

cna.....
1< ID the IIIOOd of the people and to bring them on to the
~ of .. , ady and disciplined labour".' And he can-

Its b,\l1ks like a spring Hood- with iron discipline while at work,
with WUjllt:Jlioning obedience to the will of a single person, the
Soviet Icadc:.:r, while at work." I
More ideas concerning the change in the psychology of labour
arc found in the original version of The Immediate T(IJk.~' o/the
S()viet GOvl'rJlIlIcnl. First, Lenin writes about the psychologv
o( labour und er capitalist oppression: "This inevitably created
a psychology in which public opinion among the working people
not on ly did not frown on poor work or shirkers, but, on the
contrary, saw in this an inevitable and legitimate protest against
or means of resistance to the excessive demands of the exploiters. "2 He pointed out that dejection and consequent disorganisation were understandable and inevitable among a people
ravaged and exh.:.ustcd by the war. He remarked that to hope
for a rapid change of heart by means of a few government decrees "would be as absurd as resorting to appeals in an attempt
to restore good cheer and energy into a man who had be~n
beaten within an inch of his life". At the same time, the Soviet
government created by the working people and taking into
co nsideratidn the "growing signs of recovery among them", will
be able, as Lenin saw it, to change radically their psychology.:'!
The small-proprietor mentality, exemplified by the "grab as
much as you can" and " the devil take the hindm~st" ~ttitudes,
was very much alive, Lenin wrote; and he urged rousll1g these
people to history-making activity"" and remaking their morality
.
d ep raved by the spirit of private property.
Len in emphasised that "the masses must not only realise, but
a lso feel tha t the shortening of the period of hunger, cold and
poverty depends entirely upon how quickly the~ .fulfil our .economic pla ns".5 H e enlarged on the ne:d for co.m~iI1mg enthUSiasm
(both political and labour) with busll1ess. ~C1nc l ples and labour
disci pi inc based on persona l intercst. Ongmally, he wrote, we
expected to sta rt p roduction going 0 11 th: cres.t of popular
enthusiasm, bu t we u nderstood that personal lOcenttve to.o wou!d
hel p raise o utp ut. G E nthu siasm, perseverance ~nd herOism will
fo rever remain a monument; they played their great part and

must ie?m to combine the 'public meeting' democ:raq 0 the working people-turbulent, surging, overflow ing
iVLl p ' CoIl
2 Ibid. Vol' ~t:ktl Wo,,v, Vol. 50, p. 101.
a 1b:..I
a7, p. 270.
, IL.~.
29. p. 2, I.
_

I Ibid., p. 171.
:/ Ibid., VoL 42. p.
3 Ibid., pp. 83-84.
4 Ibid., Vol. 27, p.
5 Ibid., Vol. 31, p.
6 I bid., Vol. n, p.

!oI.
. .,.01. 17, p. 244.

50

,-

8).
168.

pl.
,8 .

51

labour

principles

IS Sound
but

lO'. and
business

underlying
shift in
moment
and
us their

.mong the people who have onIT juot ea a all

an
savage yoke,'. LeniIt otil UJed, ..... It
Cleep and widelpread sct:' bing aod a ... ent; the worldag Gbt '"

ever done

VICtOnous

ways. As

In

1919,

of
heroism
the world

new principles of I.bour discipline by the p' " .. Is fer, .,...

tracted process, and this prOCtTl could _ore com .. ,,'" .....
complete victory had been achieved ower the ~ aad the

bourgeoisie. lt3 Under socialism, howes el, ..

Krzh;zhsoovsky in 1920. even the c:otUJtrYs
"competition and initiative among the '"9'IE"'~'
Valuable. too, are I",io'l views oa die
aspec" of the Civil War and the Jight asajn" . . . . . . . . juI"
vention. He took ..- of the jIi)'~ .....ilL. or
IInreadinesl for war of the mnul. Ia Feb~ 1fI' ...... aU
that the mallei were not in a ....te to ...., .a. . . ptedL;aed
confidently that the I.hue of hardshipl would .... 'NCI_ eao.....
and the people would recover its Sheqth and find i .... capable
of resiltan.ce.5 However, he did aiJt":wait; for tills to bapsJcD; he
prepared it.
is how he ..p...... die ......... tid ......
P.kov pen.,,., just blck flOW the
tb ibe 8tmatit ~
of Soviet.. ''We m.1I briO&' them. to 1be ~ of So_
to reI.... ho... the GermanI''- pellple, to th1tther_ cllilDga
the mood '" the ........ iD paie,,""kbD 1Ii.... .-.'ba ...
begin to recover from his psoic and say, 'This is ced'~ aut
the war the ~ IIM"'''d! to J!"'I' _ ,:"d to, ~ . r,
new war thp ~4 i\~d'U'
~ Sovjct po.... , 'l'IItIa

_at

he

In
a

it('"

I 'J 'I;

.. JNd , pp. I., (IL

t

JJ.ld. Po &61.

1ilioio Po .".
1ilioio No " .... .
IIIIoLI VIII." .. ...

later he recorded the fa(t

the tum has (orne. Gone
A Dew dis(ipline has
the army and laying

psychological processes
difference between the
aad peasants. All over
-orguaiacd, he remarked
of the peasant is al;
" ... Hardl y anyand self-sacrificing
arc engaged in smallbeCause they live in remote
have been stunted by
a long time. Certain when the peculiar
forcefully in evidence ,
economic policy.
hope, the last ti me

"the mood of the

of war psycholbecame a disorderly
mob.... (V. I. Lenin,

Iy .... The reason for it was that in our economic offensive

we had run too far ahead .. that the masses sensed what we
ourselves were not then able to formulate consciously."l
Thus,. the trend in Lenin's post-October socia-psychological
observations is essentially different. His former concern was to
unite the revolutionary forces and crush the old regime. Heno.:,
everything was done to bring home to the masses the line
separating "we", the toilers, and "they", the exploiters, with
their state and church. After the revolution all efforts were
centred on inculcating and consolidating an altogether different
"we" concept.
Among other th ings, Lenin gave much thought to new
psychological traits in the relationship between the masses and
the state. "The state," he wrote, "wh ich for centuries has been
an organ fo r oppress ion and robbery of the people, has left us
a legacy of the people's supreme hatred and suspicion of everything that is connected with the state."2 This legacy affected
somewhat the issue of accounting and control. Yet the antagonism towards state leaders and organisations-the "they" group
as opposed to the "we" group, the masses-had to be gradually
overcome. That the masses at large considered not only the
achievements but also errors of the Soviet Government and the
Party as their own was for Lenin a fact of the greatest progressive significance. "They have tackled this formidable task with
their own hands and by their own efforts. And they have committed thousands of blunders from each of which they have
themselves suffered. But every blunder trained and steeled
them. "3
Both before and after the October Revolution, Lenin's
interest in the social psychology is entirely purposive: he sees
it as a symptom of the condition of the revolutionary forces and
as a vital requisite in defendi ng and advancing the cause of
the revolution. Prior to the revolution, but a few of the stable
customs and traditions interested the "science of revolution",
generally oriented on flghting the existing social usage. After
the revolution, the main purpose was to create and consolida~c
a new psychic make-up, a new character and new psychIC
standards. An enemy of stagnant customs before the rcvolution,
Lenin became a propone nt of new concepts turning into habits.
I Ibid., Vol. H, r .pl.
z IhiJ., Vol. 17. r. In
J Ibid .. Vol. 18. p. 1",0.

55

achic,":cd ~vhat h;1 S become

our &oclal lI fe, OUr habits."1
.the psychic changes
oo1y relative from :l Marxist~
ad that the significance of
historica l condition s.
IEVOLUTIOH

psychology as a revoluti onary

tasks of the revoluti on. Tha t Was
his attention on t he changeful
usually defined as
phenomena-" psychic
or a pro fe ss io nal, ethnic Or
sphere of vision. In social
phenomena are not poles apart,

of times in L enin's writis the sharpest dhjbourgeois. H ence the

oppositionaL":"! Leni n uses the
leading conccpt in his social
an investigati on of Leni n's
D. Parygin, p resented as a
was entitled "V. 1. Lenin on
Masses",3
thi s or that term .
"instinct" (class instinct,
close to that of "spon*
Then there were such
, "passion ", "cnthu*
, "apathy", etc. Herc
these terms!

nasI myen i pk h"

1 9~9,

B . D.

. 17 .
Pan' l"!i n '~

of Soci;)! P,)'chol.

"The working class is instinctively, spontaneously Social*

Democratic"l; "a pcriod of accumulation of [cvolutionary
energy":!; a wavc of "public fcrmcnt"J; "by thc rising of
hundrcds of thousands of workers who have not for~otten the
' peaceful' 9th of January, and who long for an armed
January 9"'''; "the workers themselvcs are spontaneously car~
rying on just such a struggle. Too passionately did they live
through the great struggle in October and Dccember";. And
the monarchical illusions nourishcd by the peasa ntry "often
paralysed its energy ... and gave rise to empty day~dreams
about 'God~given land' "6; "with the politically non~consci ous,
drowsy, vacillating masses any changes to the better arc impossible .... Unless the masscs arc interested, politically conscious,
wide awake, active, determ incd and independent, absolutely
nothi ng can be accomp lished in either sphere"J And more:
"The drowsy, philistine spirit which often in the past pervaded
some of thc Sw iss workers' associations is disappearing to give
way to the fighting mood. The workers held their ground as
one O1an"8; "what is common.. . is a mass dissatisfac~
t ion ovcrflowing alt bounds, a mass resentmcnt with the bourgeoisie and tbeir govcrnmcnt"!); "owing to the resumption of
the prcdatory war, the bitterness of the people naturally grew
eycn more rapidly and intenscly" IO; "you cannot lead the people
into :l predatory war in accordancc with secret treaties and
cxpect them to be enthus iastic. And it is imposs ible to arouse
popular heroism witho~t breakin~ w it~ i mperialism"~ I ; f:~J~e
people ca nnot and wil l not walt pat1e~t1y. and passively ~ ;
" the re arc signs of growing apathy and tndlfference: That IS
und erstandable. It impli es not the cbb of the revolutIOn, as the
Cad ets and thei r hench men vocifcrate, but the ebb of co nfi dence
in resolutio ns and elections. In a revolution, the masscs demand

v. r.

Lenin, Collected \\"forks. Vol. 10, p. 32

2 Ibid., p. I j I.
J Ibid., Vol. I, p. 4J.
, Ibid .. Vol. 9, p. :8\.
5 Ibid., Vol. 1\, p. jj.
6 Ibid., Vol. 17, p. 12\.
7 Ibid., Vol. 18, p. 118.
8 Ibid . p. 160.
9 Ibid . Vol. :\, p. 1"70
trI Ibid., p. :p.
11 Ibid., p.
I

,6,.

I'- Ib"d
1 .,p.7 1.

57

action. not words from the leading, ~:lrtics. thc.~ ~km;~nd

victories in the struggle, not talk"l; 'di sco ntent, IOdlgnattOn
and _lath are growing in the army, among the pC;lsflntry and
among the workers"2,
.'
.
Solving the national and agranan Issue, Lenin wrote, would
cause "s real outburst of revolutionary enthusiasm among the
peoplc"3, and. last but not least, he observed: "1 know there
is a change of spirit among the peasants of the SawtD\,. Samam, and Simbirsk gubernias , where fatigue was most marked and
6tneu for military action was lowest of all."ti
This choice of passages rcveals Lenin's socio-psychological
perspicacity. No portrait of Lenin the publicist, the revolutionary. could be complete without it. We sec that his con cern is
mOldy about the psychic movement in the classes and ma sses,
and about the psychology dynamics. Less frequent and less deep
is his interest in the more stable psychic traits of the working
dass and the various social groups and professions. Hi s observations on this score are less complete than on socia-psychic
movements and changes. Yet they arc often invaluable, because
the stable psychological forms he points to are those the revolutionary movement must destroy, though, to be sure , sometimes
it. may even use them for support. As we have seen, Lenin 's
aim aftICC the socialist revolution was for it to enter the flesh
and blood of the masses and to be embodied in firm psychological habits.
So far we centred out attention on Lenin' s appraisal of the
psychology of the masses . Yet his observations of bourgeoi s
~ycbology are equally invaluable to historians. For one thing,
like Marx, he noted the vacillation of the petty bourgeoi sie
between . ultra-revolutionism and reaction, pointing to the
prJ"l-h":"'l' .~' specifi
_ cs 0 f t he bIg and petty bourgeoisie. "The
bourseo~1 arc busmessmen, people who make big commercial
~.act.ODS and are accustomed to getting down even to
polibcel matteR in a strictly business- like manner" he wrote
Ite the bull by the horns rather than puttil~g their trus~
~n word~."5 And his observations of 1901 fit many other hi storICal penoell: ''The bourgeoisie' s recognition of thc revolution

:"Tbey ...

V. J. Lenin, Coll~c/~d Works ' Vol .

Ibid
p. '9
"a Ibid ,, p.
91.
4 Jhid .. Vol. II, p. H.
, Ibid. Vol.
p. 196.

1(,

z"

58

,p.

.8,.

cannot ~c ~incerc, irrespcctive of thc personal intcgrity of one

bo.urgcOls u.lcologi .. t or another. Thc bourgeoisie cannot but
bring sclfi .. hness and inconsistency, thc spirit of chaffering and
petty rcactirmary dodges cven into this highcr stage of the
movement".1
Unma<;king bourgeois liberalism, he rcveals thc psychological
factors underlying it. Making concessions to thc nobility in
politics, the bourgeoisie was also inclined to absolvc its sins
psychologically, while viewing its own middlc-of-thcroad stand
as a special rcfincmcnt of the liberal spirit. Lenin wrotc: "This
libcral logic is psychologically incvitable; our nobility must bc
depicted as ncgligible in ordcr that its privilcges may scem
on ly a negligible departure from democracy. With thc bourgeoisic occupying a position between thc hammer and the anvil,
idealistic phrascs, too, are psychologically inevitablc, phrases
which our liberals in general and thcir pet philosophers in
particular arc now mouthing in such bad taste.":!
If, as Lcnin saw it, the bourgeois fight for liberation was
inconsistent and half-hearted, the two currents surfaced thcrcfrom among the pre-revolutionary Russian intelligentsia, though
it was for the most part of bourgeois origin: on the onc hand
"the rcvolutionary intclligentsia, which comes mainlr from
thcsc classes, has fought heroically for freedom"3, while on the
othcr it was a timc-scn'cr at the beck and call of the autocracy

and bourgeoisic. "There )'OU have the psycho!ogy of the ~ussian intellcctual," writes Lcnin. " In words he IS a bold radical,
in deeds hc is a contemptiblc little government official".~ Timc
a nd again, however, Len in d rew attent.io~ to ~he n~turat and
inev itable co nflicts betwccn the bourgeOIs lOtelhgentsla and thc
bourgco isie. Take the foll owing passage: "The refusal of thc
intellectuals to be treated as ordinary hired men, as sellers of
labollC power, has led from time to time to conflicts bctween
the bigwigs of the Zemstvo .B0ard.s and the d~c~ors who,,~vould
resign in a body, or to conflicts w.. th the techlll~lans. ctc.
Many of Lenin's psychological obsef\"attOns relate to
employecs (fun ctionaries), the military, and the clcrgy.

1 Ihid.,
:l Ibid ..
:1 Ihid.,
~ Ih id ..
~ Ibid ..

Vul. 'I. p. u(,.

V..1. S, p .P9
p. ~II.
Vol. I I, p. 461
Vol. ,. p. 18,.

59

~_
Nobody is to be blamed for bein g born a !,I;\\,c;
.b.~~ who DOt only eschews a strivin~ fO f. frl't:uom but
jaIti6cs and eulogises his slavery (e,g., calls th rottling 01 Poland
aad the Ukraine, etc., a 'defence of the fatherland ' of the Great

.:.;;-

.,esjaol)-Such

a slave is a lickspittle and a hoor, who

;UOUSI.:S

a Ic&irimaw feeling of ~dignation~ ~ont.cmpt and loathi.ns':" ,

Leaia. considaed nptlonaJ asslmllatlon undcr capItalism s
iDluePEC as great historical progress.l He hailed national libcrmovements so 10118 as they were directed against the
dmnjoation of onc nation by another. Yet he did not divorce

_00

the n.tional movement from the classes participating in it.

''The typical features of the first period," he wrote, "arc: the
awakening of national movements and the drawing of the
pusents, the most numerous and the most sluggish section of the
population, into these movements. in connection with the strug&Ie for political liberty in gCSleral. aod for the eights of the
narioo in particular."3 He objected to opposing nations to one
anotl--:r, seeing it as poison for "the minds of the ignorant and
downtrodden mas~".'
I.enio's interest in the psychological aspects of na tional
Imc:ratioD ~ovements centred. among other things, on in jured
national pride, reseotmCSlt of the oppressor nation, a nd the
seose of suspicion against the oppressor.s
But ~ i.s littl~ ~ ~ng.in his ,":orks concerning "ethnic
PlJchology t 1.e., dlStlDct1ve nanonal tralts or the psychic makeup of dine or those peoples or nations ; just a casual remark
bcr~ and there about the Russian people's readiness for seIflacrifice or the Ger~ns' prefee~ce foe theoretical thinking. As
a rule, ~ev~, poma of that kind did not engage Lenin . He
took gwdance 10 the postulate that "in any really serious a nd
Ii'
'
profound
DOt
aca I ISsue
lit'de s are taken according to classes,

oatioor.&
For

10 lum
I.enin
was interested pnnClpa
' , 11y 1n
" soc10-psychologlcal
'
den
FZ
him'
181 psycholo~ was no eternal and prima ry
'a n il" ~ social.

'r
p enomena.

Soaal psychology can and must

! V,.Drid.,L Leala,
CoIkete4 Worles, Vol. 11, p. 10" .
Vol. 10, p. 17.

I Ibid., p. -401

p. an.
i Sec V. L Lenin, On 11M Qusd
I AllIfJnomous Government (in
R.lJfd'n), GoapnIitizd.t, 1,,6
. d on 0
1..,,', . Pdirioa Vol.,
"p.
V. I. Lenm, Collectcd W o, kJ, Fifth

~"
BnU.,

, p . 11 .

1" .

V. L L 'in, CoUI1'tIM "orls, Vol. 10 , p . ,6.

l-hilnge. We should not idealise or tn:ilt as a t;hangekss law

~1.le Sp{)Ilt;~ne{JUi phCI1flmCna, instincts and pa~si()ns of the ma1ses.
I he tS.H S a~ent5pmVOC;\teurs, we may rc(all. worked hard
"10 filn hase pauions am{Jfl~ the ignorant masses'I. What
inu:rt:sted I.enin was jmt that clement in n);l\S psyt;holo1-: v
whl(h worked for, flf W;,\i tran,formcd hy. the n,;\'olution. "The
;ldmi!'er~ of Lavmv and Mikhailovsky," he observed, "arc
obliged to reckon with the psy(hoiogy of the downtrodden
masscs and not with the objective conditions which arc transforming the psychology of the militant masses.":!
Herc is how Lenin described the socio-psychological dynamics
in his article, "Before the Storm", in 1906: "More and more
workcrs, peasants and soldiers, who only yesterday were indifferent, oc even sided with the Black Hundreds, arc now passing
over to the side of thc revolution. One by one, the illusions and
prejud ices which made the Russian people confiding, patient,
simplczmindcd, obedient, all-enduring and allforgiving, arc
being destroyed."3 In the same year he amplified: "The
workers' party places all its hopes on the masses; on the masses
who arc not frightened, not passively submissive and who do
not humbly bear the yoke, but who arc politically conscious,
demanding and militant."li
These examples help us understand Lenin: he was neither
a blind worshipper of moods nor a blind admirer of the masses
in general. Of the Communist Party he said: "But we arc. a
party leading the masses to socialism, and .not .at all on~ :vhLch
follows every change in mood or depreSSIOn m the SPLCIts of
the masses. All Social-Democratic parties have had to cope
ith
at times with the apathy of the masses, or their. infatuation
some crror some fashion (chauvinism, anti-SemLtism, anarchLsm,
Boulangisn;, etc.), but never do ~onsistently revolutionary ,~~cial.
D emocrats yield to every changmg mood of the maSses.
.
Lenin prompted revolutionaries to usc mass psychology m
razing to the ground former social relations and the old "\~ay
of lifc. But he also prom.pted them to crase from the mass mmd
all that hamperea the rapid course of history. Th~ peasants as
n class, he pointed out, have a psychology of their own: they

:v

I Ibid., Vol. 10, p. 7}

:1 Ibid., Vo!. II. p. !O~.
:.I lbid"p. I l l .
, Ibid., p. 4110.
5 Ibid., Vo!. 1\, p. 191

63

: .at ~ den aD.~ proprietorsi they are sober-mintkd, astute

tlwirJlftcaw ~ple. One should learn to win ovcr, to rcmould
PI,.'. tbiLeaCl. like
of 2any mass. "And not (() d",
to ~I\'
t'
ad that
'shed
.. ...

Giza/Jter II

1ft
mODI

.....
~ P~cn'p!::;:i,uS psychologist, Lenin knew mally spc..'cit1(
.._ of _.I'
PlYchology, and accentuated the I/J(HS co

lilt;

-e.......

RUttlOUS actiOD.3

WE AND THEY

11-

,H'OO".","of'' ' ;'c, though Lenin's science of revolution help

Ia::ncc
fOCie' l'W
nt:ycholnaov
to take stock
ftnII 'bili
-ar
of'Its vital taskss athe
d
r-II ties, ~ thould not commit th
f
n

mem.nicaUy his o b s '

e error 0 applying
~~ was Dot a pro;:~::~s p:ch~~~:~st h~~[aitcal condidtions.
UImCIUI W8I mere1
to h
hi'
.
we en eav-

derive from psYCb~logy.s ow

The foUowing chapters

concepts of that b
h
locial psychology.

raRC

storlaDS the benefits they could

7psychology as a

'U dea , with

' the clements and basic

! v. L renin,
Collected 1V Tits
.ur.
0 Vol. 19. p. "7

J lNd. P.

Ibid., Vol. 16. p. 77.

1. IS COLLECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY CONCEIVABLE!

science known as

Whethcr a "collective psychology" (e.g., ethnic, social or mob

psychology, etc.) is at all logically conceivable has long been
an object of controversy.
A wealth of factual material, particularly on ethnic psycholo~
gy, needs deep study. Any two peoples, neighbours or not,
diffcr distinctly in traits of character or emotional make~up. The
distinctive features in the mould of people of twO different
trades or professions prompt us to say: "WeU, aU blacksmiths
arc alike" or "all artists are alike" or "that is typical of mathe~
maticians". The natural wish is to apply comparative psychology
or look for the underlying objective scientific pattern .
However, for dccades opponents of social psychology argue
that psychology is concerned with the mental and spiritual
proccsses in individuals and personalities, and that concepts of
a collective spirit are mystic and therefore unscientific. This
view obtruded still more insistently when new information was
obtained on the structure and functioning of the beain, i.e., after
the discovery and investigation of the physiological substratum
of subjective psychic processes, proving that no collective brain
existed outside the individual skull. Consequently, the concept
of a co ll ective group or social psychology conteadictcd material~
ist psychology, based on the physiology of the higher nervOUS
activ ity, benefitting idealist psychology which sometimes ignored
the brain. Since the brain was individual, psychology could be
nothing but individual.
This antinomy dates far back to 1859, when Lazarus and
Stcinthal, thc editors of Zeitscbrijt liir VOlkerps)"cbologie UJui
SpracbwiHemcbajt (Thc Journal of Ethnic Psychology and
Linguistics) announced in the first issue the birth of a science
5'1978

Marx reproduced Fcucrbach's idc:l in Capitd! Il\' jLlk ingl\"

comparing man to a commodity: " Sin" he comes II\to t h~.wo.rld
neither with a looking glass in his hand. nor ;~~ i\ h lhtl.lll
philosopher to whom 'I am I' is surticicnt, nino ~1rSt SC~S a nd
recognises himself in other men ..Peter. only cS~:1.hil ~hl,.'s Ill s Cl~\"n
identity as a man by lint comparmg 11I015('lf with I nul as hc.:lng

of like kind."l
Marxism advanced far beyond Fcucrbach's surmis(! of "I and

you". Why just a dyad? The transition ~rom t~c "singular" ~o a

dyad ushered in many new concepts In which the rclat lons
between men were more primary and important than man , the
product of these rclations. It followed that a dyad, too , was
an abstraction. The next necessary step was the Marxist teaching
on society. Robinson and Friday and Pau l and Peter :lre Ilot a
society. Similarly, in a developed system of commodity production, each commodity is compared not to another commodi ty,
be it even gold, but through gold with all the commoditi es on
the market at any given moment. Paul lcarns his own natu re
through Peter only because the latter has society behind him , a
multitude of people forming a whole by virtue of a compl ex
system of relations. Marx and Engels reduced these rclations to
basic and derivative, ccntering their attention on economic
relations, the basis of the social structure. Metaphorically, the
double star was supplanted by a vast sky of stars. "I and you"
no longer seemed the elementary human cell, because a multitude
.. " you .. and"h
o f " WC,
t ey .. groups appeared on t he scene.
Thoug~ social ~cience as a whole has been treading thi s path
a long ame, SOCial psychology has yet to catch up with the
other oE its departments studying the social man and hum an
society. Opponents oE social psychology tripped over the concept ~E ':dradic" psy:hic experience as if th is actually led from
the mdlvldual bram to some mysterious " inter-personal"
psychology. However, they could cross the Rubicon no n'ore
~an ~urgco!s economists could part with Robinson and Fri ciay,
~1Cturln~ SOCiety as ~ host of elementary relationships: d yad s,
I.e., Roblnsons and Fridays.
The met~od of. ~ial psychology cannot bc borrowed whol e
r";'ln Marxist ~11tlcal economy or somc other branch of social
SC1C~CC. It .~as J~"own specifics. but the vector is a common
ODC. from dyadiC psychIC experienccs to social ones.

rC!

k"ve .l',idl! the phvl<.iologic.l! a~ro.;(t rOl tlu momc,lt

II.HlH:ly, hpecdl, that inherent mc(hanism of the IlIghe: :lenou
;lnivity whkh fu'icS the min~h of milli(ln~ of peoplc ll~ clfcdlvelv
a~ the (erchml hemi'pheres arc fu~ed in the cranium,lnd dwell
nn the sredlinlliv ps)"clll)lo~i(al ",pect.
To sce whether or not !if)(ia! p~yt.:hology is in rrindrlc Li,n
(eivable, we ,,1I/lUld substitute "wc", "you" and "they" :l~ has!c
(oncepts fllr "I", "tlHHI" and "hc".
The grammar of all languages evidences the r\~cho!f)~i(;ll
fact that words an: conjugated and, at least in somc langu;\~e~,
declined not in two but in three persons (we, you, they AU"
Moreover, there arc languav,es (e.g., the semitic lanv,uagcs) in
which nouns arc declined in perslJns: our, your, their object (or
action). All existing: and conceivable per~on~ and rclatiomhip',
nre classed, first and foremost, in these threc catel!:ories. What
is more, some primitive peoples ha\'e the plural only, and no
si ngular. Engels summed this up in lucid terms: "The tribe
remaincd the boundary ror man, in relation to himself as well
M to outs iders .... Impres~ive as the people of thi~ epoch m;nappeilr to us, they differ in no way one from another, the~ are
sti ll bound, as Marx said, to the umbilical cord of the primordial community." 1
So, let us pick the oldest relationship in the plural. Tn follow
Feuerbach, thc initial form should be "we and you". Howe\er.
a d oser analysis yields an uncxpected result: "you" (and
" thou") is a deriyati\'e category fitting a later stage than "we"
and "they".
.
. "
Social psychology docs not become a SCIence u.n~tl. we an."
they" (or " thcy and WC .. ) arc taken as the Imtl~ll psych.lc
phenomcnon in place of "I and you", and the rebtH)~s~,P
betwee n twO persons is replaced by that of two cnm~unttlcs.
The second person "you" (or "thou") develops ncccssanly from
this init ial relationship and, in turn, takcs it [1 ster farther. It
stems fr om contact betwecn "we" and "tltey" ;lnd is a product
of the dial ecti cs of their relationship.
But how d ocs com mu nin penetrate the indiYidual\ .wn~cious ness? Take two prim iti,c ~roup~-f.~ n~i l ics Of. tribes. H.,th~
two g:roups nc\' er met, none of the mdl\ldu;lls In I!:roup A
Il'i

1 K, M,u" ,111.1 I'

En"cls, .~"'l'Cl<'d \\' rle.<. \\,1, II. :-.{,,' ,,",'

p . 1\1.

70

71

,,'S!.

would ever become conscious of bdongin~ ttl a clHn~llunit ,. A ..

they did not differ from each other in the cnnllllullIt.', so they
would not distinguish their like from nn)', ()tI~l'U ,,, I h.;~t W,h
merely an objective community, Befor~ a s~blc~ttvc wc ({)\lld
appear. they had to encounter and dlssrn;latc th,~I11 Sd.~'cs fm,lll
IO'"C ..they", Subjectively and psychologically.
thc\' I ~ stdl
mote primary than "we", Therefore. the appearan cc of the
concept "they" in the human mind should be rq:.ud cd ;lS the
initial act of social psychology,
The history of primeval society and th'lt of other ept)(hs
indicates that the "we" concept may at times be weakly
expressed or even non-existent. while that of "they" is alway:)
clearly expressed. "They" is not "not we"; more appropriately,
"we" is "not they", The sense of "they" produces the desire
for self-determination. for dissociating from "they" as "we" ,
At nrst "they" is far more specmc and rcal, and associated
with concrete notions: misery from "their" invasion s, "their"
inability to understand "human" speech, etc. The "they" concept
oceds DO pcno0i6.cation by the image of a chief. a group of
dden or oqanisation. "They" may be conceived as multiform
and not at all as a community in the specific sense.
The psychics of a child shows how genetically old this
experieace is. Children have the ability to distingu ish all
"'trangcu", though. naturally. the differentiation is fortuitous,
lince they do not distinguish between dangerous and harmless
'bangas, etc. Instantly, a very strong psychic mechani sm
responcb to any attempted contact by a "stranger", trigge ring
complex of specific reactions. including tears and howls, or,
we could say, "appeals" to "one's own".
''We'' is more complex and. in a sense. more abstract, The
community that existed in primeval times the connection between indivi~uals, was perceived by all th~ough personification
or throup ntes and customs underscoring the fact that they
belonged to the community as distinct from "they".
We may note as a point of interest that in primitive society
:'we" always stood for "people" in the direct sense i,e. people
10 geo~, whereas "they" stood for "not Quite pe~ple,". What
:!'aay ~,bes. and peoples called themselves is tran slated as
people . This shows that psychologically "we" is not a simple
C8teg?t>:, not the mere awareness of real bonds. of an everyday
l
8t!?D of a Dumber of individua!s. That may appear to
the ase at first glance. In fact, thiS awareness is achieved

:SOC

72

thruugh the antithesIS; "we" ...re those who arc not "they ;
th{:~c who MC not thry' are Lcnuinc men
10 he lure, the matt looked as th:tt onlv at the d,lwn nt
history far rernove I fn m our v- . n. What 'we see i" mainly
the product of IlI',torv -the varit u we" and man', awareness
o.f hclonging to lom~ community. The farther from primeval
tun!.!s the mor!.! 'they" and "we" changcl role~: m,'HI hcc.'\IlIe
psydll)lr)~d(.llly aware of the various communities by distin"ui-lling hil1l~elf /lot from ;lny ClmcrctC "they" but from all"th051.:
who werc not "we"
It i ~ probably preferable to assume as the original wrnmunit)
one thac is the ca~iest to a~sume: a gruup of people rcl:ttcd to
each other, that i~, people of common origin, known to each
other, associated in life and common hunting. However, and
this is often the case, the easiest to conceive i'J,. not a\wavs
objectively true. If we were to assume that the simplest human
community is bonded by a blood relationship, that it is not a
relationship existent in people's minds, how to explain in the
case of tribes and peoples in the earliest ~tage of development
that a blood relationship is often a figment of the imagination,
an imagined relationship to justify the association of people in
a t ribe. They may claim to be the descendants of some animal,
an animal of a particular species. or the desccndants of an
imaginary forebear, or they ffi.1Y adopt a person of another tribc
after certain rites, after which he or she is said to become a
personification of some deceased kinsman, The concept of blood
relationship, evcn at the lowest totemism stage is not as natural
as it may seem. \Ve have no cause to consider that community
primary. The idea of a "primitive labour coHectivc" only sce~s
exoteric. Yet who was admitted to it and \vho was not? Agam
a vicious cirdc until we postulate "ther" as the psychologically
primary category.
.
And going still fruther b,lCk we ~ay e\-en, assume. tha~ t.l-us
initial, this, we might say. ps)'chologtc<llly primary dlSsoclatl,On
from some "ther", reflects the coexistence of men on earth WIth
their biologica l predecessors, the paleolithic ~an (the Neanderthal man). They could well hm-c been conSIdered dangcrous
and unacceptable' (lutc,\sts, "non-human" or ".se,n~i-hunun',
Thi s hypothe" is endeavours to show that the Initial .hU,~'lO
psychologic\ l relationship is not self-awareness of ,l p~lmltlY('
tribal community but the attitude of people tow;lrds their clos~
animal-like .lDccstors, prompting them to reg;l(d themselvcs as
73

IDCDben of their community. Not until pil!cnbecame exti... did thil fMychologica1 model spread
betw~m groups. communities and trbi'?c\s, ~nd\
dae other uniformities within the 10 t)~lca

humans.

with the Neandcrthai erits role substantially in the course of human

of mutual extermination were followed by
CIOI'Ivag<"celI bordering on symbiosis (p~bably in, the
IIIld eoeolithic periods) were followed agam by pC(lod:.:
fII ..,..cion.! POIsibly, these changes .correspon~cd ~o modi6...... III tile cultural history of mankmd. But mvartably, and
~ the more sutely. the palaeanthropae became extinct and

. . """ of ....
_

fa""",

declined, finally reaching nil. But then

.... met' this hypothesis merely

..... 1Ibe 'F7tre of gravity

.
"We" t.:ame a

.. '0

as the initial push, to show

shifted mote and more from "they"

.~H

univena1 plychological form of the selfof aU human identity. Yet "we" always presupposes
It... an either definite or inde6nitc "they".
~ prlld before it DcclIUed to man that "we" may
~ wilb aU maDkind and. therefore. not oppose any

....,...

J.

It

dIDwa that social psychology may employ

"cotlective" or "group", without
abstraction of
psychology is
central commu-

10110'-;,. 1)0,,01tl 0

relikJovykb

the Quesdon of RelIc Hominids},

74

b'>tinr; (i.c .. Iuscu fm a t;table economic and histnril."al foumhtion) or ~hort-lived. with many. transitional ~ta"es
between
0
them. Communities may covcr territories rangin~ from ~m;lll
to largc, or they may alsl} be extraterritorial. They may be
densc or dispersed, thtir members scattered among Other people.
The ~pectrum of relations between communities extcnf.h hom
antagonistic and overtly hostile to friendly competitive as a
form of mutual assistance.
The separate individual mar belong to communities of
dilfcrent types and orders at one time. He may, for example,
be a citizen of the U.S.S.R., belong to a nation, be a member
of the working class, member of the Party and a trade union,
a member of a family, club, circle or society, participate in an
international movement, belong to a circle of friends, be one
of the crowd at the stadium, participate in a demonstration, be
a spectator in a hall or auditorium, participate in an excursion
Or a walking tour, etc. However, he cannot be\on~ at the same
time to antagonistic classes, antagonistic social systems, etc.
This cursory enumeration shows that human communities arc
innumerable and multiform, including unstable and short-li\'ed
ones, which baffles bourgeois psychological sociology and social
psychology. To bourgeois sociologists all communities seem ali~e.
Modern "sociometry"l ranks first the most ephemeral assocIations: groups of two Or th.ree persons bound ~\' ~u~ual s):m
pathy, intercourse or attractlOn. On the fac,e ?f It, mlcr~soclOl
ogy" offers promising ground for the statistical proces.slOg of
mass questionnaires and for drawing reasoned conc.lusl.ons, In
fact, however, little or nothing is at hand for generahsatlon and
the yield is poor.
.
"
Thc socia l psychology of "smaller groups" ~r "ml~rogroliPs
is not socia l psychology in the full sense, for It c.oos.1d,ers community as but an outgrow th of thc p,s),chol?gy of l~dlv,lduals. It
holds that every person for reasons mcxphcable sClc~ttfically or
springing from the ind iv idual's conscious or unconscIOUS dc\'cl
opment, is well disposed towards some people an,d sh.uns atl,lers.,
At the 18th International Congrcss of PS~'chologlS~S 1I~ i\lO SC ?\\
in 19 66 1. Morcno said hc had succeeded the,rcby 10 dlsco~enn~
the rcality of "socicty". H e as m~ch as admlt~~d .!ba~..soc~olog;
had become a science, whereas 10 the past souct)
\\ as .

1 Sec

of Socit'l)'.

J.

L, "Iun:nu. SI}(i,J11l<'/T),.
New York, 1911.

75

aaI; teaIIy exhtiog entity was a certa in

}fow it .... been discovered at last that
with some people while steering
appcaR, is the substratum of society!
this new science surfaces in the study of
miMI' racmblanca. Special methods arc
the extent to which the composition of these
may not coincide with the purely psych ic
accomiD8 to individual dispositions. MicroseniCCl to employees for forming crews of
the armed forces for forming companies, to tra iners
fat IEJ.,d;ng teams, etc. Literature expounding
is Cluohe1y prolific, Yet its theoretical groundwork
What, .indeed, is the theoretical background to the
of the individual vis-A-vi. the people of hi s
No mpUn how complex each case may be, ,the
..... '" tIaiI ac-.tioo is comparison with a model. In a numbcr
........ a. may appear more familiar than others: he or she
... ., _ Nitti. ltined a lease of something familiar. Thc
. . . . of .....hkl or comp-n;on may also be due to the
.....,. of lIXMii""'1l &elise of values, a preference for specific
..........
etc. There are more complex appreciations,
or peculiarity (including that in ap.-... 'lives ntUe to an iDtenl c desire of converting the
, . . . __ '1ae (or "she") into ..thou", i.e., enfolding it in
_ .. _ ""cc", &om which he or she is so evidently different.
- . . . . . . - ' .......pring up frequendy by this second alterof "we" and "they", Hence, personal
Me DO irrational cornerstone for social psychology;
""" do Dot traee back to inaccessible depths
We ......,. usociate some of the people around
vi oun". others with something " strange" _.
tbae categories are primary for social
cannot regard purely
any socio economic basis as

ill uaotcd in the idealistic approach .

MilIIer this multiformity of commu.... purely psychological. It should
wrUlpond.iq: to the objective and
cIeoeIopmcat, the claas struggle and

..

~ocio-political life arc the only stable, durable and hi~toricallr

Important communities,
Then ,~he purely psychological or mainly psychological
commUnities and collectives emerging and disappearing continuously are, historically speaking, a reconnoitring mcdlanism
of spolltancous dcvelopment, There is nothing in historic:'!1
materialism to imply that psychological phenomena necessarily
trail behind economic or social changes, which thcy ultimately
reflect. The emcrgence of new transient socia-psychological formations no morc contrad icts materialism than active-approach
or "tria1 and error" behaviour, etc., contradicts the physiology
of the higher nervous activity. Contemporary physiology is
farthest fcom the thought that the body of an animal performs
nothing but actions cncouraged from without, prompted by an
obviou)) biologica l necessity. The body conducts endtes)) reconnaissance, a ceaseless scarch (a \'er)" wasteful one), for without
it its reactions would not adjust themselves to changes in the
environment and changes in the body, This reconnoitring and
anticipating apparatus docs not conflict with the determinist
principle. On the contrary, it helps lift the veil on how only
those of the many movements made by the animal are consolidated and selectively converted into conditioned reflexes that
correspond to the strictcst causal regularity..
'
Naturally, no dircct analogy exists here Wlt~ the r:la~lOn
bctween the continuously appearing unstable psychIC aSSOCIatIOnS
and the human communitics necessitated or predetcrmined by
the laws of socio-cconomic development. What the above was
meant to show is how to disprove bourgeois sociology. The
fac; ual matcrial it happens to gather concerning min~r S~O(t
lived associatio ns unsu ppo rted either economicatly or hlStoncalIy, shou ld not bc brushed aside. On.e ~holi id merely st,lnd the
matter back on its feet: these assoCiatIOns should, not be considercd a basis and prototype of human com,munlty or of co llect ivcs, but as a form without content contlfiuously cxtended
as fcele rs by way of reconnaissance; no~ u~less <lv,ourable conditions arise do they fill out with an objective pubhc con~en.t.
It is this form that we e.xpress by t he "we and, they" p(l.nople.
T his unive rsa l principle underlying the psychIC formatlo.n of
commu nities must ma nifest itself with more o~ le~s for(.c t~
the formotion of e\'cn the hlstorlcall} ffil.ht
k POSS blc
ma'c
I
'"
, 'I
d"
strongly predetermined an~ most .profoundly ob,ectlve y con 1t ioned communities, coHectl\'es, untons, or groups.

'7


categones,

\\'I~cfl {.'laht,Luing '1I..i.11 p hholoc:y. Ilowc\'cr, they Me not it;

uhjc<I, bU!, only "Ill' "t the \:ieOl ihc pr(;mi~I.:~.

macrohowever.

Au emir 'Iv dlilenitt

.111110,1
\(lCIlt'l'.

the world-wide
tho equality of
IUch

world

As
and
school and
JIUlCrOIlOup.,l though
bei", meteiy to eluci

lltel8ture, howombraA:es puceiy

....ed OD .ym.

of mmmunity, the
abundant, widely
Finally, we IhouJd )
0Ide< in the _
that
tIaoughts,
to

(,

Patte...s

the

or microgroupa. they
IUch as

in mind

lJ.

tilthl.:r unUllpoctant hi~torical phcnlJmcnon of

fa~III"n.~. Wcstnn p,>ychulogi\ls arc attraucd to this pflJblcm
pn.manly hecause: of iu utilitarian lommercial interest. rot us
It I~ a vcry &-uitablc cX;lmplc. one that fit!. (Jur purpfHe pcrfc~t1y.
~)C()ph.: who follow the fa,hiom may not belong to any sl)cio\!)g!Cal community. But neither elf) they comprise a purdy Statistical
cornmunity, for they accept fashifJos nut independently of each
other duc to some.: ide.:ntical motive but bv imitation or direct
contact with each other. They may be said to infect each oth.:r.
Fashion is essentially mutual imitation. However what hc!on~~
to the sphere of m()od~, i.e., to SIJciaJ psycholo~y, arl~ not the
fashionable things or actions as such, but the 'bshionnblcness'.
For the psrcholo~ist it i~ not the positi\e aspect that is important, but the negati\c. Pcople arc less attracted by the huutv
or utility of new thing~, but rather by the distincth'cness from
"unfashionable" pcople; the frequent change of thin~ fashi,m
able distinguishes one from people who are slower in keeping
up with the fashions. Hence, the bearers of fashion form a
kind of sociopsychological community, a hi!:;hly amorphou~ anJ
unstable one. It is a breeze among the more powerful and
deeper currents of social emotion.
On the whole, howe\er, as outlined in the preceding chapter,
sociopsychic phenomena gra\itare towards one of thc tv.o
charactcristic forms: thc psychic makeup and the p~~chic shift
(in othcr words, the mood). Both are communities:
P sychic makeup is subject to tendencies of rclati\'c stability,
to tradition , class features or features of a stratum, profession,
. people, nation or any other group. Stable traits of the psrchk
makeup are moulded by customs, habits, or the way of life
jnherited from older genemtions and the emironment. Often
ther arc adopted uncriticall~. passiycly, but at times the critical
approach is throttled by either an imposed systcm of ideas or
d~req comp:~lsion. This psychic category is multiform: the stablc.:
psychic traits of a class, e.g., the proletariat or the bourgeoi~ic.
are formed in different ways than those of an ethnic commu
nity-a tribe or people. Elusiye features such as charactcr (itself
composed of many elements and tmits) and the hisroricall:oT:lkc

Move-

111I1,,<lIK'-,

of (Ilmmunit;. grullP$ hmJcd h,

to the depth .,1 ',,-i.1! p,\chol"g: ;l~ .1
cl.J\,

79

more changeable but nonetheless "utin); nllnpl~xl'S of h;\bit~,

customs, traditions, tastes, prejudices. pl'culi.lf n.:l;ltion s hip~ and
features deriving from lan~uagc singulMirics, illl (Ome under
the head of psychic make-up.
The relati,'c stability of these sO\: iu - ps~dli~ l"P1IlIlHlllili ..:s i~
traceable to the fact that thc\' coales(c with wh;lt is (.llkd ( ulture, or more spcci6cally. spiritual culture. The ps),(hic make-uJl
of a community-part and parcel of its culture- expresses iw.'H
through culture, depends on culture and, as we han:: sa id ,
mani.fests itself in and is governed by the bnguagc.
Moods, on the other hand, arc relatively mobile and dynamic ,
but there is no break between the two forms. Psychic make-up
is incessantly evolving and changing, now slowly 3nd now more
slowly still; and as for psychic shifts, in one way or another
they, too, draw on the traditions of a community. The separation or opposition of these two forms is not absolute but of
an auxiliary nature. In some cases it is altogether irrelevant, as
when we speak about the revolutionary traditions of a class or
a people: "tradition" suggests something static, while here we
deal with the traditions of dynamics. What concerns us now is
not classifying moods, but showing that they, too, are a form
of community, though highly specific. B. D. Parygin, for one,
suggests that we consider mood a Marxist-Leninist sociological
category.! As we probe further, we shall find that "mood
community", too, ranges from causal and short-lived to what is
deeply rooted in objective historical factors. We have seen the
impo~ce Lenin attached to shifts in the opinion, emotion and
behaviour o~ the difl~rent classes and social groups brought
abou~ by S~lo-ec~~omlc changes and, in turn, paving the way to
defiDlte SOC1?-polmcal events. Moods always bridge the gap
from the "history of conditions" to the "history of events".
In more or less static phenomena, such as national or class
character, the psychic make-up or psychic order of a collective
the n~gativi~m ~owards "they" is 50metimes hard to detect:
and dlscovenng It requires a special analys;is. Yet in a dynamic
ph~nomenon or mood t~e negativ~ aspect is almost always
easily seen. A mood carnes an obVIOUS negative charge against
some aspect of the former way of life. A negative attitude

kat:g!iyaI?, (~:J~inM:~b~hchcs;ve?noy~

n:htroyeniyc kak ,otliologichesk:iya

G sud.
.as::l. oCLologLC31 C3tegory), V~slnilt LCllillgTadJlto~hilOl:PhY ~:d~;;:~Op!";~~rnlela, L9 6}, NO.1, Series on Economics,

BO

~:I\\:i\rd .. the hC';lIn Llf the "il C5 of hoth the ;); ~ t <lntl ')rC5l:nt
h (hara\lefL\ tlL III any '0(' _I "" ,I 'I
I
I
r .. .
.
". \.
111 are ,\ W \5
tti\"lh
l lI <:ltL.:~1 IInl oul) ,It s"lllcthlllg 'jut mure spc liu III) .1I""'Ln st
.\0111('1111111-;. I n l)thn WlHd,
the ",1 H:y .. l.lIe ~urv
.
_,.'
p"lte:u Iy
IIh Itru lllCli ul
',
h HI hnnl.:llw" ,'lhl)ut ,I"" k'",d (J ! communities.
t I ~l;\)" ,e argut:d that there are mOl)d\ of Lllm, contenunent
o r satlsfauHm, none of thent direued against anything. Y <:t they
too, arc opposed:. ,llld ~tnmg;ly. til any potcntial disturhance of
th~ ~tatus q~o. 1 hey arc dcfen,ive moods. An~' impr\,..,sion to
thc. contrary IS. ~ue ~o the au that whcn satisfied, people r<:c;lll
tI~C1 r p~st : ~CJOiCC I~ ~ victory achic\"ed. in having ovcr(()me
di ffi cultIes, In vanquis iung the cnemie that had stood in th<:ir
way. If this is ~ot the case, then the calm is nQt a mood. but an
a bsence of one, I.e. , a tranquillity of the senses.
The nat.ure. o f social moods is infinitely multiform , dcpcndi nj.(
on the obJ ectlve content of thc given historical dynamics. The
mood ~f thc .m asse~ du.ring a [cvolutionary upsurge or fi~htinj.(
fo~ n~ttonal ILberatl~n IS ~orlds removed from the indignation
gf1pp~n g peopi~ agat nst nolators of customs or, say, from the
eruptIOn o f discontent over some action by a tribal chief.
How~ \' e~, a n unmistakable "against" is always at hand.
,!h'.s IS :V?>' th~ state, church and the dominant idcoio!-,'y in
societIes dlvldcd IntO antagonistic c1asscs inhibits the dissemination and overt cxpression of a considerable variety of social
moods, for, as a rule, they tend to undermine the exisrin!!
order. T he exception is when moods are channelled along 'a
delibera te course, such as religious fanaticism against peopl~ of
a different religion, nationa l and racial chau,inism. anticom,
mUnl sm, etc.
This ta bula tion of forms and typcs of community, fo r aU their
infinite va ciety, bears out the fact that in the socio-psychological
cOntcxt ther arc im'a riably constiruted by the contr.lposition of
"we
" an d " {Icy
I ".
In this contr:lposition one of the e1emenrs may be more defi nite
and idcntifiable than the other. So, Ict us con'sider thc cxtreme
cases, when only onc of the elements is d efi ned :lI1d known.
r. Russian autocracy or nazism werc so [cpuls i,'c a "they"
that they pro\ided co nsidcmble room for a meeting of minds
among the mos t disparate forces and communities; it was opposition to those cle:lrly recogni sable " they" that prompted different social forces :lnd commumtlcs to unite in a \'~ue and ea~ily
disintegrating " we"_
J

--A..
f'/. '

6- 1918

81

However. opposition to Russian autocracy or nazism fornll:d

blx of well-defined communities. By contrast, the p~ychol(l.g
ical p8U~!l" governing "mob" action-and .bou(gcOI.s social
...,cbology emerged and long busied. itschU hWlth rrtcClhsc\y thl:
.cudyof "mob" behaviour-are a case 10 w Ie ~mc.m t c m~m
ben of the contraposition of "we" an~ "they" IS lughly dUSI~T.
It was probably due to this bourgeois mOuencc that the psyducs
of the moat amorphous community in existence, that of a mob,
..AI elevated to the rank of an universal model.
A mob is often a merely casual assemblage of persons. They
may have no internal bonds and become a community for sole
fa "on that they ace pervaded by an identical negative and dcstnu:tivc emotion directed against some persons, ideas or events.
In .hort, a mob frequendy constitutes a community only by ~int
of an "against", of opposition to a "they". That is unquestIOnably the initial and most primitive form of socio-psychic community.
This deliberate choice of the object of study by bourgeoi s
locia! psychology predetermined the conclusions; it seems likely,
in fact, that these desired conclusions predetermined the choice.
Dreading the growth of the mass revolutionary movement in
Britain, France and Germany. bourgeois sociologists advanced
.imiler theories to the eflect that the psychics of a mob or mass
of people is primitive, even pathological. I.e Bon, Tarde and
Siabde argued that critical thinking is impaired by belonging
to mob, that a penon becomes capable of destructive action
oo1y apiNt somebody ("they"!). They assigned the decisivc
part to the re,ction of imitation, to psychic contagion ("we"I).
Spontaneous mob action, therefore, is explained. on the onc
h,nd, by incitement on the part of agitawrs and, on the other,
by imitative mob reactions (i.e., atavism) inhercnt in gregariou s

,!.,

anim
Criticism of these rudiments of bourgeois social psychology

abcMld not oaiy refute data produced by the above authors,

but abo eapo.e the unscienti6c choice of the object of study: one
will hardly encounter in life such an "ideal" mob. an amor. . aod rpodom association of people. In any case. it has

8:1":'11 in CO'"IIM)O with a mob or mass homogeneous as regard s

d'il lIrkaW'md, taki", part in revolutionary acts, street dema.li ......, ... ,u!"

-.e

government buildings, etc., in which

prdiminary gl' .ter or lcuer intecnal bond ("we") is al00

W&yI dcli-.,.ble.

A. g[()~P of friends, an exclusive religious sect, and many

other. slt~atl~ns ma~ be cited as examples of a concrete an~1
defimte we opposmg a highly amorphous "they" .
. When he was fifteen, a writer tells us, he divided mankind
IOta. people who knew and appreciated Alexander Blok, th.,:
Russla.1l poet, and all the other people. "These other people'
he wntes, "seemed an inferior lot." The writer pointed to
r?verse aspe~~ of ."adul~~ion", that is, identification and nega
tlOn of the lIlfeoor lot . What concerns us is not his love of
Blok. At a more advanced age one may be as impetuousl)
~evoted not to a hero, but an ideal, idea, dogma Or truth. But
Impetuously one always divides people "for" and "against" on
the bas is of "we" and "they".
I-I ~ r e the oppos~tio n is not active, because the "we" groups
arc mtcnt on settlng themselvcs apart rather than attacking
anybody. Take a class of schoolchildren; mostly, they will no,
unite against a couple of rowdies; in that situation, almost in
va riably, a group of friends forms an exclusive circle, isolatin~
itself.
After the mob psychology concept miscarried, bourgeois social
psychology went to the other extreme: Italian sociologist Moreno
and others concentrated their attention on the smaller "we"
bonded by mutual sympathy, friendship and cmotion, tcnding to
isolate thcmselves from the amorphous multitude. Investigations
were conducted in the armed forces, at factories and in schools
with questionnaires and evaluations of people by a points system.
The investigators discovered the "microstructurc" or "infrastructure" of pcrsonal relationships, seeing a mosaic of mutual
attractions and repulsions, in place of a company of soldiers,
a group of workers, a class, etc. This enabled them to issue
a set of practical tips to commanders, supervisors and executives,
and doubtless some of their suggcstions could be usdul for
socialist society, too.
However, the investigations are rather superficial, dealing
with extreme va riants only that arc marginal among sociopsychic phenomena.
Now that we have considcred the twO extreme cases, it may
be ap propri ate to accept the concept of least organised and most
organised commun ities. A community distinJt from an amorphous or indistinct "they" may be defined as organised: it has
a lead er and authority, the executive functions in it arc differentiated and it has a corrcsponding internal structure.
2..

the

,.
82

83

Conn:rsch t,",c more (h:tinite ;tnll limited Ihl' "Ihey" group i~, t1~1.:
mure h()m'(:~cncolls anu monulithi, is ib (\lInll1ul\lly. tht' Ics, It I'
organised and the ll:sS it is hicrard~ll.
' . '.
. _ '_
This definition tits not only Il1I(ro~I\IUPS III \\ 1\II"h tht.: )1\\"
iblc, i.c., a purdy psychologicll hicr;udw, m;ly h~ d c:uly out
d
hOI " h 're not "we" 'ue LOtnplctdr lnJdmablc.
Inc W I c a w 0
f'" I ft
may
fit macrocommunitics, and n:ry large onl'S. On the. .\~ C ()
"
it, the example of war appears to dcn~' t.hi~: the t.!lll'my ~s 11Igh~>:
< I '

organised. but this requircs harsh t!lsc,,~llOc and a 11Icrarchl~

structure. But take thc case in its dynamiCs: so long as no ~at

breaks out the army is potentially pitted against aH foreIgn
armics in general and none in particular. And when, a country
is im'aded by an armed and organised fQ[cc, resistance has
almost always in history tended to assume t1.le form of a
people's war. Then the invader is opposed along Wlt~l the regular
arm\" by the population, i.e., a rclati\'cly less orgamsed mass of
people, this giving rise to local initiative, initiative frO~l ~cJO\:.
Actually, the relationship of organisation to no orgamsatlon I S
highly complex.
We have so far considered abstract extremes only. However,
it is much more promising to study the rangc of intermediate
situations in which the "we" and "they" arc variously or equall y
defined, for these comprise the majority of past and present-day
socia-psychic communities.
A. ETHNOPSYCHOLOGY, ETHNIC AND ARCHEOLOGICAL
CULTURES

In ancient times settling as far apart as possible was probably

the most widespread act towards strangers, the "they". Ethnic,
linguistic and cultural communities and sharp boundaries evidcntly began when further spatial separation was impossiblc.
Archeologists notc that the farthcr we go back to the past the
greater the distance between settlements. For some unfathomable reason, people c[Qssed vast expanses, floated on logs down
great rivers and, what was more, entrusted themselves to unknown currents in seas and oceans to reach other shores, many
losing their lives in the attempt. The dispersal of bOlJlo sapiens
in the four habitable continents, the archipelagoes and isolated
isla~~s over some 10 to 1) thousand years bespeaks less the
fenthty of the species and much marc the action of some mainspring that scattered men aU over the planet. This mainspring,

84

dt)llht1c!Osl~.

cOLlld he de~uihcJ as mutual rcpul-:.on. MutU:l1

clhnic and cultural attraction and fu!Oiun w<"s a considcrably
higher ~tagl! in the oppo~ition of "we" to "thc~' .
Save for the hln'll! ,-anKuard gffJUpS that once pushed e~pc
cially f"r in the 'iCardl for new scttlin::; grounds and lo~t touch
with thcir kin, thcrc was nCHr in km,wn history any trihe or
people totally i'iolated from its neighbours. That implic~ nf)t
only positive intercourse, such a~ barter, family or marriaj4o.;
honds, mutual vi~its and cultural exchangcs, but aho ncgative
intercoursc, for if two men turn their bacb on each other and
refuse to be alike, that, too, is a relationship. And thi, wa"
probably the kind of relationship that was mo~t widespread
between tribes and peoples in thc remote past. But they n(:ver
lost sight of each other and it is therefore proper to qualify this
as a relationship.
True, many archeologists, anthropologists and Iinl-!uists are
inclined to picture primeval mankind as consisting of isolated
social units, say clans, nomadic in their way of life and knowing nothing of each other. This concept de\'e1oped to supplant
the old linguistic idea of parent languages, i.e., of the historical
unit)' of vast families of languages and peoples traceable to the
earl iest humans and their language. However. some SO\'iet scientists advanced the new, fairly con\"incing scheme: a continuou ..
chain of primitive speech, with e,-ery rwo neighbouring group"
speaking different dialects. but dialects that were comprehensible to the other. Naturally, the de~ree of intelligibility diminished in the case of more distant groups, while migr;uion could
even break th is continuity with the tribe or group settling in
the neighbourhood of a people speaking an entirely differe.nt
language. For us this point of view only underscores the difference between the speech of the neighbouring groups. That
difference did not come about for natural causes. It had sen"ed
the group as an artificial means of isolating and dis.tinguishin g
oneself from strangers. Some probably spoke more ~i1pldly, others
stressed the words differently, some opened their mouth less
when speaki ng, others opened it wider, with the [(:sult t.h~t
labial sounds g:we way to dental or Iingu~,l; s?me ~\'OIded slb~
lams while others did not, etc. Strangers were Identified b~' their
difference from onc's owo, while one's own wcre identihcd h\
their diA'crence from str;lngers.
Ilowc\"cr, l:lIl.guage is but one of the e1eme~ts of cultm..:.
Archeologists found different types of tools, dwellings and ur..:n85

.at IIIt,D that the bearers of these

..
Mm other? Social psychology
CD deay tIaat: the cWr.erun:a v etc merely an external
tilt " we"' aad '-.," relationship,

tabulate many C'J'amples of this artifi cially

ditlereDce between neighbours, Fam il ies,

..,.,., 81oup1 invariably sought to be different from

III ideDtity.

holiday prb in the Baltic countries, for exambut dilfen from locality to locality. And
Ran ia. for example, there was dualism in
. t,esoed ethnographic detail even between two
: ""The platbands of our windows differ
they ..y, or "we dance this figure ditferently," The
between adjacent areas was highly varied and
. . . foiBrI etptellion in mutual ridicule.
and archeological facts concerning local
MlcI
peell1iaritiea from this angle, we discover
...,. uhe u boundariea between different communit ies.
0Iidd DOt conceive of "men', unions" and "men's homes"
....... GfpJ.rlll dtem to womeo. and vice versa. N either cou Id
. . ~ . . sroups, I&y, of adults and those under age,
. . . . . . iel'" the two aad draw a clear ritual line between
~ ...... die Eo.... of initiatiOD. That line could be either
......... . . . . . t wo clans, communities. settlements or
~ or It aald be IDblnaie .. bawecn factions unions com"""'""'- ---'-' ~.--.. ___ """"', ~ , ll tates, etc.
ch"~ Ltr of these relations is also highly
... faIIDW"', n.mple from the hunting pract ices of
tbe daorou cxpanaes of the pre-revolutio n

doiI .... diotilJ811i,hable by the facial tat-

.. weaporu and utensils j since the huntwere not dearly designated , on e simtattoo and left the corpse

of

hostility is, of
banter or conventhe eumination of sociocommaaitiel only from w ith in,
......itiou and imitation, is
01. OIl!'. o wn community to anand consolidation of
CImICDted community.

The earl.icr the sta~e of development, the clearer this stands

~)Ut. I~vestl~ators of the way of life and the beliefs of Austral~
lans, 1Il:ludlng witchcraft and magic, noted the pervasiveness
of emotIOns such as fear or horror and their relation to the antipathy between communities and tribes. Sickness, death and
other grief. is invariably ascribed to the sorcery of a member of
another tribe. And more often than not the whole tribe was
bl.amed, rather than any individual. Describing Arnhem Land
tnbes, ethnographer Baldwin Spencer noted that "natives , . ,
a~e always most frightened of the magic of another tribe or
d istant part" Spencer and Frank Gillen obscrved in reference
to Central Australian tribes that all alien things horrified the
nat ive, who is especiaHy fearfu l of evil so rcery from a d istance.
Missionary James Chalmers, too, indicated in a reference to the
aborigines of southern New Guinea that the state of mutual fear
permeating the minds of savages was lamentable . They believed,
he said, that every member of another tribe and every stranger
imperilled their life. A slightest rustic, the sound of a dry leaf
falling, the movement of a pig and the flight of a bird frightened
them at night, and they shivered from fear. Explorer E. M. Curr
noted that the death of a co-tribesman from disease or accident
was ascribed by aborigines to the sorcery of some hostile Or
unknown tribe. After the funeral, a detachment of warriors sets
out, thirsting for blood; they march 50-100 miles stealthily at
night in search of the trihes whose names arc unknown to them,
and on spotti ng a group belonging to another (hostile or unknown) tribe, they hide themselves and attack after nightfall,
and massacre men and ch ildren in their sleep. Enmitr and imagined evil blend in an antagonistic feel ing towards strangers .
Alfred William H owitt, who studied the Australian Kumai
tribes, remarked that in some respects the lifc of a Kumai wn~
a life of horror. I-Ie lived in consta nt fear of everything visible
and invisible. lIe neve r knew when a Bradgerak tribesman
would choose to pierce him with a spear from behind oc when
a secret enemy of his ow n tribe would cast an irres istible spell
on him. Mos t warS between the Australian tribes are traceable
to mutual charges of witchcraft. This is also mirrored in their
respective rites. Guessing the identity of the "culprit" of the
death of a tribesman was an important part of the funeral rites
of many Australian tribes.'
1 Sec S.;'

Tuk.lrc\', R,lIllli)<' Illmn' rdi&1I (E.lrlicr Furms uf Rdigi<ln),

Mosw\\' , I')(q. pr. (.;L-III

87

Obvious"', the above is true not only of the Austntlian ,aborigines. but 'also of other primiti\'c tribes . The nati\'cs In the
interior of former German New Guinea thought that every death
was caused by a secret enemy in the neighbouring. ~cttlcm c nt.
Papuans of the Mafulu tribe nc\'c r imputed calamities to tI~c
medicine man of their own village, whom they consequently did
not fear, and always to the witchdoctors of othc.[ vil,lagcs. Parkinson wrote of the Bainings inhabiting the Intenor of the
Gazelle Peninsula (New Britain) that if a friend Or relativ e died
suddenly, this was ascribed to enemies, the pcopl~ ~f the shore,
with no thought as to motives and the manner of ~1~lmg. Ethnographer Malinovsky reports that among the abOrigines of ~obu
Island (ncar New Guinea) magic "is a prominent factor In all
intertribal rclations. The fear of magic is overpowering, and
greater still when the natives visit far-away places and sec foreign and unfamiliar things". Karl von den Steinen, who explored
Brazil, found that to a Bacaid tribesman "all the evil (kurapa,
which means both 'not ours' and 'alien') sorcerers live in fo rei gn
villages".l As we sec, "they" and "strangers" are seen a s th e
personification of sorcery, death, even cannibalism. And the
interesting fact is that attributing magic powers and wickedness
to another people or its medicine men is mostly mutual ; for
example, the Indian Todas consider their neighbours, the Kurumba. as powerful sorcerers, while the latter fear them for the
same reason. The Laplanders (Saami), too, inspired awe in their
neighbours, the Finns, Karelians and Swedes, who considered
them dangerous sorcerers (see the Kalevala tales of the ho[(ible
sorcerers of Pohjola), while the Laplanders thought the same of
Finns and Swedes. 2 Evidently, magic powers were attributed to
whole settlements and tribes in the earlier stages of development,
whilc in more recent times, tribes singled out some of their own
mcm~rs, ~ttributing to t~e~ the powers of sorcery.
Th'~ agam reveals the slgmficance of the outside "they" in the
evulutlon of the self-awareness of every community. However,
the mOrc d.e~elopcd ~s a co~munity the less distinct this aspect
?c~m~s. glvmg the ImJ?resslon that a community is bonded by
Int~IflSlC ~actors ?n which external opposition has no bea ring.
ThiS 31,'pites particularly to fixed psychic patterns, e.g. to ethni c
or national ' character
Yet thOIS concept Ie d eth"
'
.
'.
ole psychology
to a theoretical Impasse time and again.
~ S..A. Tok.uev, op. cit., pp. 86-87.

- Ibid .. p. 88.

88

The; cthnops)'chologist who empirically observes the peculiar

hd13Viollr, the reactions and emotions of a trihe or people, whn
c()mpares them with those of other tribes or peoples, faces til ..
qlll.:stion: where to look for the root causes of these peculiarities? The writers who offer answers to this question may he
classed in two categorics.
Some sccm to cling to inferences suggested by natural science.
For them physical, corporal and anthropological specific~
account for psychic idiosyncrasies. But scientifically, their ideas
proved irrelevant. There is no causal connection between the two
sets of phenomena. A child of one physico-anthropological type
or race brought up in a foreign socia-cultural environment and
isolated from his compatriots docs not possess the idiosyncrasies
of t heir psychic make-up. Vcllard, a French ethnographer who
studied the Guayaki (a savage South American tribe), picked
up a small girl abandoned by the Guayaki fleeing in panic at
the approach of the party of ethnographers. The girl was taken
to France and raised in Vellard's family; she was given a firstclass education, and became an ethnographer herself, and finally
the helper and wife of the man who sa\'ed her.
Relating ethnic psychic peculiarities to physical anthropology
outside traits specific to temperament which account neither
for complexes nor for higher psychic functions, is thcrefore unscientific. This may be an error, a gross one, bue made in good
faith, o r an artifice to camouflage racism, the doctrine of the
biological superiority of some races and peoples.
There is also the school, as old as the hills, which attributes
psychic make-up and character to climate and geographic factors. Many antique authors reasoned along these lines, among
them Hippocrates and Strabo. In the 18th ccntury French educator Montesquieu p roduced a system argu ing that natural conditions predetermined the disposition and customs which, in
turn , determined the political order. Montesquicu arrived at the
conservatist conclusion that natural conditions being :llmosr
invariable, each people must cling for e\'er to its spccific po litic:l1
ord er and squash all tcmporary non-conformities. In rhe newcr
hourgeois ethnography th is climatico-geographical .trend has a
fai rly big fo llowing, its essence being as conscrnltl\'c and CO\'e rdy racist as eve r,
. '
.
Those who associntc the p~)chic make-up With the hl~t(lrr(
ally specific cconomic, social and cu ltural [ather tiun n,Huml
conditions, belong to the second category.
89

Their approacb is far more scientific. though the di ffe rent

trends are many and some of them quite helpless. Those who
hiler that sod.1 'order and culture are eternally immuta?1c and
j.dl'Cftnt, are unable to explain the origin of ethnopsychl c c~ ar
ac:tetiltics' they have neither the argument nor the fu nction,
neither th; cause nor the effect. Even though they do not ded uce
Plychic features from anatomical. f~turcs. th~y treat then: ~~
COIlI"'"t and immutably charactenstlc of the given peo ple. fbls
U akin CO biologism and racism.
The more cautious approach is to look for functional <?f ca usa l
relationships between the existing culture a?~ the psychIC ~akcUP. though the search is not always a promISing one. That 15 the
cue with the Western school which attributes to the cultural
milieu the decisive influence in forming psychic idiosyncra sies
in the first few months 01 the individual', lile. Hence the attention it pays to the traditional national methods of nursi ng /
infants. Critics describe this jokingly as the diapers complex. The
joke. if taken too far, may be misplaced, for the initial psych ic
expelience of a child .hould not be overlooked. H owever, the
exponents of the "diapers complex" tend to ignore the conte....poraneous "age psychology" concerning the extent of the
inRuence of impressions and habits acquired in the initial months
of life. The norion that more than j O per cent of the personal
idiosyncrasies issue from education in the pre-speech period is
obviOUIly unscientific. The modern psychologists arc mo rc
inc1iDed to attribute a bigger role to speech (external, interna l,
internalised) in the psychic motivations of human behaviour.
P_re in"..tigetors will probably measure the relative importance of the various factors with greater accuracy. Promi nence
will be livCll to the traditional forms of work, who se influence
on the psycbk malre.up is unquestionably very great indeed , for
work i. the moat important sphere of human intercourse. H owever, wock proccl' ~' have a tendency to similarise thei r ethn ic
~ " iaaai
give way to technological' homogeneity
mc:c-t by doe I ,mderlly of the objecu of labour. The lingui stic
flt~or, ~biIe, ia likely to gain importance in future invcstigh.- precitcIy because ', nguage is the principal mechanism
while . ~150 t~e mechanism of iso lating th e
we. ~ otber cu+"munlties (umcomprchension" ). E thnic COIll''"'itJ II~- tbe oaIy community sUl tained by lingui stic differ,acm", "ac .....
- - I .
I .
UIIII: _C Ullve ',Items 0 SIgDS used by va rious socia l

'p;ri!K' .

?!"

. . ,

groups, profcs'\ions, castes, sects, territorial communitic~. even

circles of friends (e.g., nicknames), etc.
Co-opcr:ltion between ethnic psychology and historical linguistics is therefore highly promising and likely to be fruitful,
because of the predominance of speech among the psychic factors moulding the personality. Lexicology and etymology should
be given precedence over language structure, phonetics, morphology and syntax. Language is the bank of historical experience
to a far greater extent than any other sphere of culture, but its
ow n formal differences are sometimes related to shades of the
psychic make-up.
Interesting, though not unquestionable, is the contention of
the Danish ethnographer, Jens Bjerre, who in his comparative
study of Bushmen and Australians, similar in many respects,
reveals that the system of their languages (in which gender is
expressed by inflexion) favours the development of mythology
(as an attempt to understand the classification of phenomena
performed by the language). Inflected languages are conducive to
perso nifying natural phenomena or heavenly bodies, Bjerre says,
w hile the primitive peoples speaking non-inflected languages
(e.g., negroid tribes) have no mythology and arc ancestor worshippers. t Th is may be right or wrong, but is. ".alid all the sar,ne
as a n example of how language characterIStics affect soCiapsych ic processes.
.
The relationship between language and the deeper. psy~hlc
processes is very close. According to the latest phys'~log,cal
co ncepts, hieroglyphic and phonetic writin.g actua.te dlf[e~cnt
a reas of the cortex in even a somewhat different lI1terrclatlon.
Mi mic ry a nd pantomime (gesticulation), though they are
poorer mechanisms of communicatio~ than speech, are also
psychic dete rmina nts of ethnic community .. O~e ne~d n?t be overpe rce ptive to note, for example, that in slmtiar situatIOns representatives of one nation smi le more often than those of others.
I t is not the quantity that matters, of course, bu~ .the sensory
and semantic impli cations. In this area, too, tmdltlons arc ns
deep and pervasive as ~n .the l i~gual context.
'. .
'.
It would be unreahstlC trymg to concoct :1 SOC,?-ps)cholog~c
tab le listing the characteristic ~nd . distincti,"e tratts of ethnIC
communities. The importnnt tiling IS to note th:1t the smatter
I Jens Ujerre.
196}. p. 1}6.

91

-Ln', community is the morc specific and limited the tokens

ID cu. I
'
.
d I
h " I .,
1
by which the "we" is distlogu1shc. [om t c tlcy anc \'IC,C
veua. This "external" discrimination, ~s ~~ have ..st rc~~cd .. IS
logically primary in relation to the [csultlng. IOtcrnat um~c~t~on
of. community, which fact is easier traced 10 the more pnmltlYC
and smaller groups of people.
. .
.
Properly speaking, cthnopsychology was Orlgmally tntended to

study such small communities. Its scope widened at a later stage

to include the modern nations and groups of peoples, and then

races.
And it is in its dealings with this macroworld that cthnopsychology sheds its scientific aura. Bourgeois psychologists
specialising in the Scandinavian peoples have no choice than to
speak: of a "cultural" rather than national character, becau se the
psychic differences between the Scandinavian nati ons arC
obscured by the many common traits of culture and charactcr. By
contrast, in Indonesia many cultures blend in one nation still in
its formative stage.
The only sphere where maccoscale ethnic psychology is living up to the hopes of its exponents though the scientific results
are still imperceptible, is study of the national psychology of potential war enemies, a flourishing topic of Western war psychological literature. Regrettably, such eminent psychologists as H ore r,
Benedict and Honingham are closely associated with the idea of
psychological indoctrination, with propaganda and help to politleal agents abroad. In effect, any practical benefits that may
accrue therefrom come less under the head of "psychological"
and ~ore u~der tha~ of ideological warfare, i.e., of propagand a
and lOculcatlon of Ideas. This has no immediate reference t o
social psychology. Certainly, it is helpful to know the culture,
custo~s and mO.res of foreign peoples-not only of enemies, but
of allies, for thiS knowledge promotes fruitful intercourse. But
that, too, is neith~r. ethnopsy~hology nor social psychology. When
experts s~ll to m'hta~ !nstltution~ what is purported to be
psycho~ogtcal c~aractenst1cs of nations, they arc realiy palming
off th~1[ ~hort-s,ghted customers nothing but trivial nonsense.
. It 15 different when military institutions of imperiali st countnes cmp!oy et~n?psychological knowledge in their colonial and
n~colomal ~ctlVlty. Traditional differences are ohen inflated to
split devcl~plRg nations, fanning discord among tribes or tribal
groups. w~lCh only goes to confirm the fact that ethnopsychology
applies chiefly to smaller rather than larger communities, and
92

kss so to tlH:ir internal cultural bonds than {O their cultural

di~tin(lioO$ :\nd exclusiveness.
NO\~ tu sUl~ up. l'or ~ln:heology and ethnography (uiture Ii
ncver 10 the slll~ular. but alway) a relationship of cultures.
What occurs is a dual process: cultural dissociation (nc:ltiun
of differences between "we" and "they") and cultural assimil:lt~on ?y borrowing and penetration (partial or complete associa
tlon III a common "we"). Western authors call the latter procc~s
acculturation. In that case cultural dissociation should be called
"di~culturation'. llistorically the two never existed separately,
though the ir relative proportion varied.
S. WE

The subjective side of any human community, of every collective, springs from the dyadic or bilateral psychological phenomenon we described as "we and they", by dissociation from
orher communities, collecti\'es, groups, and a simultaneous mutual
identification of the persons in the group. Psychologists also use
the terms "antipathy" and "sympathy" (co-experience). However,
these terms are too narrow and, moreover, instead of antipathy
there may be friendly rivalry, raillery or a simple org:loisational
pattern. Distinction externally and identification internally may
also be described in the psychological terms, "negativism" :lnd
" conragLQSlty
. . ".
The twO aspects should be considered in close association.
Practically all series of socia-psychic phenomena ha\e both these
sides. Socia-psychic processes bind and, in a way, standardise :l
comn\tloity, prompting similar predi\cctions and acts of behaviour. This [L1 IlS parallel to socio-psychic processes that engender tendencies of opposition to or isolation from other commu.
nities by some specific quality.
The twO simultaneous processes may be spont:loeous or dehberate and ideologically motiv:lted, depending .on social conditions. Their material substratum is in the phYSLOlogy of ncr\'ous
activity. Among other sources, psychic contagio~ity draws. on
automatic imitation, which de\'eloped long :lgo m our anlm.ll
forebears' their mysterious mechanism has not becn discO\crcd
so far. Th:lt is the biological b:lsis of contagiosity. A "we". forms
from mutual identification, i.e., the action of the mech.an~sm. ~f
imitation and contagion, while "they" form~ f~om ~hcLr mhlbLtion by suppression, imifation or refusal to mlltate Lmposed on

93

individual. by nature arul the environment. AU . "we" an: eithe r

--'y opposed to ....IoU
L ey ", and VICC versa.
overtly or covCJ:U

What
sec are two fundamental phenomc~a like , Ii;\ )'.
" wcd "Db"bi,,"on IOn .L e physiology of the higher nervo us
es...",.uon
an 1 1
W
d"
""
""
f"
d"
"dual
Identi6aation
and
ISSOClatum nrc
actiVity 0 ID I V I

oppGIitc processes, but they interact and form a van~ty 0 co~n

binetioDS. Probably, this accounts (01' the dch fabnc of SOW 1!
paycbology. These simple and abstracted elements become as
mmplicated III the social reality.
First. approach the question abstractly and generally. ~ct A and
B be two human communities. The extreme cases of their ~lutual
dissociation would be, first, a minimum of di~e~cncc. Wlt~ ~ll
other characteristics the same, and, second, a mtnlmum of .slnlllBeity, with all other characteristl~s different. It gocs Without
saying that this similarity and difference should belong. to the
socio-psychic sphere, i.e., be fixed and a~cented by atten~lOn and

bod",..

behaviour, in contrast to similarity or difference m phYSical and

material tmts always objectively present. There are, of course ,
many tran9iti~nal stages between the indicated extremes, but
what we are after here are precisely the extremes.
The first may be illustrated by two teams of workers performing similar tasks in dose proximity of each other. For the
sccond extreme picture contact between two distant ethno-cultural communities which have neither a common linguistic medium nor any other means of communicating.
In both cases the "we" is so deeply impressed in the consciousness that the points of distinction from "they" recede into
the background and seemingly disappear.
This recession of psychic negativism is, in a way, a synonym
for the ocganisation and solidarity of the given community. The
better the internal organisation of a group the more is it opposed
to all DOn"'IDembers, not merely specific outsiders .. A choir is a
group of people singing in unison. It is a "we" opposed to an
audience oc, on a bigger scale, to all non-singing people.
& soon as a "we" group forms, it can either accentuate or
inhibit the emotions or actions of its members. It is the "booster" that "accelerates" an inclination, enhancing and possibly
intcnaifyiog it many times over.
Co-opc:ration oc a job performed collectively bear this out.
United fotcc is peater than the sum it composes of individual
iomc., aacl not merely due to division of labour, but also to
the fact that the iDdividual forces increase. Marx described this

phellOllH
n4m 10 hi ., Ca IJI J(I,I I n a simp
. Ie unum
. of hOnlngcnC'O\h
.
he.
wrote
"or f,n I y t hclr
" lorn
. I
ILd)olLr
.'
.hy rn;\I1~ pc' 'It1'.,
..
JtnCl I pOwer
)LlOUlC1 .re.lt.~ (hul the "urn 01 incii ...jJual ftfree. (this 1.l(t
rl.l.u~~ t., tilt: spht'n.: 01 pnxiuc'ioll proc'sse , Inn tlll:ir con.
Lilt III the pn!ccs . 01 Wink "hrings forth emulatllHi ,1nJ .1 Sort of

growth

::f

alllma,1 spi.rits wbi<:h cnhancc<; abilities of individual

workt:r~ .' Marx Imp!te~ by "animal spirit~" that science ha~ IIt)t
'l\. yet cll~<:()vcre~ t~c. nature l)f the ps)'chic mcchani\m impelling
till .... growth of l~dlVldual energy through competition in a col.
~t.:ct l ve. A kw hnt.:s iowt.:r he suggests an explanation: the fact
lS, he says, that man is inherently a social animal.'
. One .of the trends in social psychology in the capital;,t coun
tries se ized on this empirical fact, and the exploiter c1o'~'" was
on ly too happy to supply it lavishly. Reports published hy ,tI(;h
Western psychologists as \Y!. Meode, H. Herzncr and other~ on
thl.! g~eater intensiveness and higher efficiency of group labour,
ex peri mentally confirmcd the data of particular interest to
I.!mployers.:! Sovict p.)}chologists are also interc.)[ed in this ~ct
of ~henomcna, although from entirely different social considerations.
One of the elementary concepts of social psychology is that of
a social group seen not as an aggregate of individual psychics,
but a system either intensifying or inhibiting "arious aspects of
ind ividua l psychics. In dealing with this aspect, social psychol
ogy can justifiably abstract itself from opposing a community to
a ny o the r community, the abstraction permitting only an internal
a na lysis of the communit),.
In so doing, however, we move into that area of social psychology w hich studies rclations between a community and a n
individua l. For the time being, we shall confine ourselves to
ex tremes with no marked opposition between :1 community and
its me mber (to be d iscussed in the followi ng ch:1pter), where the
prev:1 i1ing attitude is tholt of a "we" group, the "they" aWi.ueness beina so wC:lk o r vague :1S to cscnpe conscious perception .
W e h:l~'e had an earl ier examp le fro m the histor ical a nd
ethnogcaphic pas t of the Tungus hunters. People tattooed their
faces and orn:l memed their weapons to bc d istinguishable fro m
other cla ns of the samc tribe. Against the setti ng of thi s intr:1
tribalcnmity, thl.! need for mutual aid and knitting the dan
I Sec K M,u:o;. Capital, \'01 ... Moscow, 196j. p. ;16.
2 II . H ennt,:f, Humall Rdalio1li, Berlin, 196 ,.

95

more closely together accentuated the contagiosity of tribal eus

U-hl, until at last all thoughts of "others" were forgotten and
the tribal customs were accepted simply as their "own" or
"ours",
The stronger is the awareness of "we" the more widespread
are the imitative acts and the mutual contagiosity. And thi s
awareness is the greater the more organised the community is.
In recent years the anti-communist hysteria in the U.S.A.
sparked a peculiar campaign in sports. A doctrine appea red ,
propagated by an organisation, that genuine sports in the world
of "free enterprise" implied the sport of individual sportsmen,
and that team competition should be boycotted. For the expo~
nents of this obscurantist idea, the popularity of team sports (as
though they did not become popular until socialist countries appeared on the map) is a sinister communist gain, for in team
'ports the "individual dissolves in the collective". Thcy advocated banning team competition. a source of "communist infection".
These ranting champion, of individualism forgot that team
games are as old as is sport (closely related in ancient times to
the act of war). As for the psychology of sport, all sportsmen
know that the presence of 'pectatocs. especially of fans ("we"),
'P~~ contestants to somewhat better results than they showed in
tr8!OlDg. But even when practising by himself, the athlete is not
really alone, for he consciously or unconsciously imitates rivals
o~ ~tes or botb. running. mentally, with other runnCrs, and
plcturmg the excitement of the spectators.
B,!t what concerns us here is the phenomenon in its pure and
tangible f~rm. A team ga?le unquestionably spurs on every
~layer. 11115 has been experimentally investigated and descri bed
~n ~book. under the head of social psychology. A schoolboy
given a dynamom~ter and he registers his maximum on it.
en the pr~u~e IS repeated. in front of his classmates, and
theha rcsbeeult 11 lDvanably higher. Many such experimental method s
ve
n suggested and tried
Pi~rc yourself in a psychologist's office. That hypnosis and
ar:a more eff~i,:e. in the case of a group of subjects
tbe
the f ~ of an mdlVldual, with only the hypnotist and
iJ OIU ,eet a~'ng .eacb ~er. is common knowledge. This fact
Ita cq>~1ted .;n med1cal practice, for it is held that mutual
~u I;". (or .~tators) add. to the power of
, c ectlv~ness II the bigher the greater the size
IfOUP and, what JI more, it increases more rapidly than

Th

;::"!taon
b'

96

the number of pcrsrms subjected to suggc<;tion. Furthermore the

t:.ffcc.t dcpcnc.i .. largd~ on the prestige or authority of the hy'pno.
tl st III the !?I\'C~l conronmcot, or, on the pcrsonifiC-lticm in 111m
of t ht.: orgarH'>.\tIOIl and solidarity of a coll(xtivc
Ahove"

,":'C

dealt with experiments in the Inhorato[y, in the

psyc hologist s office, and they were necessarily one-sided. But

our n,,:emor~ will rcadily recapitulate a great many situations
fro m life to illustrate the same mechanics.
T he ,,:hlctc in a stadium, the pupil gripping a dynamometer
bcfon: h IS class, an actor before an audience and a speaker taking the. floor all show an additional margin of skill, w it and
expressiveness.
Another example is the age-old mechanism of religious suggestio n to a crowd of things such as exaltation, visions, fanaticism, t hat could ncvcr havc been suggcsted to mcmbcrs of the
crowd separately.
We know from history that the "we" fceling-fanaticism, sectarian scntiment and bigotry-arc exploited for aims other than
the intercst of people. Religious rites knit people together in
communities marked all too frequently by an extreme exaltation
of the "wc" sentiment.
\'ifas not a similar mechanism employed by the nazis to befog
the minds of millions of people? Have not the nazi-staged
"cndless parades and mO\'ements of dehumanised people to the
stupefy ing beat of drums and hysterical ranting trained legions
of a utomatised assass ins"?l
Similar t hings, though not as hyperbolised, may be sc:n in the
political pract ice of the capitalist world, e.g., the ciectlon caffi.
pa lgns.
.
Howeve r, this reactionary "we" feeling that goes agatost the
interests of the peoplc is opposed by the historically progressive
consolidation of the worki ng masses in the class struggle and the
national liberation movements. The working class displayed :1
strong inclina tion towards uniting as soon .as .it stepped. ?nto t.he.
historical scene. The large scale of capltah~t. prOdlh..tltl~ "\\ .1:
cond uci\'e. Worke rs united first in the enterpmcs, the.n 1n t~e
branches of indu stry, then on a nation.ll sC<lle, .1nJ hlull.y. to
inte rnationa l associations to fight for their econonllC and pol~ttcal
interests. A spirit of unity and solidarity per\",l(\cs rhe hncst
.I .
1 Probhmy SoU/u 1Iot
Moscow, 196j, p. H9
1-1918

p,,kb"'log',
...
97

(P r(l hi C!;\~

. f
S
' ,)(U

P,,,h,lo!:,~.
-

of. the histoy of the

working-class movement. 111C "we"

p:nt iatD .. Iwareneu of the iocio-historical necessity
actioa by the worken, their political parties and trade

of the DOn-prolnari. n sections of the people,

on las scientific. awareness but still of a high

maJiDlalial and piJchologica1 order, appear. on the scene
frequently at times of national unmcadon aDd liberation, especi-

.,. ia the context of the anti-imperialist struggle.

In tod.1ist society these socio-psychic mechanisms have changed,
. it has DO intrinsic antagonisms that would breed any
objectively or icienti6.ca1ly substantiated particular "we" groups
ia oppoU.tion to other "we" groups. The psychological traits
-rindy new in socialist society are less tangible to the people
there, but Ittike the eye of foreign observers. Alan Sillitoe, the
ptOgl( ive British writer, for example, made a special note of
the faa that Soviet workers as compared with the British have
dcte10ped a sense of common possession. A Soviet worker, he
obU:hed. will say: "We're building new houses", "We're putriAl up a new factory", whereas, say, a Nottingham worker
would lay: "They're building, . " or "They're putting up., .".
In the Soviet Union. Sillitoe added, everybody says "We are
b.ajJdios;", be it a writer. a city Soviet deputy. boxer. taxi-driver
or ltUdeot.
Though Sillitoe', impression may sound somewhat schematic,
it conveys the immense difference between the socio-psychic
"we" category in capitalist society, wrecked by class antaaoojlms, and in socialist society. where no class antagonisms exist.
Yet a socio-historical "we" group is inconceivable without
opposition to a "they" group, for the "we" group is no more
thao an abstractioD if viewed in isolation. Consolidation of the
workio~ class is D?t a purely iDtra-class process, but rather a
tei~lutwnary one, ~e:, a consolidation in the COurse of struggle
~ an. antagonlStlc class, the bourgeoisie, in pursuit of the
ulbm ate m, the overthrow of capitalist rule, And the unity of
die
people caD hardly be viewed in isolation from the
CIJI1ib ouous war danger emanating from the capitalist world or
tile eoooom.ic competition and ideological struggle.
Howc:,er! we have. Doted that the ..they" category does not
~Y ~ply enmity and war. The ~Io.ser the people unite in
~
~e. more cl~ly socialIst labour competition
8DeqeI u an IOmaSIC law of SOCialist growth and progress. From

:;eviCt

---I IOCIctr.

98

c.nmpctition .I~etwecn individuals we ~oon passed on to collcc.

tl.\e .,(olll.petltlon in which inter-team (inter-shop. ett.) '(ont,l.
~lOn with lahour ':mhusiasm (om hi ned with rivalry hCTwcen
team .. worhhops. bc tOries, collect'n.; anu ,tate bums. di,lri;,:t"
etc.
This brings us back to the basic thcsis. Neither history nor
ethnography know of any groups or communities of people, of
any "we" groups, isolated and unopposed to others. It would
he out of thc natural context to discus~ the specific increasing
or diminishing influence of a collectivc or community on the
motivcs or patterns of conduct of its individual member~, unless
we consider thc simultancous external features distinguishing
that collective Or community from others. Thosc arc two sides
of the samc phenomenon.
1I0wc\'cr, a social psychologist or historian should always
remember that these may also be imaginary "they" groups. IE a
"we" group cannot constitute itself without opposition, it may
rcsort co illusions, fancr. fiction, or fabrication. The "they" .group
is then imaginary, of which history abounds in examples.
Frequently politicians rallied the social forces by deliberately
circulating rumours or false reports of imaginary conspiracies or
spies, "Comintern plots" and "the hand of ~loscow". The absurd
fabrications about Negroes and Jews designed to cement the
national "wc" whenevcr it is rent by real antagonisms ami class
struggles, belong to this imaginary "they" category. the \\'ork
of racists and anti-Semites. Examples m.1)' be cited ad infinitum.
The extremes exemp lifying the imaginarr "they" arc the hosts
of im'ented demons and angels, infernal spirits and di,'ine
forces. The social role of these phantoms, among other thing~, is
to replace real "they" groups where these arc lacking, in order
to form large or small psychic communities. And we may e,cn
analyse the conccpt of deities or the one god from thi~ an~le.
It will be shown below how a "be" emerges at the JunctIon
of the "we" and "they" groups and how that "he" (han~cs into
"you". In religion (Christianity, Islam) God is both a "he" anl~
a "rou". In rclation to the psychic opposition o~ '.\~: and the\"'
social psychology offers new horizons for a sClentlflc ~tlllh of
the ori<lin and n;lture of the religious concepts.
In t1~e extreme manifestations, the imaginary "thc~" is cntircl\"
unrelated to real things. In the majority of C..lses, howe\"l!~. ,,:e
witness a less pronounced phenomenon: a real tr:llt ~s
hyperboiiscd, inflated or distorted by the im;lgin;ltion. In dus

,.

99

context the imaginary " they" arc a chnractcri sti c ;lI1d wid e~rrcnd
sodo-psychic phenomenon.
The psycholtl~ist mlLst he on the lookout fIll" these " the,' " imperceptible at first glance. This ps,chic mc(h.\ni~m i .. a (l) ll sl<l1ll
critical gauge for one's own "we": perhaps clements which arc
camouflaged as "we", but arc not really "we" <lnd belong to the
"they". have filtered in. This relentless, keen search is nbsolutdy essential. And naturally it is the morc intcnsi\'e thc more
camouf]aged arc the alien clements. Accordingly, hostility an d
alienation may be directed not only at dist3nt (ultures or CO Ol munities, hut also at the closest ones almost identical with the
"we" culture. Possibly, the socio-psychological opposition of " we
and they" is even sharper in rebtion to thesc supposed camouflaged "they".
6. MOOD

It will be recalled that all types of socio-psychic community

may be roughly divided into stable and mutablc, i.e., into psych ic
make-up and mood. What has been said of "we and they " is
also true of the contraposition of any twO peoplcs, any two
classes. any two social strata or two professions, and of thc contraposition of discontented, antagonistic and militant groups of
people to antiquated socio~political systems and their bearers.
In both cases external differences stimulate the inner identification; negativism directed at a "they" group stimulates conta~
giousness among the members of the "we" group.
Peoplc gripped by a homogeneous mood and expressing it
more or less jointly thus comprise a community. As a rule, mood
is manifested not circuitously-through culture and habits reproducing everyday routine-but directly through certain emotions
and shifts in the consciousness, Moods arc born from contradictions in social being or from objective socia l conditions. The
needs and interests of people come into conflict with the possibilities of satisfying chern.
Both the needs and interests arc a fairly complex sociological
and, simultaneously, psychological concept. Needs arc not a
purely natural physiological category; they are different in different historical socia-economic and cultural conditions. Moreover, needs are not only material, hut include a greater or lesser
number of spiritual requirements.
Needs are different in intensity, e,g., there may be an attrac-

tion. l wl~h. a l ~, ...s MJOn a' t~ il(J~ . . . itnl and JI C'lt ~e .:

arc satjsli~d. dlOic~ ... nL prL Cre1(_ g ,lW \'('hatl 'Ie ~t ~. t is
;\I\\:<l~" ,\~ Lnelinal n for soml tbing thaI IS lacking. And ;l, nl c j
)atl~JH:d L\ a need no longer,
rnterests, per~OILlI inte- ~stlnd those c.wc p !1dinJ: tit the
oh jcdive needs and subje ti;e PUrsUIt:; of a c.:lmmunitv, f"f('
for med hy the sum of the perSlStin~ ~tablc needs. Class, ~oc ,II,
specificallv professional and ~roup intcrc!>ts arc decoer tllln p( c'
~() na l ones, and at times testrict the latter. Tn houn;eoi~ ~O(ie'y
the personal and community interests ela~h. A paramount feature
a nd task of socialist society is to ensure their hafm()ni()lI~ accom
mod ation.
Social interests gi,"c risc to wcial aspirations. idcah, wi~hcs,
hopes, some vague, othef$ more or less considered and cnnsciom.
f ina liy, social moods arc an emotional state related to fulfilment or impracticability, to the \'arious phases of the effort making hopes and expectations, plans and designs come true . .A~ a
rule, social mood is an emotional attitude towards those who
hinder or, conversely, aid in fulfilling de~irc~. They ran;..\c from
purely affected moods to frame of mind and eyen public opinion.
Th'e group or collecti,'c mood attracted the attention of many
outstanding scientists, among them \'. ~1. Bekhtcre\', I ,~h()
endeavoured to create the science of social p~ycholo~y, the ptllnts
emphas ised being the impulsiyeness. dynamics, ~hangeabilit)',
hes itation a nd capacity of moods to turn into actlOm . .l.ust ;u
mob psychology, moods were chiefly considered in rclatlOn to
a n a morphous mass of peoplc. It is quit~ true that ~()ods ~pre:ld
rarely among the whole of a stable SOCIal communLty. Howc\'~r,
stemming from objecti"e needs and intc~est~, they often ~el~e
the maj ority of a community. Still more Importan~. a mood, III
turn , makes" a nd sh:lpes a community, and the more It docs so, the
more it is enduring and org:lnised, i.e., apprehended and clear.
Passing $oc i;,1 moods, which :It time~ affect cI'1SSCS ;~nd .str:lt~\,
may change into each other. ~loods nu'" he crro~eou~, :ls. "hc~
bred by n blse rumour. But the more st;lhlc the~ ~n; .the m(~rc
" group an,
d the, t:fo,c " a dLstLnct,,'e SOCIal
they represent n "we

101
100

to-. 'fte ......... dqpee of

I.<lal dCielopment the greater

til 1M .abpe for .... dynamic o;PA..iliunities. Moods may be

...,. pGIIkhe. Le., ea.wering the """r~1 and efforts ai med at
IiII&IIiIt ","'IatWftI and ideal. TIaae Fte rile to class solidar--. ......... otiaaeDt. lCiolulWn.ry feeling or the urge for
....... 1IJeratioD., "bodt' eutiauWm, confidence a nd good
......... tpiritI aad heuAm, pIltriotil m. moral, aesthetic Or
........ apIIft, etc. Mood. may be antagonistic when the realitill 10 QIIIIIlter to the upiration. DiKOlltent, worry, uncasi_ , weIIdaeu, feat, wtada lad indignation are then th e char~ train. Mood. may be specific for an era, as was the
Jut: for reckless and fortuitoUi way. of enrichment duri ng: the
,.Iod of prim ..,. accumulation, the inclination to chival ry and
durm, the era of CNudei. and the appetite for
pleaure or, by contrast, renunciation of creature com
/wI ia the IMt centuri.. of the Roman Empire.
B. D. ParrIin Soviet inveatigator of socio-psychological
ptC~I", dClcribei the ".tate of mood thus: "So, a mood is
cuaapIes. ...,....ided aad hiPly impulsive and emoti onal state
of ."..,..akr. Group, coI1euive ad mass moods, wh ile rctainill' ~ tnita. poilu.,
of additional ones, C.j:!., con......... Ii' ...,. Impuhi.e fon:c. mall character and dynam .... 1-...e .I'lilClcrima m.ke poup mood a particularly im ....- ..... ill ... fot",.ti<Jo of lOCial psychology. The impulse
.. _ DOd aIcI. at the "Die d'M. its rel ponse to influcnce make
it tile cIIief link ia l' "'elin, the individual's internal w~rld."1
,.... II .... ~u(,,;e11 important aspect in the social mood :
It ........ . lID iDS.IDee. '10 be lhaped and changed within
....., ~ it ceo be 1IlaItIel'ed. At ODe extreme, mood is con..... .......b\ IIId at the other with persuasion and propa: : . . 'fte ...... . .,. be eduClted and guided by means of

umw,

_It
.1::."~

edtaIar
~

of the potentialities of social psvehology.

to en.1yae the factors producing moods,

: :....~..... ciauet in country and intern ationally ;

.....,.. aatioaaJ. and internationa l ('motions

yego priroda i dinatee the collection Problt:my

Psychology) . Moscow, 196 \ .

t~~

0'

iJ

.. III~ 06s6c~stve"n~yt: nl1stro)~.nie

.. dc._J the l iven soclo-ps)"chologlcal

play ing a prominent part in our life, to analyse ma~s cnthu~iasm

and despondency. collective actions and even collective crimes .
I,n th~ w?r1d of today, the credibility and truthfulness of idca~,
t~elr sCientific c~aracter, are increa~ingly important a" the rcquisttes fo~ m~stertng. moods. Psychologically, this paves the way
for the Incvltable VictOry of the progressive forccs, for thc making of moods and of the actions of the mas~es is ultimatelv a
contest between the indisputable scientific truth and thc rcf~ta
ble untruth.
A mood un ites people into a consensus, a "we", but it is also
associated with an imaginary ideal "we". People say to themselves, as it were, that they live in an "alien" or " foreign"
world. Mass movements against the existing ordcr contained
utopia n c1emcnts. Peoplc looked for thcir true "we" in the
remote pa"t, in carly Christianity, in thc "Goldcn A~e", etc. Or
th ey espied the gcnuine "we" in our time, on some unknown
isb nd or among the unspoilt savages. Also, the genuine "wc"
was seen "omcwherc in the future, thi" being thc most rcalistic
and often the most efFcctive form of day-dreaming. In the past
people embarked on reforms and revolution" with utopian idea"
about an unclouded univcrsal bliss. Bitter was their di~appoint
ment when thcy learned that life was full of contradiction" and
that some "they" still existed. But utopian idca" graduallv gave
place to rational scientific thinking. Yet its impact on the mood
of the mas~cs did not diminish; on thc contrary, it ha" increa~cd .
H owever. mood i~ subjcct to the influence of consciousness,
not as much to the spherc of thought as of emotion.
Emotions and scnsations arc either plca"ant or unpleasant.
They arc like an electric charp:e. eithcr pos itive or nc.c;ativc. On
t he face of it. it was nature t hat bestowed thi" division of sensations on an imals and humans. In fact. the similarity of human
and a ni ma l emotio ns is but external; physio logy has vct to prove
that t he state of emot ional cxcitation in animals m;ly be
describcd in terms of pleasure and displeasure.
..
True, many scientists. including the Soyiet phVSIO\Op:ISt';
P. K. Anokhin and P. V. Simonov, tried to produce. a ~urclr
physiological thcory of plcasure :tnd displ easll~e. Their d,sco\~.
cries in the physiological substratum of cmotlons \~'cre m:ln~ .
They fou nd that certa.in emotion" corre~pondcd to spcclfi~.ch:ln;~cs
in the subcortical scctions of the br:llll and the phYSiological
snterns of the hour. But the~ tonk it for ~f;lntcd th;lt cmot\4ns
\~'crc nc(css~rily ;l '\cs" or a "no", good or b,ttl, ph::a~;Ult or
iOJ

102

unpleasant. An experiment. made at ;tbllut the same time, whi l:!~

seemingly demonstrated the prcscnl:e of a "centre o~ plc;l"u re
in the animal brain (and consequently centre of dlspl eolSure),
added weight to that theory. An electrode connected to a p~)\\" er
source was introduced into the brain of a rat; the r.1t could Itsel f
switch it on and off. Surprisingly. the rolt energised. the electric
stimulator. although it did not signal any biologIcally usefu l
factors. It was inferred therefrom that the stimulus was one of
gratification; in other words, the current excited the ra~'s ':cc ntrc of plcasure". A more likely explanation is that electrt~ stIm ulation caused a hallucinatory gratification of some requIrement.
As it was illusory and caused no physiolog ical after-effects, the
animal resorted to it again and again, ad infinitum. In short, the
physiological analysis of emotions was corrcct, except for the
binary division, i.e., the introduction of evaluations attributing
positivc and negati,'c values. That was a projection by the
researcher of his own human psychics.
In humans these positive and negative stimuli stem not from
opposite biological, vegetative, vascular or endocrinal antagoni stic
changes in the organism. Nothing of the kind. Onc may trcmbl c
from joy, anger or fear. Onc may perspire from horror, shyness
or fear. Laughter may not necessarily be e\'oked by a funn y
situation; it may be the expression of satisfaction or of a painful
or distressing statc. A great many diffcrent experiences ma y cause
one to blush or pale. Tears express pain, jo)" compassion ; emotions do not necessarily evoke tears. As Academician K. M. Bykov picturesquely put it, "sorrow not expressed by tears makes
other organs weep" . This means that an emotion may manifest
itself in remote, mediate physiological circuits. causing reactions
of pain in internal organs and systems.
As we see, positive and negative emotions arc not directl y
related to their physiological mechan ism. How, then, to di scern
their opposition? Actions arc no criteria, for a person can volu w
tarily submit to pain (a definitely negativc sensation) and cxpe

nence a positive sensatIOn from it. Does this mean on ly that

huma~s arc capable of subordinating pleasant and unpleasant
sensations to lofty motives? No, for the nature of the sensations c~anges. This holds true of animals as well. A dog may
be tral.ned. t~ respond positively to pain (e.g., an electri c
shock) If t.hl_s IS backed by a positive action, such as feeding ; it
SUbmits willtn~y to pain in that case_ A prominent French surgcon and a wnter on the problem of pain, finally rejected his

Ilw n !)r~lp4)sil 1111 ~nd all Cllrrnt thCII CS, for none sue :::kd IR
d c,nlimll-: nnd co,cring du' wh,lc r' nge of fact J t nOI a
pennn may sdf-innic t 1 snar""r pain to alleviatt the one he
f; ufferi nf.:.
PIc.:;\~lIre clnd di~pkasure arc nl t nh)' iological concepts, In
hUI11;.\ ns their origin is complexly p,>}"cho-tdeational; mort: spe:i
fi cally, it i-.; the effect of fulfilment or failure in attaining goa\:.;
idea ls and desires. What is happines~? Psychologically it i-.; a
w incidenu.: of accomplishments and aspirations. Happiness is of
the h ighest oroer, joy considerably lower, but also cxpressm: of
correspondence between the reality and thc dream, thc hopc, or
aspiration. Pleasure is a still lower ordcr, thc goal being more
vague, t ho ugh in essence it is basically the same. Therdore, the
matter is rooted in designs, ideals, aims. drcams, which arc
a nticipated but as yet non-existent sensations. And in their
absence no "pleasant" feelings of emotions arc concci\able.
T his places the question on a different plane-from the plane
of indiv idual psychology to social psychology, which is deeper.
P leasure corresponds to a "we" (existent or potential:' ,\"hile
di splea'\ure is representati"e of a "they". The idea of family
bliss, of comfort, happiness, joy, friendship, solidarity, mutual
a id, as well as intellectual and aesthetic gratification bdong to
a n imaginary "we", to an aggregate of traits ~h.aract:ri.stic. of
a "we" group; they are related to common traditIOn, .Iml~atl~n,
examp le, precedent, recollection. An unpleasant sen<;atlon IS diSagreeable-as though a person is affected by a "they". When we
bruise ourseh-es, we mutter curses at someone unknown: the
child looks fo r someone to blame for the pain it suffers; a .sava~e
is sure to ascribe sickness, death or poor hunting to. the III WIll
of some "they", imagini~g some remote in~uen~.:, I.e., s~rcery:
A savage cons iders certam occurrences as the) . sorce), the~
are negati\Tc causi ng trouble and displeasure. It IS not the oc~urrences th;t arc "alien" because unpleas;.lOt, but unpleasant
because " a lien".
11 d .
Natu rally t hese occurrences arc not only what actua y Istlnn I
:. ~' from "the,,": thcy are also that which upsets ~hc
UI
S
n
les we
.
. f
0 grief
" we". The d cath of a relative is. a mts ortunc, sorrow an
.
" ..
It d estroys the most direct we tics .
..
. . . . .
holo",' upscts thc ;1ccepted p~"[amld. Ordll~.lft h, 01
50 ci.11 pwc

1"'.

J
. .. ..
t on Its ha)'c
co Ie's minds the pymnud stan s on lb .lpex, no . .
rhe ~'I' ; thc i nd ividu~1. clas'\es his feelings and emot.lIlO" In. ~W(l
groups. 'Scientific ana lysis, how(;,cr, shows that thcn; I)' nl) dlLilO105

104

...,., of comfoot and discomfort, pleasure and displeas ure outaide the ''we'' and "they" conceptS. This unexpected tu rn taxes
.bauact thinking. But it answers Ivan .Pavlovs wi~h. "t~ look
beneath the facts". The socia-psychological contradistinction of
"we'" and '"they" can penetrate deeply into individual psychics
and become its essence.
Therefore, it is time to consider an individual or a personal-

Ity hom the standpoint 01 social psychology.

But first let us conclude that section of social psychology to

which the present chapter is devoted.
Is psychic make-up stable at a given moment, a nd if so, w hich
kind is? Or do the more dynamic moods prevail? If so what
kind of moods? This depends on historical conditions a nd not
on arbitrary will or accident. Objective processes of socia-historical development give rise to corresponding activity a mong
men. Some historical forces have a stake in checking imm inent
changes, others strive to hasten them; the focmer favouc customs, traditions, continuity of generations, while the latter assist
in arousing moods, particularly those of discontent. In other
words, the science of social psychology looks fo e the root cause
of both psychic make-up and mood, of relative fixity a nd mobility (sometimes impetuous mobility) , of the psychic state of
peoples. msSles and collectives. in the deep-lying histo rical and
lOciologica1 patterns.
We are operating with generalisations that apply to d ifferent
realities and to different circumstances in space and time. T he
socio-psychic phenomena and consistent patterns we have consi d ered-contagiosity and negativism, relations between " we" a nd
"they" groups, the interaction of individuals with the " we",
. table psychic make-up, negation or destruction of some aspcct
of the customary way of life and psychics, the rise and fa ll of
socia) paychic activity-may all play not only different but even
oppotite roles under various concrete conditions oc in diffecc nt
biatorical situations. Thus, despite the dogmas of bourgeo is social
..,chokcY, buman environment may pcompt not base actio ns
Depending on concrete social circumstances, one and the
"'De psydlologica l mechanism may produce trends either posiei.c 01' Mptive. unreasonable or wise and useful to society.
Lmia'. mliterly eva luation of psychic phenomena in social
~ and revolutionary struggles is what prompts psychol. . . . to turn to historicism.

0lIl.,..

106

] n a MIddy MlIIH.:: sections of the population exert a stabilis,

ing 'lCtion, while others undermine it. What systems, tradition)
or establishments arc the object of thesc stabili~ing or undermining activities, i.e . what action.. are progressivc or reactionar~'1
alway~ depends on concrete historical and social condition~.
Only a deep undcrstandinJ..: of historical laws, of the objective
causes of mobility and stability, provides firm ground for the
science of social psychology both with regard to past and modcrn

wncs.
1. YOU

We dctached the "we" and "thcr" catcgories from concretc

socia-h istorical conditions. Although we took cxamplcs from
contemporary lifc, howc\'cr, th~sc t\vo catcg~rics cxistcd ~n a
pure state only at thc dawn of history, Lat,er times, knew nClth~r
pu re "they" nor pure "wc" groups. In pnmcval tlmcs ,thc attitude towards the "they" groups was clca~l). a n~;'~,lt~~C onc:
avoidance, isolation, even slaying. Charactcns~1C of wc. groups
was association with onc's own like, imitatl\'~ beha\'lour and
collcctivc industry, In rcality, however, as time went on th~
two catcgori.:s imposed limitations on ea~h other. Hence, an~
theoretical analysis of the subject of, socl~1 psych~lO~ ~~ou~~
also make its ncxt logical step: the dJalc~t1cs of t c . w~u:ual
"thcy" relation lcads us to the qucsUon of thcl(

pcnct r.ulon.
, 11
' 0 cd
Picture "thcy" :lnd "wc" groups as partla y supcrtmp S
circles. Thc superimposed areas come under rhe head of thc
" you" catcgory.
f l'cnation
The constitute a sphcre of intercourse, not 0 a,l ' . "
" You} is not "we" foc it is extraneous; at the same tlmC, I,t IS
,
.,
"I~ (cpl"ccd
b)' mutu:lI attr:lctlon.
"1 " fo' opposition
.
not a t lCy.
(
.k
,I d cmcnt that "thcy" oroups arc
"You" is in a waY an :~:n~~\ '~bl~ of partially formi~~ a ncw
no longer absolutc. bCI n p',
b'
' d cOnll)lcx "we"
,
' h " , ""'roups I c a Iggcr an
,
com munity Wit
we t'>
."
"d' ,'d d . to "we" ,lnd '\ou'
.
" " "roup IS sub 1\ 1 C In
'
group. 11115 new we e"
'n "you" to the other. In other
groups, each of thc mcn~bcrhs bCl ~ "stf;wgcrs" ("they") and at
words, each group secs 10 teat her.
,
... ) ... 'ou" to '-111 women, anJ vicC' ve~sa;
o nce "own f() Ik"- (" we,'
For example, all tllt,;l~ ,1ft: )
I " 'c n!r"l' Llmilies or n(,l,gh"
,. t clulJren 'lilt \ IL
' ,
f' ' .
ad ults arc you ~
" visits, hold (omillon estl\lt1C~,
bouring tribes, whu:h cxchangc
107

ceremonies. mi~r<ltions. arc ;,Iso "'IIU" til c.u.h otlll:r Phr.ltril's

held a similiU status in the an(icnt tllI.ll tfih\!s.
Our logical progress from "we" and "thc.:y' to "you" h:;\\'f,.'s
us in the plural. Historicall\', this applics ttl ;'\ dist.ult P;lSt and
nco if the catcgon "you" brings liS ;l\.:rOSS thc thn:shold of his,
torr. we arc Hill no ne.:'lrer than the Cnl-;\L1~n{)n period. Th e
new psychic mcdwnism, which then Cline into bt'ing, inhibited
the two earlier mc(hanisms. As time went by, the '\ou" cxpcllltkd.
becolme more complex and ridler.
Yet logically the "rou" was no more th.m transitional until it
g,wc birth to subsequent ones. \Vc must not dwell too long on
the pu~c )?U", for wc arc prompted at this intersection to pass
t~l the l~dlndual as a next stage in the socio-p!)~'chologicnl analySIS (to hft the curtnin somcwhnt. the next stage will be "he" as
represented by the tangenc point of the "we" and "they" circles
when the latter arc again drawn apart to the point of 'minimum
contact).
\Y/e disco\'crcd on entcring the "you" field that even' person
belongs to two psychic communities at once-to two "we'; groups.
~rom now ,on e\'ery person is a personality, a point of intersechan of ya[Jo~s communities: Among other things he or she must
conceal or Withhold somethmg now from one and now from the
oth~r group, and "inner" life divorces itself from the "external '.
However, logically and historically this point is still far awa)'
from "I",
<
The '\.ou" concept '
IS b
a ri dge for us from Chapter II to
Chapter III.

(' " ([ /" rr II I

COMMUNITY AND THE INDIVIDUAL

1. INTERCOURSE AND IDENTITY

Some sociologist" may comider this ch.lpter unneCL.,~ary 'rhey

may hold that socia-psychic phenomena arc thc subject of
sci<.:ntific study not because of inte[cour~e b<.:tween individuals,
but bccausc individuals live in similar social condition~, producing a more or less similar psychics, In other words. independ e ntly of the will or choice of indi\iduals social being determines an identical consciousness ba5ed on a similarity of ceo
nomic conditions and consisting uf a) psycholo~\', i.e,. a more
direct and matter-of fact reflection of being less dependent on
intcrcourse; b) ideology. which is a more sntematic reflection of
being and, therefore, more dependenc on social incercour.;e.
Nonc will deny that people maintain relations with each
other, particulari):peoplc of the same class or strarum. But in the
opinion of some ~ociologists, social psychology would not Wi1~t
in subject matter eycn if we wcre to abstract ourselves from th.!'>
intercourse. Moreo,'cr, the subiect matter would be more. m
keep ing with thc basic concept: pt.!o~1c \\:ould d,ispby s~n:dar
traits of consciousness if livin~ under Identical SOCial conditIOns.
This thcy define ns tfue social psycholo~y.
.
'
Thc exponents of this kind of SOCIology CltC dHc~y-an~ n~t
nccidentnlh-thc example of a small-holdin~ pC<l~Jn,t In ~apl~altst
society, witO may h::we very little interch,lnge w'~h hIS likes;
. cOOtI"
~ him rcpn:.;cn'
howCH;r, the gencral economic
ICLonS rna.kc
..
.. ,
ta ti,.c of a certain class and social group, t~e stn~I.I.;ln~y ~~ !t,mg
b .
. I bl, rellected III ill'; con~l:iOU~neSS,
.
concImoIlS c tng un;"lVOlC a .
.
.-' J .. ' I 'r '
This train of thought applies to the pcasan,t s In 1\ 'I~ ~.l 'T"h'~
.
I
.. ,fi 311\' coanlscd rca In.
c
illu Slllll S r;\thcr t lan to a socn I e .
,?',
d': I
.
. Id I aces
f ' the oblcctl\c
~iru.:uion in wlueh an IIlC 1\"1 U;l
, .con mon, . 0
'. .
"
"
R b' sonade. TillS IIltcrprctation
IllS eCl)llOnllC bC:ln~ alonc I~:l 0 10:
"
If th:lt it blh .. hort
of "routinc" consCIousness IS so ro~tLnc ,~{se., .
of the mnd c:rn Icnl of the psychologiC.11 ,uenl..e,

109

The sphere of analysis in social psyc.hology cm:ers

statjsti~al

aeries, or phenomena that may ~ con~ldercd subl en to ~tatIS

tical patterns. In that case the investigator abstr;!ct'; Ill lllself
hom the mechanisms and records the results only. Th e method
of opinion polls, questionnaires and tests as~ertai~s t~e ~res~nce
in a given environment of partku!ar psychIC t~a1ts: mel,matlOns
or moods, the investigator operatlDg solely With Identity, not
intercoune or community. How this identity originates docs not
interest the researcher; he records it as an empirical fact, though
more frequently he correlates that fact with some other similar
generalised statistical data-socio-economic, educational or cultural. A functional relationship is thus revealed between the two
aeries. Generally, these investigations give no information as to
the nature and mechanism of psychic processes, and none is
required of them. For all this, their practical usefulness is at
times undeniable. Experience in statistical study of public opiniOD, including its ideological and psychological components, is
generally of great value. This falls into the sphere of so-called
social investigations or concrete sociology. Opinion polis, questionnaires and tests help obtain an idea of the family budgets
of varioUi strata of the population, their time budget, preferenccs as to the modes of public transport, or the incidence of
various diseases. It is readily seen, however, that only part of
these statistical series and mean statistical generalisations ha s
any reference to social psychology. And even that part, too, applies to psychic results rather than the mechanisms that produced

them"
However, if social psychology is to be an efficacious science,
we should thoroughly study the mechanisms govcrning the formation of singularities in the human psychics in a given social
environment. Scientific progress, particularly over the past century. reveals the harm of ignoring the underlying mechanisms
of various laws. In biology, those opposing study of the physical
aod chemical mechanisms behind biological phenomena, which
they considered "reduction" of biology to lower forms of motion
matter. ,!ere absolutely wrong. Actually, traits specific to
biology are 10 no way trespassed Or restricted by the knowlcdac of physical and chemical processes in living matter Jusc
as .1R)'I'!,dlcss is ~e fear that social psychology may r~place
G
lQCioI ,,, Jaw. With physiological and psychological ones. Social
fI,rt.olDIY doe. DOt encroach on the objective mechanisms of
'OCWr ef"(lIOOJDjc life. It studies mechanisms of psychic interaction

o!

110

hctwcen people whose behaviour, in the final analysl~, j .., deter,

mined by the anion of s(jciologicallaws.
W/c should overlook n()t only thc psycholo,gical, hut ahn
the social mechanism, provided we took for granted that
identical socin-psychic traits in a series of people arc due to
similar causes and that social intcrchange has nothing to do
with it,
Of course, such serics exist, We already know that suicide is,
in some respects, a psychic act, It can be studied by means of
statistical methods, assuming, generally with good rcason, that
suicides neither had intercourse with each other nor formed a
community, but committed suicide due to morc or less likc
cnuses, However, even this extreme example is not entirely
valid, for a lthough mutual contagion should not be held ~s
one of the determining causes of suicide, a self-murderer IS
partiy guided by the knowledge of similar cases, becaus~ ~cr
tain periods arc marked by a real ps!'chi~ ~arc-up of SU,ICI?eS
initiated to the greater degrce by the mCSlStlbJe force of lmlta"
tlOn,
In other cases, the series of identical socio-psychic phenomena
arc, as a rule, not mutually indepen?en,t, ~encrall~', howe\'cr,
they form not a simultaneous ,but cham-like mteractlOn, s~r:ad.
ing over a certain span of time, As we: ha\'e not,cd, ,anous
elements of the social mood evol\'e m a, cham pattern,
which does not make it any the less mtcrpretablc as
" "
a I~v~u~ soc io-psychic community may be classed in four typ~s,
I, A directly observable community is, o~ coursc, one I~
which all its mcmbers know each othcr, or, m the casc of
crowd auditorium or a concert hall, at least sec and hear cae
other 'These are the type of community that attracts the ?ou~
eois'social psycho logist, Actual~y, ho~c\'er, ~uch c~mmu,n1o/, ~~
g
d '
t S the bourgeois myestlgator either a:-; a pnnlltl\
rare, an mterhcs d c or as a poorly organised and amorphous
commune or or ' , <
,
' t study
k
blage and mob From the contemporary \'1ewpOIfl f"
assem

'
d'
or personnel 0 wor'of communities such as, pro, u~~~nIT't~~mfmportant, Villages and
,,11 and so the classes
shops o r small enterpnses IS , h"d
"f
elder thiS ea as \\C ,
f
collective arms com U\,
"
_ Reducing the scope 0
in school and groups lfl a h':l0!\,erdsm" "(llOWen!r 'useful it may
"
1
1
I
ma'nly
to
t
1S 010 C1
fcr t hc
SOCia psyc 10 ogy
I
,
'I s -chologists to'prc
be) has prompted bourgeOis s~C1a i!a~y such as bmih-, group
,
smallest groups, wrongly tecme pr

III

of friends or short gatherings of people in ;1 q ue ll e, street, tram ,

etc.
Take the opposite model of commun ity: most of its ffit:Ill '
bees do not know each other, arc not directl y nss()c iatcd. hut
arc con!ocio1l5 of belonging to the community inso fa r as th..:)"
possess a common pi\'ot, personifying the giv en "we", be it a
l .

government, party. ideologist, leader, chid, autho rity or a group

of leaders. This is a far more important model, es pecially if it
is a class or nation, in which case the number of people personally acquainted or directly associated with each other is negligible as compared to the aggregate. Needless to say, it reflects
only one aspect of life. But we would do welt to (emember that
this type of "centralised" socia-psychic interconnectio n without

direct personal contacts by all is possihle and corresponds t3 a

definite reality.
5 A community may exist only in time, /lot in space, such
as a mood passed on from person to person. In the a bstract case
it spreads not fan-wise but along a chain , whi ch is, as we have
said, characteristic in the extreme case of the " we" called
mood.
4 The gap between thcse threc types is actually closed in li fe
not only by transitional and mixed forms, but al so by a cquaintanceship, a small group of people interacting directly with in t he
limits. of a la~ge co~munity. The sociology and psychology of
acquamtanceshlp merits close study. Among other things, this
applics to ccremonies and the norms of the fir st acquaintanccshlp- ~hrough the ~cdiation of a third pe rson- giving one's namc,
touchmg (hands, hps, nose), "inhalation of thc odour " a mong
so~e pcoplcs, norms and customs for cultivating acquainta nceship by mutual visit~, cntcrta~nment, gift-making, ctc. AI! these
belong to thc acquamtanccshlp catcgory. It is the channel s of
acquai~ta~ces~ip that oftcn account for "identity" of opin io n,
taste, IOchnatlon and othcr psychic traits. Lct us go back to the
cxa.rnpie of .the pca.sants or farmers in contcmporary capitali st
SOCiety. It I S ccrtaml), true that similar economic conditio ns
explain similar tendencies in psychology and idcology. Hm.vc\'er,
the law does not apply to each peasant se parately. Eve n bi rds
learn to fh: from cach other, not by themselves. Th e peasa nt
~sych~logy IS shaped. by.mutu a l vi sits, acquaintanccships, fc stivi tl~S. nte~ and .s~chl~ kc mtercourse. For isolated fa rmers, living
With t.helr famIlies m remotc locations, thc psychological effect
of their ra rc mutual vi sits i~ nil the greater. Vi siting is an es11 2

sent ia l concept, one without which the vascular !>;ystcm of Silcio'

ps~'(hic intercoune wOlild bc inconceivable. It is the vehicle of
(nntilgion. T h;H i~ wh), a p:i)(hologist is usually wrong, tll infer
ilo ne hut "identi(al" psychic phenOmeni.l. I Ie ~imply doc .. not
see that mudl is transmitted and f')rmeJ through inten:hangc
a nd pe rsonal contacts between people of the "same cirde", as
a rule of the same class, stratum, profession, age, possibly sex,
religion, political school and nation.
This bridges the imaginary gap between homogeneou~ and
heterogeneous socio-psychic phenomcna, shaped by intercourse or
a n idcntical statc, i.e. , by the affiliation of each to the sa~e
o bj ectivc socia l catcgory. The above four t~pes of communtty
show that cvcn in a large objectivc commuOlty, such a~ a cla~s
or a nation, the social psychology is bred only by mutual commun ication.
That leaves one more pitfall for those who think that the only
conceivable psychology is that of the individual. Tca.chers tCSt ify and investigations confi rm that e:e.r), group of .chlldten has
a common favourite. And quite often It IS not the child promoted
to the capacity of unit leader, prefect. or the like. Th:re y~u
a re, expo nents of a purely individual method of teaSOlllng ~III
say a girl or boy is attracti\'e and becomes the group darl.mg.
oth~rs lack his o r her qualities and do nOt bec~me favoumes.
He nce, the personality lies at the root of e\crythtng. Th~re )ou
a re , a nswers the supporter of social psychol~g't" favour~tes arc
singled out in every group of children. If thiS boyar girl gocs
away, a nothcr is bou nd to take his or her place ~ooner ~r later:
showing that the given phenomenon of col1~.~tne psycholo~)
is mo re or less immutable. There arc conSLSt~nt pattern s In
which ind ividua ls cha nge while systems or senes of people
,

rc mall1.
k
h' d
f tatisW e a rc compelled, thcrefore, to go bac". to tel ea as, '.
.
f
d ifferent point of \'lew. In contemporaq
..
bability laws is so vastly
tical laws, but com a
science the conccpt of statistiCal, o r pro
,
,!tord
important that no historian studying mas " Phhccn"o,~~~n.~s c:~ ~"gre,
h
H
no longer (co-ard
.. ,,~..,..
to Ig nore t ern ... e can. . "
e\':'en if hc takes into ;lC(Qunt
gate of personaittles or IIldn Iduals . d H,'stori"ln..; neetl knowl'
f
I', predecermlHe .
' .
.
I
that thc ps)'c ltCS 0 eac 1 I~
'hich indi"iduals are largely I~t~r
edgc a bout the patterns In "
.
he cl,',ef traits of i11UI\'IU
ttern
dcternllne
t
. . . .
cha ngea b Ie. T IlCSC p a : .
.. . for the tiis"imli;lrIty or
' h'c~
ua I psyc
I .~ , and cven
. . the llecesslt\
uniq uc ness of pe rso nalities.
8 - UJ711

113

1. CAM A PERSONALITY EXIST OUTSIDE SOCIETY I

own dec":
n~l thouj hu.
Ill" l:uhcr se s tht: "we ~r IUp to whi(;h he r..:fer hina",:1f n(,
horror-stricken, dl~COYCs a ';th:y" group No personality exists
out of the context of thi~ orp. _it,1 n of sclf to ~omethill~ dis
similar or to images ()f some human community. What L then
prinury?
The following example may help crplain two possio!e ap'
proaches to thi~ problem: ;\Iarx'J: observation that inter(Our~e
and competition between workers in a textik: mil~ adds to ~helr
energy and individual capacity admits of two Interp(et~tLo.n'i,
One psychologist will say that this generates ncrvou~ cxCltatlOn
raising the workcr's productivity abovc his usual Icv~1. The
othcr, drawing on an explanation suggested by :\larx, wdl arg~c
that man is inherently a social animal and that the contact In
joint labour enlarges the individual capacity ~implr because
:lbsence of contact deprcsscs it below the worker s natura.1 l:,"cl.
Psychological science is in no position as yet to. com~lt It~c1f
on this controversial issue. But some of the notions hlndenn~
fruitful investigation can now be eliminated on reliable factual
evidence.
I t has long been a matter of speculation whether a human
being entirely cut off from bi~h from o~her humans would de~
velop speech, a mind and various faculties, ~nd whether. ~ .n~r
mally developed human isolated o~ a desert Isla~~ or el,c\\hcre
would retain, or eyen de\-elop, hiS human qualitlcs.
..
The propaedcutic of social psychology should necessanly 1Ilclude the facts that proyide empirical answers to the 3hovc

or imagin;Hv the floC 'Ion

As we have noted in the Introduction it is ~tlil dcbatabk

whether or not psychical interaction by persons of a communit}
is secondary and subordinated to the psychic of each individual.
Might we add that the terms "psychology of the indi vidual"
or "general psychology" do not, as we see it, imply extra-social
psychics of any kind. In a broader sensc, any scientific psychology
is social psychology, because the psychic of a person is largely
conditioned by the socio-historical environment. It is highly
doubtful, if this is disregarded, whether one could pinpoint anything at all, save a description of the brain, its gcneral functions and the types of nervous system.
Our recognition of the fact that "we" and "they" group
relationships are deeper and primary to those of "I" and "rou"
brings us somewhat closer to the answer to the above d ebatable
question. The dyadic relation of "I" and "you", etc., is no
element in the social make-up of psychics; it is much rather its
essence. Even in laboratory research the subject is exposed to
social pressure, because his relative isolation is preceded by the
experimenter's instructions and the experiment itself includes
some kind of signals from the investigator. As we probe deeper
into the mind absorbed in thought, we descend into a crater
seething with social forces and the influences of different communities. As noted, even the simplest division of sensations into
pleasant and unpleasant is related not only with individual
physiology, but also with the "we and they", the "ours and
theirs" principle.
It is true that peoplc differ in temperament character and
type of. higher nervous activity, which are not' given them by
the socIety but rather govern. the part people play in society.
But that, too, does not dctermlOe the personality. By and large
the human pcrsonality is formed along patterns laid by the per~
~on for himsclf in ~he COurse of development. Always present
~n human :ieJf-consclO~sness and, self-eval~ation is the compar~son of oneself. to one s mental Image, adJusting oneself to the
~mag~ and t~c lmage to oneself. The person and the pattern are
lOvana.bly dl~erent, but often adapt themselves rather than
otherwl~e, fit~lOg the personalit~ to the pattern, this creative
,?nceptJon beIng of the utmost Importance. Without self-evaluation, as long as the question "Who am I?" is not asked
0
personality exists. The self is aligned against somebody else,' r:''\1
II.

SUI

""f

hi~

questions.
. elL"
"
In the 18th century the eminent n:ltutahst ar~ us ~nnileus,
the fi rs t to class humans (Homo sapiem) in the antmal kingdom,
~ingled out as a spccies the "wild nun" (Hom.o /ems) :lS exe~llified by the then known few insf<lnce~. of chIldren broug.ht. p
hy w ild animals. Although Linnaeus did not concern. ht~self
with the essence of the leap from .animal to h~m:ln. h~~ lntr~\~
duction of Homo ferus set the question almost ~olntbb~k'lAf ~e
" tie
1 'I"ddl
Acres B)' Lmn:leus
etlmeI
cases were known III
l' I e , " , ..
. .s .I .
their nu mber grew consider.lbly, and ,~ol~le WC(~, ~~ .. ~n~ .:~~
bid\" authentic. He concluded th3t a \\,I~d nun
.l~ t.: 'J
f~cuit}" of speech :lnd had no hum:ln conSClomneSS,:ln mo\ (.:
about on all fours.
..
f I 11 ' n ("cd
S;WC:l few det;lils, Linnaeus's deSCription 0 c \I \ rcn u,.
by allim;l l ~ W,IS gencr;IIl~' correct, :lnti bter corrol'l()r.w.:d b~ ne\\

,.

115

finds. although each was a rarity-an invaluable experiment m;l{k

by nature and a strange concurrence of cirulIlht.1I1tt'S.
To date, known cases add up to o\'el" thin,-, Ih e 1Ol l\t n:":CIll
one dating to 1956.1
In all the known authentic cases the " kidn.'1pcr.,, " ;lnt! "tll tor:-."
were wild animals, mostly wolves, and in a few cases bea rs
and even a leopard. Press reports of children born e ;lwa~' nnd
brought 'up by monkeys, proved false. The Tarzan storr, thcrc~
fore. has no biological corroboration, whercas Rudyard Ki pling's
story of Maugti, though refracted through a literary pri sm, has
its origin in tales known to the people of India.
But why predatory animals only? For this there is a biological
basis: losing its young for some reason, a femalc that carried off
a child for food (Indian women often leave their infants a t the

edge of the forest when doing 6eld work) , succumbs to its

maternal instinct. It gives milk to the baby, then repeats the
procedure and protects the "adopted" child as its own. T he
decisive factor, however, is that wild animals feed their youn a
wi~h meat after the suckling period. This instinct o f pred ator~
ammals-the " foster parents"-saved the life of many an abducted
child. By virtue of the adaptability of its human brain the chil d
learned the cries and actions eliciting desired responses in ani~
mals, compelling them to feed it over the space of two, three
or more years.
No case is known of these "boarders" ever living in the d en
or pack to adult a~e. Yet they hung on to their " foster parents"
for several generatIOns of natural oHspring-"step-hrothers" and
" step-sisters",
<
Why did they move about on all fours? Chiefly, we think ,
because by trial and error they learned that the quadrupedal
pOsture was the most acceptable to their predatory "breadwinner", The erect posture might have evoked the latter's defensive
re~ex and weakened the feeding reflex, Besides, we teach our
ch~ldren to walk at ~ certain age, their anatomy and physiology
being adaptable to bipedal locomotion on condition that demo nstration and instruction ace employed at the right time.
The nervous ~ys~m of the miraculously surviving childre n
showed an a stonlshlOg degree of adaptability to the unu sual

, For the latcst l in tee L ucien Mal son. a French socia l

s nt/.nts ulffMgn : mYfbe ef rClllifl:. Paris, 19(,-4.

116

p~ych()logi~t\

l1;ltur,l! en\ il"fl1l1llent Po""ih!v, they owed this to instintt" inherit

cd from alltient hom;lIidtJc that livcd among animal .. 'lilt! latent

in normal humiut dcn:lopmcnt. Whatcvcr thc case, the invisiblc,

unconscious hut powerful functions of the ncrvc tissue) of the
human bmin kept them alive frJr many ycars.
A sorry sight thcy wcre, howcvcr, when hunters dislrl\crcd
them in the dens of killcd bemts!
In the Cachar mountains in india, villagers killed two (lIh,
in thc den of a leopard. Two days latcr thc shc-Ieopard bore
away a two-year-old boy from thcir village. Thrce ycars pas5cd.
In 1923 huntcrs killcd thc shc-leopard and found in her lair,
beside its you ng, a fivc-ycar old boy, He movcd about on all
fours and provcd quite at homc in thc jungle. The ~kin on the
pa lms of his hands and knees had thickened, whilc his tocs
werc almost at right angles to the solcs. His body was covered
with scars and ~cratches. Hc pounced upon a hcn, torc it to
pieccs and dcvoured it in extraordinary haste. Graduall~:,. he
g rcw accustomcd to the human environmc?t and sto~pcd bltln~.
In thrce years the boy learncd to walk upnght but stili preferrcd
to movc about on his fours. He learned to cat \"C~e[3blc fond,
but some incurable eyc disease, culminating in blindness, hindered his "humanisation", He dicd shortly aftcr.
Among thc best known cases is the disco.,-cr)" in I~ZO i.n India
o f two g irls among a litter of wolf cubs In a wolf s lair. One
g irl was scvcn or cight, thc other about tWO years old. Scnt to
a n orphanage, the}' moved about ~ike quadrupcds, a~d only. at
night. D li ring the day thc)' slept In a corncr, cuddlLng ag.lJnst
cach other like cllbs, and obviously prefcrred thc company. of
d og cubs to that o f human playmates. At night thcy howlcd likc
wolvcs, a nd made several attempts to flee to the junglc,. Tcachers
endeavoured to "humanise" thcm. but the, youngcr. gIrl, ca\lc~1
Amala , d ied a ycar later. The cldcr one, Kamala, lived nn~thcr
nine ycars. It took almost /iye years to teach her to walk uPfl~~ht.
Slowl y she learned to u nderstand human spcech and spcak. It
:\p pca r~d that all rhc rcsources of hcr b~ain had becn .sp.ent .~n
a d apti ng to :\n altogethcr different ennronmcnt. At ~c\ cnt~cn
her mental de,-clopment was that of a four-year-old c~lld.
A similar condition ,,...\S obsernd ill othcr savcd ch~ldrcn ..
A boy, believed to have lived six or ;~e\cn ycars In ~ w.oI:
p:\ck, was d iscovcrcd in the Indi"~l jungle In t<)~6, Ahhou~~knll:~
. I' I,c WlS mcncalh a mne-months-old bln. LUl no
)..
'
.
Ik-lOg upn,g
. h t amI sI,.,\\-cd
e.us () u,
....,
ncd
bCnlll
wa
R am u, as IIe \,.1" n. I
,
.-.'
117

\\
I

signs of regaining command of hili wrists ami ,wh.lc", "fin fnur

years in a hospital under constant medica l G\rl.:. Gr;tdualh, he
accustomed himself to dealing with humans and the hum .ln diet.
giving up the habit of eating raw meat.
This throws light on the gulf between even ,\ hiJ.!hly dcn.:lupcd
animal and man. No matter how a human brain i~ nnatomicall}
superior and more complex than that of any animal. :\11 it pos
seases is a potentiality of speech and thought. It m:\Y be compared to a motor, which needs electric current to fun ction. This,
eliciting speech and consciousness, is a highly specific kind of
power-the human capacity for communication. without wh ich
rna.n is nothing but an animal, however well adapted to the

environment.
Now take the reverse case: can the human brain carrying this
"human" charge, lose that charge and degrade to animal level?
No, the facts show that "humanisation" is an irreversible
process,
There have been sensational reports in the press abo ut men
who lived for years in enforced or voluntary solitude, losi ng the
faculty of speech, consciousness, even human appearance. There
have been reports, too, that wearing no dothes, their bodies became covered with hair. These stories proved false, for invariably
they gave the name and other particulars of the "wi Id man "
t~is i~va1idating the claim of his losing speech and memory:
sIDee It was he who had communicated information on the
duration and circumstances which led to his isolation.
T~e ~dea . ~at a man may become completely "wild" is
~~ntific~ It IS deeply hostile to science, much like a superstltlOU' beltef. Man does not lose his speech or his thought faculty
for lack of interc:ourse with o~her humans . That may occur only
through p~tholog1~ malfunctions of the brain. Psychopathology
and psychiatry attnbute partial or complete loss of these funda mental deep-rooted human faculties to anatomic and physio logic
changes, much as dermatology and endocrinology attribute
ab,normalitie~ of the integument to natural agents . Medicin e
reJeo;'. the idea of such effects being produced by isolation ,
ascetICl5~ or any other unusual mode of life,
R ~Y. man does not flourish in isolation as did the fictional
a ,10600 CCUIOe; he then becomes coarser inside and out forpt' ...., :.a oy of tbe refinements of life. His speech may bdcome
poo,rer. !s menr:u powers will be concentrated on physical selfpre [hahoo or-If au ....
ehor"
,
.. of a
A&I
Ie-on lRtrospectlOn,
repetitIOn

Iotm:k of thoughts or on prayer In sum, he may lose a part of

his fJri~in;\1 ~piritu;ll potential, but never does he part with fill
of it. In this (Ontext, it is more important to underscore again
the authentic fact, dcml)n~trating the opposite. O,-cr the ccntu
ries tyrants threw rc,",)lutionaries. malcontents, rivals and traitors into dungconl for lifc or lon~ terms of strict isolation. Writ
ten sources contain not the dightest evidence of any of thcm
bein~ incapable of ~peech, of articulate sounds, of their bodies
~rowing; hair, althnugh, indeed, on release ther were bearded.
dishevelled, emaciated, sometimef blind or demented. There i~
written evidence to the contrary; of people pre~erving exalted
thoughts and feelings, and their spiritual charm during their
long solitary incarceration.
Insanity brought on by seclusion is a dislocation of mental ~~d
oral functions rather than a return to an animal state. The ability
to distinguish phonemes, both heard and spoken. to link the
phonetic form of a word with its inner form and sense, once
acquired by an individual brain, is ne\':r lost.
.
Thus criminals hiding from justICe, lepers Isolated from
society,' shipwrecked voyagers, lost tra\'ellers, prisoners in dungeons do not become "savages", as ignorant people wo~ld hav.c
us believe. If anything to that effect could be established. It
would be a revolution in science: social psycholo~y would be
irremediably destroyed, or, more broadly. th~ wh~le of. contemporary psychology would assum.e ~he opposite or~entauon.
That will never happen, though It IS beSt to .cxplalO t.he err~r
of thesc talcs of mcn becoming savag~ to the POlOt of l?stRg thel(
human appearance, hiding in mountalOs or forests, be It o\-er the
span of a single life or, in the case of couples, for sevcral gcn~
erations.
. k
h
That idea goes counter to Marxi5m. The Man.ls~ nows" t at
man is a "social animal" by nature, whilc thc ~otLon . of man
going savage", los ing speech, overgrown with hair, dCClves from
a hyperboli sed individualistic concept.ion of human. ~ature'dNho;
milieu'
an h'a
an .md'IVI'du a,I once he has
,. t"orown up Ifl a human.
been initiated in social intercourse. and ?ChaviOU(, carne~ IS
qualities with him as his essence. ThiS apphes :llso to cases " h~rc
he is fo rced to livc in complete isolation, away ~rom a co l1 eC~t'~e
or communit\". Marx wrote: "What is to be a\'ol~cd :l~~e.a IS
the re-establishment of Society as an abs.tractlo~ t:zs-a-t'I.s. th.e
ind ividuaL The indh-idual is tbt' social bem~. HIS hf.e, e\ en. ~
.
'n the direct form of a communal hfe (;.lfne
It may not appear I
119

118

out together with others-is thereforc .111 cxpn:s~inn ;wd (lin

firmation of sociallife."l
Now we have come closer in our quest to wh;\t is primMV,
social or individual psrcholo~y. True. thc abm'c is not the
solution. Our continuing search should build (In Mn n's famous
adage: "Man is literally a ~oon politikon. not only :l sociahle
animal, but an animal which can isolate itself only in a sOliefy.":.!

).. SOME INFORMATION ABOUT SPEECH AS A MEANS

OF .NTERCOURSE

The reader will recall that the preceding chapter began with
the question whether or not, generally speaking, social or collective psychology is conceivable at all, since the material
substratum of every psychic phenomenon is the functioning of
the brain of an individual, a brain enclosed in an individual
cranium. Let us look at this again.
Among infoanation conveyed from the outside world to the
human brain some is of so peculiar a nature that it seems to
explode this cranium. When a dog, cat, or horse hears an d
"understands" some human word, for the animal this word is
essen~ly the sam~ st.im~lus as any other of non-human origin.
The stgnal may be ID~lcatlve of food, pain, danger, and the like.
~ost of the human Signals, on the other hand, belong in a plane
different from that of other outside signals.
Therefore, social psychology cannot afford to ignore the
1~7er level .of human intercourse. The ways and means for
h.. mans to. tnfluenee each other are multiform and complex
and
' poI"IhcaI and ideological factors.'
Th' may
1 melude . economiC,
IS. ower ~evel IS the one without which men could not com~urucate With each o~her and which underlies all complex
i orms of hum~ reIatlons an~ i?teract.ions. It includes speech,
.e., oral ~ :"utten communiCation With the aid of linguistic
l!is~ mlnuccy aDd pantomime, external display of emotions
an \'AllOW other systems of signs.
A cursory examination will reveal that human sign
'
systems

srsJI
t

K. Man

D_

"1 I
p. 9'. ~onoml& 4IId Philosophic M,n.",,'p"
~
~"l 44, Moscow,
"F~ ' K. Man:. To tbe Crititpte 01 the PoliticQ( Economy (in Rmsian),
I.........,..... 't9. p. 19<1.
I ..7.

120

dilfc[ horn t!lnsc "",.th whIch O.lturc cldows lRlmal

~nd
hUllun i. or, lOon; yrc isely, whl..:h they arc able to ... th.. r from
1~,lturC. SCl.:n r~, mills lnglc. the com;entlonai term of cybernc:tiC
"information" nt y 'c=n somewhar anthmpomorphous, because
it !s horrowe.d from yral tic al iff" where it denotes a voluntary
alt of in format on transmitted '-::>m some.:>nc to someone. rather
than simple acqui~ition of kOI)wled~e, Tn eycrydny life we say
sensation, perception, observation, experience. But those arc
mere term>;, mere conventionalities. Human .. ign ~\lstems arc
intended for information in the narrow sense of the' word, i.e.,
as purposive action~ by a person on anl)thcr pcrwn.
To begin with, sign systems arc replaceable in principle a~
they do not belong to the signified object as its objective chnr.lcteristic. At present there are over tWO thousand languages and.
therefore, an equal number of equivalent and intcn:han.\;;cablc
signs to denote things, relatiom and notions . A tangual;e is laden
with synonyms or means of synonymic nature, enabling pcople
to denote an object by using different words. Proper names
may bc replaced by descriptive phrases. Ge~tures. mimicry,
expression of emotions may be rendered by words or othcr
com'entional mo,'emcnts.
Second, what the signs com'ey may be si~nified othe(\.\i~c;
intentional omission ma\" be as expressi,'c: silence a~ an answer
to a direct question a~d silence as a response to inducement
have two different meanings. The former case is a refmal to
communicate information, the laner a readiness to act ':"silencc
gi\'es consent"). A pause, tOO, may be highl,\" expressive; it
serves a definite psychophysiological purpose to the process o~
suggestion. Pauses, in bct, carry ~ sem~ntic load, much as
punctuation marks (i.e., pauses) In written speec~ . . H~n c~,
silence is not merely absence of speech; frequently, It IS IOhlbition or nullification of speech or e"en ami-spcech. Does not
the absence of an expected smile or wdcoming gesture Ci.\r r~
great expressi\"e power? Do we not attach i?,porcancc to the
fact that in a parti cular situation someone fads to show the
custOmary signs of shame, anger or joy?
.
Speech is ~ by far the most important amon~ all the sign
sys tems of hunl>ln intercour~e. h3n ~J.:lov smd the .. human
factor is the strongest stimulu~, and thiS I~ I.~lrgely applK?ble t~
specch. It may even be said rh;u speech IS a supcr~tlOlU lu ...
, to othcr~ nne on I~ ' qU.lO
" ',
-,, ,','cl,'. 'Jno nut onlY'.. b,'' , 'ItS
superior
I
"
impact on the nen 'ous sys tem . \'\fords arc (apablc of dntf(l~ 10 0

.2.

p,jn.takingly evolved: the o)n. . . . . . . . . . ........hipo whjch are products 01 the higher
..... .-I eftA' iDbom. hereditary uncondi t!oncd
'AIr an;.tionIpt the _i081y dependable ph Y'Iolog,
of. body weep them away, transfo.rm thCtl'l
c:liIf*IC or l.CIhufS.e them. In a ccrtnln sense,
.aMmhn oppot;' all the others. All hum3n hiolog...
an be .....sfoUM'd. effaced, or replaced by their
......... duo... the agency of speech, the second signals
.,.... 11lat is the pitfall which critics of social or collcctiyc
p&JChoIogy fall into,
l'orjiimy, seneral psychology (psychology 01 the personality)
~ Iiltle iapodanoe to the psychology 01 speech, Even the
...,,1~ of 'J'jol~
tejielated in~e1?"ndent1y, /speciall~
... _

. . . . . . . . , . . . . 10

. . __ 110m wee 109

wi:

"Ii

assOCtatlOns,

crno lOns

an

..,..eptioaJ. Today, the psychology of speech is becoming a

c:atley' nfibC pt of the psychology of the personality.
&odit .... to the eminellt Rusaian psychologist, L. S, Vy'
....., lot.tbiJ denge in apprtlacb. His successors, A. R. Lu. . . . . . lL Nw T'flDt)e aad their assistants, followers and
.... "WI ata' have also done much in this respect.
TIler inmcI that 1I11:e:-h deuuliioed psychic processes not
................. im8,Mi$ly oboe",able, Speech sa nk deep
.................. ExtIC hial .pecch, either pronounced and
iliad ex .riacD. ad ft ad, COI.Jd tum into silent, "covert"
....... The .h-..d~1Il ....., len'itive electtophysiological tech~
Iiq... _ ~~ao.-rem. /lowing in the oegans 01 speech,
...... . .
is a weakened variety of speech as
..... Wilen fI,ed.., . . . a problem in one's mind, recalling a
.... Of ....-,., ~ oa questions and answers, onc
lOum. Speech is then geared down .
thinking iJ accompanied by a certain
of breathing (an essential component
Iaryu. palate, tongue and lips, This
, 110 h.k.deop do....n into the psychology 01
~ .. DO tLinkina without speech. But the dcaf~
~ H8w? Same incompetent explanations have
'I\e question is simple: the deaf~and~
.. lII.em, We tum our language into
sip. Or facial muscles and we
dU J.aasua&e much as we tcach
......... aIUWiDea. The eSlence, therefore, lies

Illl.:rdy in the tL.lll\\aI!On ot one system of sign .. into another .

Ao; in IlnrlTlal people, . 'le ,,;ulllilt!d spccch o( the mute tr.lns~

fOfm\ itself into n:dllccl intf'lnal specch. not visually perceived

but detectable hy instrument') recording the bio~currcnts.
Conversion of external speech into -covcrt is just one of the
many aspect .. involved in thc transition from intcrpersonal intercou rsc to the inncr world of a pcrson. L S. Vygotsky follnws
other psychologi~ts in describing thc subsequcnt phase as "in
ternalisation". A~sllmc that at first a child hears an order.
repcats it and docs as it is bid. In thc sccond phasc it d()e~ not
repeat the order aloud, and in thc third it nceds no urgin,g,
having adoptcd the ordcr as a rule of conduct. He who ovcrlooks thcse scicntific obscrvations and conclusions, may bcgin at
the wrong cnd and construe that bccausc of its propensitics and
pe rsonal rules, a child ac.c.cpts ccrtain suggestions and instructions
morc rcadil y than othcrs, this being rcflccted in its vocal
intcrchange with thc tutor. Thcrc things are turned on their
hcad .
Thc aforcsaid touchcs on a highly dcbatablc issuc in socalled genetic psychology, i.e., the psychology of thc dcvc.lo~
ment of spccch and thinking. Jean Piaget. s~~est;. that a :h.lid"s
speech and thinking dC\Tclop f~om an. m~tt?1
cgocentnclty,
i.e., from thc soliloquy of an Isolated mdlYldual to a ~rad~al.
"socialisation"; Marxist psychologists sugll;est thc Yery oppo;ate,
i.e., a gradual "intcrnalisation". By ~ow Piaget has partlaJly
renounccd hi s vicws and follows a mlddle-of-thc-road trcnd .
T od ay, invcs tigations of subyocal and imc.rnal ~pccch are at
their peak though the chaptcr on this subJcct IS yct. to bc
, scicncc. \'Vhat has bcen ac h'le~c d so f ar In the
writte n into
Sovict Union and elsewhcrc rC"eals vocal mtercoursc as a. far
more unive rsal basis of human psychics than formcr gencratlOns
of psychologists dared think.
. '
This indicates, among othcr things: that thcrc. IS no ~I[.ect
tm
transition from cithcr thc sounds or C[lCS of an a.ll1mi\ldo~ Ir.b
C I er~
beforc
it
learns
to
spcak)
to
spccch,
or
from
habits
aO
h
(
' hi
. d In'mals to t he uman
atc actions by cycn the hIg Y org.lnt SC i. I '.
I ',
The emincnt Frcnch Mac{lst ps\cho oglst
, k'
I
1 t lin tng.
010 dc o
TI' k.i
h o-ulf
Henri Wallon showcd i~ From Action to
'Jm IIg t c 0
betwecn thcsc twO catcgo ncs .
I' of ntman tntcr
Ac tua\1\', the im'asion of spcci.fic, systcm~not
m.lk~ them an
d
course into thc higher ncn'ous actl\'lty. ocs
anncx or i1 supcrstructurc; it is a rc\olutlon.
123

The origins of hum.m SPI.:I.:dl ,He still shro udnl in myskr).

Only a few hints ~a,'c b~cn. found sO far. \Y/c. (.111 ,note t\VI)
roints illustrating this qu~l.lt'ltIYC leap. A ,"oc l l,s lgnal 1Il\:ariably
performs not onty a posltn"C b~t rdso <l ncgatlY.c functIon: it
forbids something. And there IS rea son to be li eve that this
iuteniicton" function is the older, being threefold :
I. A n~me or designation "replaces the obj ect" in the sense
that it also cancels reflexes directly e\'oked by this object. The
word or gesture forbids handling the obj ect, mnn ipulating it,
even touching it, not until then docs it prescribe ce rta in limited
and deliberate actions. As we sec, there is a phase between
"action and thought" (H. Wallon) in which a w o rd cancels or
forbids action. This phase is obsen'able in the speech-forming
processes of early childhood and in certain psychic d isorders in
adults, laying bare the ancient evolutionary layers of Our
second signal system. This is underlying substance of the
seemingly simple statement that "to man a wo rd replaces the
object which it defines". And the fact is that ca ncellation
preceding replacement is an act of human intercourse.
1. In a conversation or any other oral intercha nge there is
an elusive interdiction to repeat the question o r wo rd s of the
c?l1~tor. However, as psychological and physiol og ical investigations show, this urge is very strong. Accurate measu rcments
o.f the speed of various \"ocal reactions have shown th a t repetition of s?mebody's utter~nces is the swiftest res po nse of the
?cr:vous tissue of ~he brain, providing definite proof, too, that
It IS t~e most ancient. Repetition is highly significa nt in the
f~r~at1on o~ speech in an infant, for, failing to repeat what
a hU ts ,sa~, It would never learn to speak. A symptom called
ec
IS observed'
h ysten3
. an d Oth er neuro ses an d local
d' olaha
d
f
In
Isor ers 0 the frontal lobes of the brain. Questioned o r given
a comm,and, the patient reiterates the instruction more or less
:~:~tl~~i' ;~~tc failin~ to execute the order or give a
as a veh',el y. f ,IS echolaltc reiponse is a separation of speech
from semantic
" In f ormatio
. n. T h at
sort of co e 0 IOtercourse
"
th
h
that in thnversatton
'" I IS senseless
" , oug we may safely assume
e IOltia stages of h I '
biologically del'
I
~man evo utlon it pe rfo rmed a
enslve ro e Imagine
d
.
.

order "stop" and

,',
a og repcatJOg Its master s
contmumg
to do wh atever .It w as d o 'mg.I
WI!at we are d r i
v
i
'
g
live rejection of a: : IS that rcpetition was a so rt o f d efenor
on the astonishing ca ~r or fcommand. Physiologica ll y it drew
pactty 0 the nervous system to reproduce

~he :lui/In'l of ,lnother hody Now a reverse inhihitinn "

Llnpmcd (~n thiS rcjcction in human interc/Hlrsc: one InU ( not
mod,; fJllC t; (I)IIC)llltc)r for (his would Celrry human ll1tulimrsc
beyond. the hljunds of ;1 scm antic or CCm~(ifHlS relationship.
3 Lvcry word .~pl)ken, written or thought forbids or "bars"
many other words. rt may be said to be in connict with anv
other w~rd, including those of almost similar form or meaning,
tho~gh liable to alt~r C\"Cr so slightly the further now of speech.
V~na~lts arc contmuously eliminated and suppressed. On
re jecting all thc other words, the word fuses with its own one
a nd only precise meaning. E[(atic choice of words is observed
in the earlier stages of a child's de\"elopment, growth of intellect and education.
Furthermore, the instrument of oral intercourse is able to
give the signs a different colouring. Elemcntary particles of a
language, e.g., a phoneme, letter, syllable or intonation, can
cha nge the meaning of an utterance; at the samc time some of
t hei r modifications fail to perform the logical function of an
elementary linguistic particle, but may scrve as elementary
part icles differentiating one dialect from another and, therefore, "one's own folk" from "strangers".
T hese three negati\'e functions of words (emind us in a
broader sense of the socio-psychological opposition of "we" and
" they". By its semantic and positi\'e aspect, the word is oriented
on the world of things. Its negati\'e aspect, elusi\-e but very
d eep-rooted, belongs to the world of human relations, particularl y negative relations, And by now we know that negativism
is characte ristic of relations with "they" groups, although it has
broad scope ranging from war and hostility to mcre competition.
T he taboos a re ncver absolute. Somc part of what is banned
a lways remains. This surviving grain ~Iays a part in. the
struct ure of speech and thinking. SometImes, and th~ hlsto~r
of cu lture and social psychology bears this out, ~hls grmn
germ inates, bearing strange fruit, the origin of willch eludcs
.
com pre hension.
Ea rl ie r we mentioned a peculiar phenomenon In the ps\"chology of speech-echolali:.t, an in\'olunt~:ry repetit~on. o~ word~
spoken by anorher pcrson. Its repressIOn ~10~ climln~tlOn docs
not impl y at all that it \'~lnishes. Repressed In the direct form,
. pro(lucc(
,
I 0 IfS hoots th:lt !!:rew
into p~ychocultur;ll
phcnomen;l
It
..
-"
in th cir own rights.
12fi

124

In many ethnographical phcnomcnn the psrchologist will espy

echolalicai origins. Take the repetition ~)" ~cncr:l~\(Jn .~lfter
generation of tribal legends and myths, for uS ot ~l. higher
degree of civilisation it is hard to comprehend the stability and
accuracY of repetition of long strings of names of .ancestors, or
of tales about campaigns and migrations sometimes taklllg
hours to recount. What partly helps to remember thes~ names
and tales is their poetic form. Transformed echo,laita thus
produces the "memory of the people", their oral epic legends,
Thor Heycrdahl was baffled by the exact knowledge Po l~nc
sians displayed of their remote past, a knowledge. that sU(\"1ved
bet:ause no one ever ventured to introduce the slightest change
in the words passed on from generation to generation, literally
"from mouth to mouth", bypassing thought.
Another ramification of echolalia is the verbatim communication of information not in time but in space, o r what the
dwellers of steppes and deserts ca1l the "long car". Nowadays,
most people, however remotely settled, get information simultaneously with others through newspapers, the radio and television. Formed .., this information was relayed from mouth to
mouth, and, surprisingly, reached the remotest addressee in
almost exactly its original form. In modern societies, rumours
playa part in social psychology, but the echolalic basis is so
weakened that almost everyone changes something in the information he passes on.
One more echolalia derivative. Take the role of a choir, of
collective speech, in ancient cultures and rites. The choir is
echolalia condensed to simultaneity. There is no semantic interchange among the performers, for no information is tra nsmitted . Yet a choir is probably the most expressive example of
what social psychology calls a "we" group.
The second point, illustrating the qualitative leap from the
higher nervous activity of animals to human speech and thinking is that speech and thinking represent an inherently specific
human structure from the earliest age.
The simplest conscious speech (purely emotional interj ections
es:cepted) is, according to linguistics, a binomial or dual act.
One-element speech does not exist. One-element acts of speech
may alter the sense of a word or utterance, but ::tre insu ffici ent
to be ~.rer~ of sense, information, meaning.
A ~nolll1al act of speech is called a syntagma, It is immatenal whether the syntagma is a com hi nation of morphemes

in a wo(1. or. 1 cnmbination of word..; in a vcry 5impie dau~e

or. a cOmhlO<ltlOn nt ,10 or'll complex and a pause. Thc n:iation
S,lllP ?f, elements 10 a syntagma is defined generally in modern
hngmstlcs as a comhination of the "determinable" and the
"determiner".
However, within the framework of formal lingui~tics we
could not evaluate properly the discovery that human think in/-:
possesses a characteristic structure hom the moment it appears.
This d iscovery we owe primarily to Henri WaHon, who
d escr ibed and analysed in Vol. I of his fundamental work, Les
origines de la pensee chez. l'en/ant (The Origin of Thinking in
a Chi ld), the initial thinking or, we might even say, the prethinking, i.e" the formation of binomial combinations or pairs.
But fo r this mechanism, objects and external events would,
Wallon a\'ers, have formed just an amorphous string of psychic
phenomena, lacking a real basis for association, As he saw it,
these "couples" are definable at the very sources of thought.
"The elementary particle of thought is this binary structure
itself and not the clements which compose it," he writes.
"Duality precedes unity. A pair or dyad is antecedent to the
isolated element."! Any conceivable series, and any common
concept generallr, is reduceable to simple pairs. WaBon
observed this elementary binary thinking in children, but
maintains that it is also in a way a limit of the degradation of
thinking in adults; moreover, it is detectable in some mental
disorders, when it is probably best visible,::!
.
.
Wallon maintains, and with good reason, that thiS formation
of pairs docs not encompass association of obj~cts or terms
either by simil arity, contiguity or contrast. The ~og\Cal ~ature ~f
these pairs is that they arc elementary, not blO~ry" I.e., ~helr
essence is the bridge between the shorcs: the paIr IS prcClsely
the structure outside of which the assocJ3tcd clc~ents can~ot
be conceived or represented separately. The psychiC. mechaOism
of thi s o peration, Wallon holds, is still to be explalncd.
We may add that physiology, toO, has no~ yet found an
2.pproach to this problem, This ment~l o~eratlon. ~nown ~s ~
binomial combination in genetic loglc~ IS somethlng d~n,t\(clj
different from what physiology descnbes. ,as d a. conbltIOn~ I
oral relationship. Elements lome \0 a moml:)
temp
re fl ex or
t H . WaHon, Ln Qrigin"f d.: {,I pe!lsh~ ..he-:. I"cn/';I/I, t. I, P~ris, 1"'41,
p 41
:l.

Ibid ., pro

100-01 .

127
12&

, , '0

mao,'
None
many communttlcs.
' . " we" group".
.
h ' can
I ' thcrdon:
\,'
, \' h'
' d ,0 the t<lul
exclusion of t l: ot le rs . l!.; 1S,
monopo ISC IS mm
'-...
I
"~I I f
' were continuous
" \y Sf.:
"\ t:L
"';0<>
' \\C
group
as It
~ the
.
. t t .l t \\1 _ hor
'h'c olOmc~t determine his hcll;wiour ;lnd. kclin.gs. ~n, (It cr
words an educated man requires pcrsuaSIOI1 ; . III IllS case,
auto~~tic contagion is weak or alto.gc~hc[ ineffective. ,However,
' camel
" des WI'th_ h'ls convICtIOns , he subm it s to the
when It
contagion of a human milieu, of a "w,e" group. ,
.
The rcader's memory surely contams ~any ,rel evant cxam~lcs,
from the most lofty, such as mass herOism III th e battl e hnes
sparked by some individual example o,r ?atth~ cry, Or such. as
labour enthusiasm among workers at budding sites and a~to [lcs,
to such trifling psychological facts as t.hc ~1Utual cOntaglO l: of
excitement at a football match. Contaglo~ IS. pres.ent als~ 10 a
weaker and often elusive form in our dady hie, I~ all history,
and the morc remote the datc thc morc denuded Its for m.
Two essentially different phenomena- define? a s im!tation
and suggestion-arc distinguishable in the psychic contaglOn of
collectives and communities.
.. .
.
Speech is almost the only ,"chicle. o~ suggestion. Iml~a t lOn IS
usually imitation of actions, acts, mlRlicry and panto mlI~ e and
dress' imitation of speech-be it involuntary (ec hola lta) or
dclib~ratc-is a particular instance of imitation. In o the r word s,
~uggcstion is exclusively human, while imitation .is tracea~ le to
a physiological phenomenon common to all lu gher a nimals,
though it may be of a specifically human nature.
Physiologists have pondered and discu ssed the act of imitation in the context of its mechanics. An animal only sees how
another similar creature responds to an external stimulant, b ut
docs not itself experience the effects of this stimula nt. Th is is
flufficient, however, to induce a like motor reaction.
It is indeed unclear how watching another anima l becomes a
stimulant for "a like" reaction with the "same" limb, the head
or the body. How does a body identify itself with t he onc
beside it? No solution is yet available. However, the biolog ical
usefulness and adaptive impact of this mechanism are very great
and evident. It aids in the preservation of progeny and is
stronger in younger than adult animals of many species. This
~nsti?ct of imitation was studied by zoologists and zoopsycholog15ts 10 gregarious animals, and is hence sometimes d escribed as
the "gregariow instinct".
Bourgeois psychologists applied to human soci ety the bio logic~l

concept of .;rebaril)U'> instincts and the g{erlriou~ conduct {f

, ~_nilll;lL. Thi~ nlgar "biol')gl.ltion' of ~u3litativdv difff"_nt
phenonu.:na n;lturally (lid til uil:ncc nothing but harm. bLlIl
(h.:~~cnJcd from anjmal~, it j" ttue, and belongs to the animal
kingdom hy virtue of the chief charactcristics of hi" body
organisation, but he also possesses certain altered bchaviour~1
mechanisms, the evolution of which took millions of ycars. What
is of particular interest is that they underwent changes; but
more important is that they were supplemented, replaced or
fo rced out by other mechanisms typical of social man onlr.
The scope of imitation is remackably broad. We simply do
not notice that clements of im itation arc present in any
ord ina ry intercourse. The pattern of our daily routine is largely
b,-l sed on imitation: the food \\-'e eat, the clothes we Wl.:ar, the
homes we live in and the utensils we use arc all imitated.
U nconsciously people adopt the manners and habits of others,
this bc ing more intensive in children and less so as people grow
older. Education is partially based on imitation: rcpeating the
teacher's explanation, imitating other pupils, following good
exa mples. Learning to speak and learning a foreign language is
imitation. Learning a trade, art and sport is based mostly on
"demonstration", an imitative mechanism. Imitation is an ind ispe nsable clement of many phenomena in labour anti social
Ii fe.
Vcrbal contagion, i.e., suggestion, depends on a more complex
psychi c mechanism.
It is therefore natural for social psychology to concentrate
more on oral contagion or suggestion, and not on non-oral. and
non-s ignal contagion, although these too play their p~rt, at t imes
unconscious an d at t imes refracted th rough the pnsm of conscio usness and persuasion.
T he essence o f sugges tion is that if the re is an absolute .1nu
u nconditional trust-in other \'lord s, an absolute "W~" grou.rwo rd s necessarily convey t he images, ide:ls and sens:l tlOns wlw.:h
the spea ker implies; the explic it cla rity and force .of these suggested ideas pro\'oke acti~ns as necessarily :lS If they .we,~c
elicited by dircct observatIOn and know ledge and not tluou",h
the med iu m of another pe rson.
Every speaker sugges ts someth ing, although not evcry or.~~
suggestion is :lccepted as such, for nea~l y ah~i~)'S there .. 1:-;
evidence of a n opposite psychic :lctiyit)', I.C., cntl(;ll ;lPP(;lI~;lt
anu comp:lrison with something else.
go

130

131

-mag of the term

"suggestion" in ;\ hrn;hll..'r,cn,
t:bIt which the word hots in UJlllnlOn u~a~\,..
.....tioa implies. somcthin~ rdated to IHt'di(i;ll',
c;onfUled with hypnOSIs. I-Iuwt.:n:r. IIll.:di(al
or non-hypnotic) is ;l p.lrtiuLbr fidd.
ate three types or forms of su,ru;cstinn: I \ in
a) in natural sleep; ~) in a waking state. It is
of sn.llr.tion. too broad for the narrow hounds
JlIiUiJlCl. which directly concerns socia l psychology,
ianu of suggestion are mentioned here merely
.. artificial coDdition bordering on a complete absence
attitude to words. This could be described as a
medium. eliciting absolute or almost
between people when the power of suggcsf'. tbe word is PULUt. Social psychology has no relati on to
t:be . . two t)peI of suggestion; its entire attention is dc\'otcd
., ......... in. waking state. t
lTba odaa' form of RlggestiOD is known as autosuggest ion.
~ plI' boIogy recognises self-encouragement, sc1 f-comm ...... tcIf.t uih,!mmt or their opposites, such as control of
w ernorions by talking to onesclf, under onc's breath
aIaucL 'l'IaiI briep US back to the previous paragraph: speech,
.-0,_ eHonel means of intercourse among pcople, may be
10 coiled lubvoral 5pcecb, added proof that the powcr of oral
- . . . b. iI boundlas 10 long as distru st or opposition is

mnl. (lack of lOnnc lIon h :twc~n phl)nctic:o imd imaJ;c6): 1) a

~"k(J\m hv thl.; ",ug~c tot
with the rcsultant ah"en~ c !If
Mo.-mant;c conLllt and Ingle; lJ '1 p,1r;,dmtlC 1,\ reaction, in partic
ubr a negatIve onr, tY:~H.:.d (If functional di~ordcrs of th,~
lH.:r \'IJU~ 5y'h'1lI or ncurose . In aU othl;" casc~, 0[.11 inltucncc IS
irrc ~i\tih,lc (,'f "fatal', if not fluntcrcJ by di:'otru<;t--the psychi!..
;lct of rCjl,:ctUl1l,

to

)j,

.ao.

elimjplri.
III . . braid

is an universal means of
lIIJdaic relationsbip,
to comprehension of word s and
. . . .'
word in a "known" languagc nccessar il y evokes
mental image, tbis becoming the moti ve for nn
the
the
the urge to act. A
ooc ' ,a-nd tl1C sam<.! thing.
to an individual or group
childhood, cvokes n negative::
Refusal to comply with a verbnl
case, only: I) a foreign Inng uagc is
obsb'Bl'1/t''llIIoi :;/);:;lIi (Role

V. N. Kulikov,

"Vopro~y

~~~~~:.:::"' pJiHIfJ/(}gii
of Psychology of
(P[O)-

Ie

Irresistihle compn:hell\ion and perfotmann; arc, in away,

the groundwork, while thc rcfu\al to under'itand. disagreement
and non-fulfilment arc secondary phenomena. or a complex
psych ic pattern on this himple groundwork.
Those arc general outlines only, but they may sen'C U$ a\ the
springbroad to psychological problems underlying concrete
situations, such as the difference between suggestion by individual to coilective. collective to individual, collective to collective,
and individual to individual in a collective.
Suggestion as a whole is one of the most effective and
important sections of social psychology,
Various degrees of uncritical acceptance of suggestion arc
obsen-ed in all people, children more than adults, tircd people
more than those in good health. persons suffering from an
inhibition of cortical function, frightened or embarrassed or
lacking confidence more than people in good or normal !>pirits.
However, availablc matcri:tl prompts the conclusion th.1t the
chief facto~ is the 1?re~tige of the ','suggestor" in the eyes of the
"suggestce", It consists of two aspects: confidence of the su~
gestor in the success of his action and readiness of the "suggestee" to yield to an external influence, i.e., his trust and
absencc of "ifs and buts".
In fact there is almost always a certain amount of distrust
or anx iety. Therefore, circumvention of the suggest~e's re~istance,
dismissing his doubts by persuasion and explanatIOn, sttll. pla):s
an important part in social life. In other words, sugges~lon IS
related to presuasion and explanation. The grc3ter the discrepancy between the suggested idea or action, on the one hand,
and the convictions of the suggestee, on the other, the stronger
is his resistance, his dcfemive reaction. Therefore, t~e mo~e
irrefutable the arguments the "su~gesto[" w~e1ds . the hIgher Ill S
restiae the greater the s ugge~tee's trust to him, the more
P , t""o ,

f \'
"c's own" An orator
co nclusive the recognitIOn 0 lim as ~n
.'
u.
has a "'r~e choice of mcans, from logically .!~~dut'lb1.e_.,a~~ f
hcre
menb to subtle pS)'I.:hological dences, to create ;10 'ltlllo::.r
0
133

community and personal contact with the audi l'l1(I,.', .i\nd. hllth
these extremes arc important for thc thcory :lod r r.'lctll:C of
social psychology.
.
.
To illustrate the point, here is an account hy f!.1rklutl Hot1lm,
the Soviet film director. of V. L Lenin addr('.~sing a mCI.:t ing of
demoralised, hungry and ragged soldiers. It tnok rb cc in. 19: 0
in a cinema; the regimental commissar, who spokc fir st , tl"t cd til
vain to stand up to unfriendly heckling. Then L (.; nin ca m(.; on
to the stage, and took advantage of the lack of cont:l ct hctw(.;cn
the commissar and the soldiers.
"Lenin instantly sensed the tense atmosphere and undcrs tood
the mood of the audience," Romm recounts . "Be advan ced to
the edge of the stage, and the audience fell silent. The Commissar said: 'It is at a very opportune moment that you acrived ,
Comrade Lenin! I give you the floor!' Lenin peered a t the
audience as he walked along the edge of the stage ; it seemed
that he looked intently at each of us. Then he stoppcd, winked
so the commissar could not see, and said to him as hc looked
at us: 'Why? You began, and you must go on, Say what yo u
have to. and we shall listen.' Somebody laughcd. L enin , who
had noticed that we did not listen to the commissar, wop the
audience by his humorous remark. He treated us as allies : 'wc',
Le., he and all those present, 'we shall listen'. The o?a:tor
quickly finished his speech; then Lenin began. He spoke simpl y,
in a serious confiding tone. He told us why we had to fight a
war against Poland, why we could not afford to sign a peace
treaty yet, why more new troops were needed and why the food
supply would be short for at least another year, Perhaps it was
because Lenin walked up and down along the edge of the stage
as he .poke. his eyes on the audience, that we had a feeling of
close contact with him. He stopped from time to time and
looked closely at the delegates. When he spoke, we had the
feeljng that he kept asking: 'Do you understand and do you
agree?'
And each of w had the feeling that Lenin's eyes we re
OIl him."!

Thit

description shows how

the two influencing facto rs
combine into dear,
arguments, and that the
""'''' direct
to .&ain COntact with the
we all belonged to one

It. led.
... >'-1"

&ted,

II

AiIIo (Talks about the Cinema), Moscow, 1964,

"WC". Ii i .. grf' ..t Intc'lectual power" and III gil' of IC;lti..:r hip
fTM til: I ~l1in "olle (I 1 u~ .. 1eJI wor kcn, pe,l' .l~ ts nnd solr!i( rs,
whi ch , after all. j. identiol with tcu!.t and, 111 th~ ult;m~ltf'.
un lim it(.;d tru~t.
.
""
A ~ we .llrcadv know, unlimited tru),t lod su~e ::O~l u
sy l10tWmOlh. Tn;,t ;'1 a feeling and lwan.:n ... ~lI' If h:lollglfl~ to
"o ne'), own", tIl the same "we" group.
.
'. I
By and lar~e, phcnomena relating tIl j;u~gestltlfl m.1V In sl~~lal
1\ eholo 'y he reduced to the three f(JII(~wln;..: das.;cs. . b. I m
trust;
and, res.lstance
pe rsuasion to eliminate objectIOns r,7~ul~,mg III a r~Cfl\C~~e( fo:cibl~
The less the self-awareness of a we group, t e m. .
" .
t be Authority posses~es 5ug~e~U\"c PfJ'W(,;r~.
is 'fccc from distrust '" th;,
cion of sha ring the thoughts and intcfrc.sb of a .( ~het ~[Q S~~n.
N ow bac k to the above conccpt a 10 forrna t I). . .
.
, formation
f del' of the modern 10
t hcor,y and hence one
tI
non , oun
.
b t ted him~c1f from man an
of the fathc rs of C)"be~netlcs, a s. rafc
t',on' Sy,tl'm. At a lat<.:r
..
a
a
Imk
of
an
m
orma
.'
.
,
I
his pCCU lantlcs < s i d an a~ an informatiOn.
. a pwchology c assc
m
<,
Col
1
stage, engmeerm,.. .'.
.
d th hief feature, the n ter ()
receptive element. But It reJccte h c, Cterchanac of information
,..
h"tstom:a I
trust a n d d 'ISt rus t which screens
h t e 10 depcndin
on
rr
betwcen people, This .fi~t~r . ~ asng~~d commu~ities. Absolut!.!
cond itions, cultures, ,clvlhsatlon the extrcmes. Information may
trust and absolutc d istrust are whiie a positivc truth may h!.!
be e nt irely untrue but acceptable,.
deorees of trust requiring
t
n there are various
~
.
t "
.
ontrol Unquestiom ng t[US . b
rej ected. I n- bc wee. .
diffc rent forms of 1flf.ormat~~n a~ce t ~ ny abmrdity. TU~OIn.~
ta nta moun t to a readl~css
,
P may say that absurchty IS
e
from logic to psychological tcrms on. ,' ';'possibile cst" (Tertut~
. I "Certumd'est IqUIa
'
the response to falt,l...
ted the purcr and t h
e mot!.!
lian), Thc more prunt tn'e an Is~sa its' internal structurc wove.n
typical a "we" group ~hc marc . somcbody's barc word, ThiS
I c" .
trust I10t' ng fl lse in formation,
.
evcn
I,'oln a f a b (l' C 0 f t rut
s
"
,
, 'I' .
for ClfCU a I
I
h c
pro vides
POsS tbl ltieS
..
grayitate toW;lC( s t es
'ommUOIues
<
I"
I'
.
a bsurditics. Re Il,pO llS I.: Th p,\'cholorric'll COfe of (C Iglon s
.
"\\e
. " groups.
'!">
'I1 .\0
. d cement.
e xclusl\'e
" . CI'' .strcnrrthen
thl! 1.lIt
o.
of d istrust awakens
1 'tl Rel irrio ll s 3bsur<.h ttes on ~'.
31 I .
~
"
Thc I ntru~lOn
.
n'~
the rel igious "we grou~"bl thc passi ng of inform~tlon ~m.o '"'
thought 3nd rc nd ers. possf' e the necessity of chooslflg bt.:twccn
'1 (,ht sp rltlgs rom
.,
peoplc. 1 lOU~ . , . t u ts co mmuDitles.
twO or more SU!!gcst,ons, [ ~ . ,

(u~((itic~l)

critici~m, Ji~trust

~~~ ~~~m~~~t~u~u:t

lai~~cst ~u,p"

<

J :l;

134

tf~ sug~tt:~~~

'"I\.

k II common knowledge that conditions of alhOltlll' Iru\t

..,. be e*perimeot.al!r produced by hypnotic SlI~l, ... tjOI1, ',I'he

-hfect: thea believes In

what may be countl'r to the (Ofllllllllll.latioas from his 6rst signal system. The CSSl'n(l' (If ),uggl',IJon
Iia ia mil contradiction of direct information for it i)' )'l'IlSdl'S~
CD tugat anything a person already knows, ft:d ~ 01" i . . It.ldy
eo perform. No act to suggestion is in c\'iul'll(c in thl' , Iattcr
car:, though in life the matter is far more complex" Cn nhd cn(c
(trust) apP"'aR to spring from the subject of su.'-":gestlOll or, conversely, i. adjusted by his or her reactions of mntwl , doubt,
thought. In other words, the hypnotic condition eliminates alt
potaItiai "we" gcoups with which the subject lllay id e ntify
himself. In a waking person, suggestion is constantly countered
by a certain amount of distrust, i,e., correctives designed to
verify whether or not the suggestor belongs to a "they" group.
Prom the foregoing we may now infer a rathe r surp rising
definition of the process of persuasion from the standpoint of
Nr.ia l psychology. Persuasion is removal of the barder or, if
you will. of a solid wall protecting the personality from sug

satioo.

s.

AuntOIU1Y

The lOcio-psychological situation conveyed by "we and they"

ia: .Immt never a merely external relationship betwcen commu

Pities. A complex mutual diffusion takes place. It is not connned
to "",!tua' exchange of people, elements of culture, commodities

(a '"we and they.. situation). The inner structure of a "we"

gwup is complicated by the position in it of separate jndivid~
.... who, while belonging to the "we" group. arc at on ce
different from it.
applicable to any personality in any community.
'l'IIeoKjceJ analysis. however, should proceed from an opposite
1iI:adoa.: how can a "they" be persooi6cd in "he"? How can
-we" be penooified in u you " or "I"?
Let - picture "we" and 'they" as two circles (one of them
. . , eva lac an arc). Then picture that they arc neither apart
~ diat _ intw:l'IeCt; picture a tangent, a tangent in a singl e
..... ..,. 'I'hiI ia the IH:sinning of the dialectics of their mutua l
. ' . J- AI the poiat is the opposite of a line :wd of
. . . ~ . . .:InUi, a penooality is the opposite of an de- , . ......... Q)I""'unity. It i. the point of contact of the
dle_ tIaat rqtrcIC8b this transformation of a "they" into

136

n ... "f the ')("r on of the "th(..y' group

1111.1 til the 'we' group, The p'tnt of contac~ IS
'J Ie
n Iml orbit and bc.lfJng~ to j.ur (om.
JIlunit y, wildt, tl II flpposmg it In primeval hl!.tr)ry .1 figure 0\
thi" kind was inv 51 gate::! in dL"t31l dod cmbcl1i~hcd with rich
b.(tlla\ IIl.1t, tLal hy a Brit sh C lnographer J. G. Fra/er, ;n
"J'bc (;o/d('Il I3fJlIlZh.1 Tnls personage Ii a saucd prisllllt:r doomed
to die hut v.'I)rshippcli '$ J ,hid fllr a !>hort time 'he trihe IS
personifi ed by him and at once opposes him
In short, just as in the plural the "they" j" more primary
than "we" ("you" heing the category of their interpenetration

"he"_ In oth
i .. flll I"n,ll;:
;1 p1.:rslll1a\ity

wlnh,

interaction) so in the singular the dialectics of pcr~l)nality

formation should begin with "hc". Howc\cr. the point in which
the two ci rcles arc tangent is of a dual nature as it bcl(jng~ to
both circles, "He" still bclonl;s essentially to the "they" circle,
even if the latter interacts with the "we". But the same point
belongs to the '\ve" circle, and is therefore "you". If ,int~rcounc
is possible with this isolated individual an.d if he IS In some
respects equal to others, then one of the cJ(~les penetr.atc1 the
other. This is an imponam sta~e in personahty formation. Yet
"you" and "1" are still poles 3pa~, \I.'hile "h~" and "yo~" ~rc
already adcquate means for a soclo--psychologlCal. determlOatlon
(of the status) of an authority, chie~, or communtty leader.
.
It is not unusual for a communtty to ha\-e no . leader. , ~ess
organi sed and amorphous communities embody theIr ncgatlvlsm
or indignation in some person, rather than have a leadcr, In the
more stable communities, e\'cn thc smallcst on~s, held, togethcr
me rely ~y mutua! sym.Qiltby, therc is ~tways endcncc, If onl)~~
'-t nomination b\' one of Its members. Lar~er co
f
trace 0 1, 0
' .
'bl b
I ted permunities in which all members cannot, pOSS! y e rc a
$onaHy or eyc n know each othcr require persons or organs to
O(

cxtcrnalise them.
h 't
It is only for the s:1ke of cl:lrit~ that we. refcr to :n "~~ ~~I ~
or a leadcr in the ~in~ular. i\ctu"llr. this. extrlcm case I~icf
.
. di
d I Firstly an authont\", ea cr or c
s(mpitne menta mo c,
. . ',. he <\-c' ~f a homogeneous
.
. II
. '[ on(' person 10 t
~.
.
IS pmcttca ~. ne\ C
h p~rson The authorit\' Olav
.
I in rebrion to t at I,:

'
h ..
cummulllt} eq~la

'
.. b- pertinent to emp a~l"e
t
'r
'on
.
-\nd
It
m.l'
(,;
I)l! a ,Croup 0 pc ~ ..... I" _ I I' rie~
distinguished hctwccn
that from remote tlmc~ po ItH.;l t lCO .
.

See

.1 , G.

Fr.lIC1

./

r 'd
B-"
L ,l Study. in ,u.;k, ..nd R, i:hn
uo,;J
... "

1.0I\dUIl, \l)!.,.

137

son) u n the onc hand, and olig;tn.:hy

per
one
b
(
I
h
monarC y fUC Y
.

)
I
I
or rcpuhii c (government by a few or ~;\ny pc.: rSO [l S ',on .t 1~ ot lei:
However. the line between the two IS a H :: ry com cntum,ll ,one,
y (rule hy two persons), trllllll'
for t here arc ex..'mples of d iarch
" ,CS, C"'c . Secondly
\'Ira
~
au,horities lead e rs :l nt! rc
I r ~ons of res"
"h"I", " 'more or less
developed
;10<.1 comp ex. commulllty
ponsl l l } " n "
..
,','
I
I
"
form a sort of ladder or hierarchy. Jlu s mean s t l ? t llC community is , to a certain dq~[cc. con~poscd o.f . co-orlhnal~d .COOl
munities at ~cvcral level s. But he It a pohucal , ccclcsla~tlc or
sume other hierarchy, the leaders at all level s., exce pt the highest.
arc invested with power not by the COm~1Unl~Y h ut by the. top
authority , i. e. , afC its deputies and pcrsondi catl on . C haracteristic
of the tor authority arc the age-old juridi~al . conce pts o.E s.overcignty and sUl erainty: its essenCe is t~at .. t IS o beyed inSide ;l
community ("we") and not obeyed outSid e I~. .
.
.
Authoritv (and hence prestige, authoritanalll sm , il u thorJtatl~e
ness) great"ly compli cates the subj ect and mc thod of SOCial
~ ychf)logr.
.
There a rc two aspects to the .wtho nty concc pt (kader , ruler,
executive) : first, he is not obeyed outsid e the coOl lll un ity, second,
his word is law in the community. Both aspects a re bascd Oil
suggestion.
Some relations arc beneath the threshold of suggestio n , others
arc of a hi~hcr plane than unilateral suggestio n , i.e., arc passed
through the Alter of criticism. The authority-the bea rc r of
power aod influence- is surrounded by a great num ber of people
whose relationship to him is of the form e r type. It is not a
vacuum, but a relationship of non-suggestion .
No matter how big or small a historical community (a "wc"),
the strangers arc always more numerous. E very orga niscd community constitutes itsclf Arst by a relation ship of non-s uggestion
with this overwhelming majority.
" Incomprehension" (at different levels) is o ne such type of
relationship. As a point of intcrc!>t we might recall t hat many
leaden. kiDgil and rulers were forcign e rs, almos t always wall ed
01 ffiHD the majority of the people by thci r so lid r alaces . castles
or tcu:plel, and by an army of atte ndant... and Auard s. They
were isolated from the rest of the world bv ins urmountable
barricn. The language they spoke was the I~ngll;lgc o f arm ....
And very often. by a sort of selec tion. individual s chosen as
!ead rra . (unlen their power was hereditary) w cre, by psychic
IftClrftlltiOD below the usual standard as regard s co mp.l ni onship.

138

suggl.:~tihilily ilnd sllLiahility. The gre.lt Fn.'nLh 18th-century

Curt:-Cl)mmlln;~t, JC:ln Meslier, /:aid that all kings were crJmln
als, the: worst alllong Illen, and th;lt only the rational sOLiety of

thc f tlture would dlf)()~e it'> rulers from among the able),t anti
wisest.
I' n ;lllY (ase, organi)'cd wllunlinitil.:s (wilh Ic;\t!ers) arc oppnsed
to ",,11 others". In other words, the persons composing these
n>llllHunities, more or less obeying the leadcr, f()n(Jwin~ him,
in fl uenced by him, are an exteption proving the rule: he is that
who is not obeyed; only '\ve' do the opposite.
T he status of authority in a community is alway~ rtlled with
an inner contradiction. An authority, leader or chief is distillLt
from the [cst of the pcople, and the pcople mentally isolate him
from the "we" ~[Oup. On the other hand, an authority j~ always
a model to be imitated and thus hound to be strippcd of thc
aum of "exdusivencs~". These two opposite trends take m.lny
different fonm in differing historical conditions and sot;al (;(Immun ities.
Creating an authority is like int(Qdut~n~ a hctc~oJ.;e~eClu~ allli
extcrnally different body into a commumty. Tru.st 10 thiS auth()r~
ity by all the othec members of the. com~u?lt): pro~otcs .~he.
internal consolidation of the commumty Yls-a-y~s. the outside
wodd. The fact that a pcrson is elevated. to a posltton of authority certa inly raises him abovc the coJlectlve."Thc:, fact that a.l~an
is conrtded in attathes him strongly to the we group. It IS .an
ext reme case when an authority is imposed .on a cO~lmuOlty.
Sometimes the bearcr of authority is an aiten, fore igner,
stranger The other extreme is the status of a le~der of a mass
"moveme"
" ,ac
"I oby
nt (e.g., conscIOUS
n .the worklllg cbss.. or
I h.a
spontaneous peasant or national liberation war) d~;u:lctenset )
f rce volunt:lry and :lbsolute trust al~d subon.itnatlOn. '.()'
T'his instance may be called the highest fOfm of ~res.t"t">c and
authority. Theoreticall~. this leads. awa~". along twO llIlcs. Areatcr

0:

imitat ion of thc a~lthont~' a.nd ro\\"t~h~I~~~~~ritr stcmmill~ from

We have mentIOned Imitation 0
'
.
I I" J"
r.
t lntl stlencc
t 1e ~a ~r
trust. In ~\'ork, ba!t1~, po It~~~.' I;~ t~mll1;l;lding, 'but also lw
e nforces hiS :1uthont) not 10 .
) I' J10wever the ~rnwing:
" b l ' heinl-:.' It lC t:\.amr,. c., of the '
. .III ;,
(.I cmollstr;lung,
;ulth()rlty
."
'11 o~ tle pnlpcrtcs
"cont:1~J{)II"
.
f U n"'jl,en""S
It m;w. he,om!.'
.
.sprc.
, Il
thonty
0
l
,-". .
wmmullIty striPS t lC :1,\1 I
. I. be redllted to '\;l\u;ll amllllg
"the first amoll~ cqu,'I~ , llll~ ". so 1ll1lll it l. tlut ,\s~in1il.1tl'l1 ib
III tie t.:om
cquas
. ... , thssolvc
"
I ." , I'..

exclusive features. In order to prevent this. andent :-o\,;icty h;1d

.yeci" groups or castes of attendants. priests or nristo(ut~ who
prevented imitation of the ruler by the co~m()ners, .No. "n,t; nct"
. " him. Yet the general trend towards standMdlsatltJII pm
81CSilCd: first the upper classes to strengthen tht'ir SIl(i;l1 roll.:
.eitcd the prerogatives of the ruling authority, the ncxt in rank
followed suit, and so on, until everything that had hct'n cxclu sivc
berame commonplace. At first, the Russian word ~o.Hld(/r
denoted only the tsar, then, a few centurios later, the cxprcssion
milostivy gosudar became current among intellectuals , altholll4h
it did not, as yet, spread to the peasants; in most countrics
people address each other as "sir". So it is with many traits of
evelyday life and behaviour. The ruler, for his part, had to
adapt himself sometimes to the lower strata and take to plain
living, to be more like the people,
EYen this social diffusion can undermine authority, but what
undeuuines it most is trust (i.e., a direct "we" feeling) in some
new authority.
It is a mistake to see a negative aspect only in all acts of
dilObedieoce. Disobedience of authority is a claim to power,
being the measure in which the disobedient individual or
iCHMooe dse claims power.
We have now examined the socio--psychological mecha ni sm
of voluntary subordination and unconditional trust; it remain~
10 look at the revetsc mechanism-the formation of distrust and

ialabotdioation.
R.evaliog empirical data may be obtained at difl"erent lev els,

nosing flGiii. observation of child groups to complex

SOCIO-

political move ments and situations.

The lOrin-psychological mechanisms of trust and distrust are
~mp1icated. their intricate combination accounting for the
wuomJ41w o a of soc;o..paychic life. Trust and distrust form the
em.:: chm,mg ""chic suhltance of the internal life of COtn munitin, aorieties. GOllectivea and groups. It would contribute
. - fIVIICII of "hare to diacover how to assess and measure
diml Ioack of trust in an authority, its repudiati on,
.....ig

'4"'"

to cement the community, thc unity of

.e7C8

peoples know exactly what authorit ics

... what to repudiate and crush tluring

'e..

movements; at othcr times

coucioulness is rent by overt or

latent confli(: . ~ t, Whlt I . ""ltlsld.cr..d on,'

,
I
'dl
I
.
v
SI)WnW!,Wllt
I co O~I't tn41 1 der ~... r.~, lC Wt; conccpt
" h " .,
n~\Vlt~c
I llC Jltlmlte qu ...- .[1In th r Ou
sh
nui {l i )c rcuglll .:(.
I ' rCIe:"j~
..
mO VC[lH.IU w~;
Whom to Ili. belleve . The maUl que 1m for
[ca!lOIl
.1IIt!. [1I11ll1 Iulwavi W
Wh m 0:"v ......
..... I,cvc, I ,. ;t
.
..nl \\ny . .
. ~uggc\~lon IS tIe :nn""11:0~t PS)"c lil.. me :hanism of authuritarInlll slll. Suppressing OPpOSItion, authoritarianism is a mcchan
~sm of prohibition an~ comm~nd, drawing a variety of cmf)tion~
1010 tlit: spht:[c /Jf sO<.:lo-psy<.:hlc phenomena. However. we ,hould
not pi<.:tu[t: authority as the: power of one or a fcw inuiviou<lk
A dosl.:r look will t;how that in a certain scnse it is an 1merse
rdatiom hip; in the final analysis, onc can wggest to people
unly what on thc whole corre~p()nds to the dynamics of their
nccds and intcrcq~, theif cunvictiom and wiU; therefore,
authority bcing psychokgi"Uy induced, orjginatc~ from a group
or commu nity. It may sound paradoxical, but the leader, the
authority, is a slave of tbc group. Indced, chiefs of ancient communitics wt:rc worshipped as gods, but actually were slaves \
of ritual, thcir individual frcedom reduced to almost nil; they
wcrc no individuals but puppet" whosc H ng'> were pulled b)'
thei r cntoural4t:, fulfilling thc ubligawry rites, ThiS i"i another
aspcct of the dialectics of authoritarianism,
In due coursc, authoritarianism split marc frequcntly illto
authority and anti-authority, traditionalism and antitradition:llism, prcstige and ncglect, and this lOt tlnly in conflict~ with
rivals, but intri mically, by it~ nature.
The morc an amhorin' is factually and socially irremov:lblc
the greater its psn:hological weight, Both these aspccts-subject.
h .
"
";:' It
ive anti objccti\c-are dirc..:tlr n::bted. \VI :It .IS:' mJstcr.,
is an authority th.n cannot be remoycd. Its will IS al~to~;ltlc:llly
obligatory, this, in principlc, being equi\;llcllt to unltn~lted SU)4gt:~tion. Thc !lUstcr is cxpressin; of pc(Oun 71lcc ~n~ 1~~~l~l:~,\h
ility. If Ill: can he rcmmct! lIr rcpbccd, or If on.c u)n(eI\C~ 4~~
hint as rcmo\;\hlc Of rcpLh:I.,;\hk, his psrcho~ogH:"1 p{~wcr I ~
..
11,'n'n'
\)f dlOICC who IS morc
shaken, gl\"lllg
r IiKC to t 1
lC "I1H.:(
l~
,
;\ mil stcr, hc or ;l!loth..::,?
.
..
.
(,nl""'t,d
.
.
.
'cntl1Ilr 1 ~\non)m (ll 1
By ":Ilnlrast, (cnh)(r:l(~
IS c.'~. . , ' .. . .. . .. . tis
I
rcmovabil in. DellUlcr;lcy is Cl)llmtel~t With the (JbJCl..t~\,C trcn
. . t hC p~~r.:
1 0100"101 needs ot mouern nun,
.
()f contcmpur;.lf),
htc,
1
:--'
. . . . . . . bT .
while the ancient PS) chic forms ;1fe '.l).rr~];lted \\ IthJI~(I..:m()\.1 I .I~)
,
I . ' . , k<>ltlnUSIll, herc It;U) pu\\cr,
(of sovcrelgns
;tn(
m.lstcr~...,.,
.
. .,m, ;HI'
. t .lll;
. It' , nl " ,nd Iw:r;ud\\.
l IVIl;l s tICI
.
M

),

1-11

Consider now the psychological aspect of ~u(h objct'tivc

hiitorical processes as the assault of the (lc.l!>anb on M.'rfdOll',
Pot. tong time. tjhe majority of Russian peasa nt s (ould not C\l'11
dream of the b41in (landowner) ever being H.'moved . Yt.:t whcll
socio economic development made them rcalise the oppositc, a
Mehle explosion of disobedience followed. The analysis of this
presl is fragmentary as long as its psychologica l aspect is
overlooked.
It is irremovability that accounts for the great psychological
power of the parents: nobody can replace them, their position
in relation to the individual being predetermined once and fo r
aU by the latter's birth. However, that situation is not absolute,
for it may be changed both subjectively and objectivel y: there
is adoption, replacement by step-parents, there mc fatherl ess
children. patricide, renunciation of parents, and particularly the
jn6nite variety of separation by children and parents. Similarly,
the husband was undisputed master so long as divorce (i ncluding
de facto divorce) did not exist. But already in recorded history
the wife's adultery was punishable, indicating not only the
fragility of the matrimonial bond, but also an underlying
psychological opposition to the head of thc family, To combat
his imp?sed authority, one had to make him at least partially
replaceable, if only in thought.
In short. history shows that the concept of irrcplaccability
was always precariously unstable, jeopardising dircct transmi ssion of will in circumvention of thought.
To compensate for this tendency, man created an irrcplaceability of god, a creature beyond the reach of humans. Placed in
the inaccessible sky, immortal. eternally equivalent to him self.
In deep antiquity, however, gods were replaceable in a certain
&eIlIC; [ecaU the history of the victories and defeats of the gods

ill mythological theogony and the fact of polytheism. However,

the coocept of the absolute irreplaceability of a supreme
a':4I+nrity, of a changeless leader, developed gradually along
with the do1!'nfall an~ transformation of the mundanc powers,
GocI of medieval lOC.ety and he of the world religions of our
~ ~~Y ~tianity, compensated for the increasing
~ of mKlhlllOlU aDd earthly leaders. This God ma in~

_lett the buil for the suggestion mechanism, that of

e,ery earthly power, even the small est,
WU ID way
with the unique and immutable divine

1rIiIII._

142

PO,'~':r. The d,.)wIH_1I 01 earthly leadt"fs, however. i~ hound tt,

s,\~(;P aw..ly till'> dlvln" comp_nsalion.
An
'. I psyc I10 Iu')1\. 11
.1 authOrity
f lallllot rest torevcr on th.... ungUla
mt..', t.. "liltlhlll
.. I
'
. that can
0
' . II'
' ~III'"e,tirJO . ()nly tl lOse
e,luers
n:malll
nut
hc [cmo\Cd - !) kadeni ~upp()(t~d hy arm"
I
h
thl.: socio-psch"'
.1 ~, I.C., no unger y
.
}
.Ie ,mce lanlsm but by coercion; 2) leaders drawI~g, o~ thc IOvlOCible forcc of truth, logic, conviction, this beinl-;
(,;ss~ntl~Uy" the ~em~J\'al of authoritarlanism by the consciousne~s
anu SClentdlc thmklng.
The latter is gradually including the knowledge obtained by
people of the laws of human psychic~.
6. ISOU. TlON OF THE PERSONALITY IN COMMUNITV

Social psychology must not confine itself to models with a

mOrc or less homogeneous, uniform social structure, We
destroyed one such pattern when dealing with authority and
authoritarianism, for it is isolation of a personality from the
rcs r of the community. Now, it is pertinent to consider the
matter in a broader context.
As established abo,"e, a homogeneous social en . . ironment,
collective or community can strengthen and thereby comolidatc
motives and actions. In principle, this applies to any action~,
and, therefore, to actions either useful or harmful to societr
In thc former casc, objective laws and trends of progress
benefit from this psychic mechanism, the elementary mechanisms
of social psychology acquiring a common vector with social and
historical laws, This is exemplified, among othcr things, by
workers joining in a strike or by the surge of energy usu;llly
witnessed in soc ialist bbour emulation.
However, the same psychic mechanism may hindcr progrcss i\"c
obectively matu re changes, In other words, its :letton may either
foll ow Or oppose the progress of history,
...
Special examples arc h:trdly needed for thc bttt:!r pos~lbdlty,
being as numcrous as the illustr<-ltions of the fonn~r ~:ltegor~'.
Takc mci;}1 brutality. religious bni-lticism anti sect.trl;\OlSm, and
politi cal obscurantism,.
. " " '. ,
To put it briefly, a psychological pattern milr clther, b~lh~.HC
.
d I I' the l>tter ose the IOnnClblc
or lunder progress, all , ( ear ~, 10

'.
-"
'n"
or
destro\"lno- harncn.
force of histol'v finlIS me;lllS a f ShilttCrJ :.,
; ~, .,'.,
Isolation 0(,111 indi\"idlul or pcrson:l!tty (or a mKfOLlillnuH.
1-13

a small family), we discover, is a fon:c. hin~cring pr(\.~rc~s or,

as it were, the reyerse aspect of contagIOn .lIl a (Ommun lt':
Bourgeois psychologists say that a personality i~nJ a coll cctly~,
an individual and the mass, arc mct.'lphysKally opposed.
They praise individualism and heap scorn .(l." collccti\ i~ m .. ~'(fc
object most emphatically to this countcrposltlon of the Ind ly!dual to the collective and doubly so because eyery coll ective
is composed of indi"~iduals while the personality is, in turn, a
nucleus of social rclations.
For Soviet psychologists nihilism is entirely out of place in
the problem of the individual and the collective. Yet it is wrong
to think that the matter was devised by Western ps ychologists
and sociologists, and should not be discussed by .S?vict sciencc.
We do not regard it as an absolute collnterposltlon. But wc
must probe both the concrete and historically changeable contradictions and the system of special psychic phenomena comprising the aggregate relations between the personality and the
collective.
In special socio-historical conditions need may spur me n to
rise against the community that fetters them, for that is thc on ly
means for self-negation in community. It was this self-ncgation
that assaulted obsolete forms of community and the intern al
relations, replacing them with others suiting the new obj ective
conditions and vital requirements.
The involved relationship between communities and individuals who isolated tbemselves (in one way or another) added
to the complications. Individuals used psychic mechani sms
already known to us: claims to prestige and authority , repudiation of authority, negative attitude towards a community vi ewed
as a "they" group, and, therefore, lining up with some other
"we." But these mechanisms never shaped history: they on I)
paved. the way for objective laws of social being.
Take the example of tbe general changc-over of modes of
production in the course of world history.
Characteristic of the slave-owning system was labou r b) more
or lal
poups of slaves. This was the most efficient wa)
of. uliq slave labour, foe it was impossible to place an overseer
over every two or three slaves. Slaves woeked in more or less
Iarta'
POUPI OIl Ittifundia mines canals roads aqueducts
1.....: ... - .....
..'
"
,
........... PY[.l'!"':', aypu, shcmes. palaces, amphitheatres, circu ses.
~ of. tbc:ir MI'9utai m'lterpiccet .till exist and impress
_....
"
cr
Jodividnd ....
......., Ie11 Steo ng Iy coerced Into
g ro ups,

wac:

Ii"''''

144

less c""I:1\'cd, could nc\'cr have erectcd anythin~ of the kind.

Pro ~rcss ;lnd transition to the feudal mode of production
d ealt il fatal hl,,\\' to largc-group labour, which became a
hindra m:t: , Thl: c . . it IIf !>b\'l:ry Wi\) ~ymbolised hy the small
individual skilled labour of peasants and ,utisans. j!)int. coHec
live labour receded into obscurity in the Middle Ages, for, as
a rul e, even the corvee was performed more or less individually
hy each peasant.
N ot until the end of the feudal period did collective labour
reappear. Ind ividual labour had exhausted its progressive [ole,
new productive forces required joint labour and replacement
of sma ll-scale by large-scale production, not only in the econom ic
sense but also in the context of organisation.
Th~ capitali st mode of production transformed work. in
simpl e co-operation, manufacture and the factories into collcctlve
labour. It rep laced the skilled artisan helped by ~ few apprent ices (who previously widened the range and Improvcd ~hc
qu ality of production) with tho~sands of. labourers workmg
together, bccause individualism In production was ~o longer
revolut ionary and had become. ~~t?ated. Labour 10 Ia~gc.r
groups opened up enticing posstbilltles, tho~gh. no I()ng~r Just
one kind of wo rk done by many, but a combination of different
skills co mpoundcd into a system.
.'
. I
\'Vhat socialism inheritcd from capitalism was the. ~o~La
character of productio n, yet it greatly changed thc orlg<lfntsatt?~
actonc~
of labo ur. \'\Io rkcrs' so I"d"
I amy 10 tcams,.shops. an( d"
_
.
d A nd socia list emulation betwcen worker~ an cn~~r
Increase .
.
ualit. into the socla\ organtsaprises inj ected an ~ntlr~ly new q < 'j
tion of labou r rclat L~nsl~lps.
rms of organisation were
Clcarl y, these obJectlvely necfdcd fo .. of the ps)'choloo), of
~
b
h
sc 0 responscs
.
I:'>
not the crr eet ut t c ca~ I
ld bc absurd to assumc tlt;lt
the indi vidual in a collective. n wou d" p'()sed to collectivism
"
"I '
"by natu re prc IS .
..
the antique s a\ e was
1"1
the
pe'ls'll1t and ;HtI~,ln
k'd n "roups Wl1 C
.
.
f
and, there orc, wo r e I ? ( individualist. AEt..::r a1l, In
of the Middl e Ages was IOnate) d' "'1 workin!7 mlln was a
ork the mC lC\iJ
C'>.
I '"
matters ot hcr t han w ,
k
"Id") ,vitile antlquc ~ ,\\0
"" ( g mars gUI s.
confirmed communa I1St e .. , ' ..:
d "famili;lc".
"'ollegla a n
..
were obviously ascrse to C
b"mpJcs is tit;tt dtffcn: nt
"
db' the a ove ex"
.'
.
I
The sole pomt ma e )
I 'diHcrent V;lr1;lOtS ,lIll
modes of prod uction produce and ~I~~ On) _ even in the cSscnti;11
" d"I\'I(
" I un I-to-group- re .tttO S
structures of 10
labour process.
IO - 1 ~78

What these examples also show is that isolation of . an

individual is merely a form of the break-up ~f a commu OI ty ,
the reverse of community, the latter's self-negatton.
Now take memory, that elementary phenomen on of the
psychology of the personality ("general psychology"), Though
this classical section of psychology has been thoroughly explored ,
new knowledge may be added if it is approached in the ~ontcxt
of social psychology, Strange as it may seem, the emphaSIS th en
shifts from remembering to forgetting.
Not all excitations of the peripheral and central nerve cell s
are retained by the brain of animal or man. Physiologically,
they must coincide with excitation of som~ other ~~oup 0, nerve
cells to produce a new temporal connectIOn; fa!llOg tillS, they
simply fade. Yet not every excitation ~hus impregnated is stor.ed

in the active memory. Most excitatIOns undergo a pecultar

process of forgetting that appears so simple as to require no
explanation. However, proof is lacking that animals, too, possesl the faculty of forgetting in this ordinary human sen se. By
means of hypnosis a human may bc made to remember what
had been transferred to the sphcre of forgotten impress ions.
This proves that nothing is ever lost; forgetting is not losing.
Would this not mean that forgetting is a faculty exclusively
possessed by social man, a kind of blind that helps him be what
he is? This mnemonegativism (amnesia) is part of the psychophysiology of man. Take the process of working out some new
automatic motion. No matter how thorough the training, a
certaio {lumber of failures is inevitable. Professional jugglers
will testify that even a perfectly preparcd cxercise may occasionaUy miscarry. This natural, inevitable and variable margin
of failure is an importaot psychological factor rather than a

breakdown.
Convert this into the terms of social psychology. Repeating a
motion until it is automatic and uncontrolled by the conscio usnell iJ comparable to suggestion. The lattcr, as wc know, stan ds
foe what we have de6ned, as the "we", the "we" concept in its
puiUl, extre"'e form. Self-suggestioD is internalisation of the
.erne thing. A man leaming an art unconsciously obeys a com. .ad. while a failure in his automatism is essentially a repud iatioa. of ugatioo. On the face of it, one has simply " forgot- " ~ ODe !amed, but this forgetting is a molecule of
ICpOO"t'oo, a oucro-rebellion.

. In .thi\ r~spc(t, fnrgctt.ing i\ a purelv human faculty [-orget.

tlng 1\ equivalent to Withdrawal by an individual from ;\

r sychq-vcrhal "y~tcm. from a chorus, frclm a particular 'we". 011
tI~c other hand, relJ~embrance i~ an overcoming of forgetting. "
v lct?r), over forgetting by the second layer of speech, external
or lfit~rnal. II uman memory is a negation of the negation, a
reversIOn on a new basis to automatism and reproduction of
st imuli impregnated in the tissues of the central nervous system.
Th is a pplies equally to involuntary and voluntary rememberin)4.
as well as to visual and verbal. Then, soeio-psychological relations of suggestion, re jection of suggestion, re-establishment (If
suggestion th rough persuasion or consciousness arc the deepest
basis of memory.
L et us now leave the subject of memory and take one lyin~
on the surface of socio~psychic relations: the desire to be liked.
A s Lev T oistoi put it, the wish to be liked and loved is a most
natural one. How to interpret this desire? It is a yearning to
influence others, to turn to one's account the inherent wish of
other people to submit to better influences. The wish to be
liked is a competition for suggestioll, authoritr, power. There
arc many ways of being liked: by rcason or res:mblance or ~f
difference, the cssence being ahvays the formatton of a rudimentary "we". A person stri"ing to be liked by .others retraces
the path from isolation bac~ into the . co~munu;y. However,
this striving may be accompanted by cultlyatlOn of really attractive pcrsonal t raits, or by self~admiration and c?m'pl~ccn~y.
.
The other extreme is self-abasement. EYen If It, IS slaght,. It
contains the above-mentioned search for somebody s benefiCIal
influence, the ability to love others, which Anton Chekho\"
called a natu ral hu man cond ition .
.
I
Of prime practical impo rtance in social psrchology IS kno~
edge of the range of psychological rciatlOns an.d psyc. 0physiological phenomena named emotions and fechngs Wh.IC~l
reflect mutual ties between an ind i\idual and. a. commum~~~
n
uc
Today this is necessa.ry for thc. all-ro~nd
o~. the t~~~~
man the man of the commuOist SOCicty. n .crstan Ing ....
he~omena and knowing their nature is essential to ~'(ecutl\ cd
<
<
d
un ion~ leaders , propagand ists, ,vflters an
P~rty . and tra e
si ht of t WO supplementary aspl:cts of
SCIentists. But do n?t lose gh
h . 1 0ca1
for c\"crr time we
1
0
h I
th SOCial and t c p 'S 10 0
,
.
h
psyc 0 og):: d' ~ d . I' d his emotions we always tlluch un t c
reach. an Ill . 1\ I. u,\ a n h 'siologr of the inll i\" illu;\1 hud,.
matenal hasls, I.e., t llC P )
.

et Jt10

147

146

At the cnd of the prcccdinlt chapter we arri\"cd at the

conclusion that pleasant and unpleasant. rlcihUfC :lod displeasure
ar~ pS~'chological categories drawing on th~ so(;.ll a~p~c.t of. the
question: their deep roots arc in the UtllY~r~;1I. dl\"lSIOn mto
"we" and "they", or into phenomena (onsohdJ.tlOg or dcstnniog the "we". The dualism of feeling sprin~s from social
dualism, aJthou~h processes in the body arc not inherently

antipodal.

Widespread dual division of human feelings, such as sympathy

and antipathy, love and aversion, compassion and callousness.

come under the head of dualism. They arc different expressions

and shades of the same division of the human environment
into "we" and "the)'''. But as we go deeper into the compl ex
world of human feeling and emotion, the clarity of thi s duality

f.des.

l
./(

From times immemorial psychologists divided human emotion

into three fundamental categories: fear, love and anger, with
all other feelings seen as ramifications of these three. We shall
deal with wme later.
At this time. let us discuss the other extreme, i.e., the physiological aspect. Here again there are traces of a dual mechani sm
related not to the division of phenomena into pleasam and unpleasant but into activating and inhibiting the central nervous
system.
We have seen that the worker in the shop. the pupil in th e
classroom. and an athlete in a stadium show greater energy tha n
when alone, this fact reflecting physiologically a higher tone of
the central nervous system. At prescnt, science knows of the
speeial histological formation, reticular, of the central part of
the myelencephalon, pons, mesencephalon, thalamic area a nd the
median part of the optic thalamus, which aCCount for the tone
?f t~e nerve cen~res and cells of the entire brain. Thi s system
IS hl8hly responSive, along with other stimuli, preci sel y to the
human factor, the human milieu. The toning up action is general rather than speei6c: resourcefulness, endurance and cour~ become gteater "in public", As the pro,"crb goes, "tWO in
dllbU. makes sorrow less". Even sorrow lessens when there is
company, Watching a public speaker, actor soldier or athlete
totacd up by the environment, we see that' their beha,' iour is
dlPNclit OIl the general degree of brain activit)" and therefore
.......
..
,ulence of other people, whICh
mflucnces the reticu lar
fonuda. (ADd possibly the non-specific nuclei of the thalamu s)
0

148

,
\

and. the. lkri\'ati'"c

.
ormatiOn
on spe(lai
. _ " . action Ilf this. n"ef\()US f
b ram centre .. actl\ ated at some spcciNc moment.
~ut how docs the human factor affect the
.d f
.
which
con"
\.
b'
. . _
sal
ormatIOn
...
a s tam actIVI','
.
."
_. " 1m".
t\on-t he provocative
effect
of th~ sur~()undtng people, their mimics and gestures, plus such
means of tnfluence as applause or booing, and above al\ their
~ords,.. ma y ac~ as condition~d stimuli. For example. the indi'ldual s name IS
.
. a stronp." .stlmulan, . A, ,,meS, a s \
eepmg
man
wakes up the IIlstant hiS name is uttered, though he did nOt
react ~() other wo~ds. --:'-t sports events fans encourage their
fa.vourlte by S.houtlng hiS name. The group name (that of a
tnbe, community, team) is also a strong activator. The history
of wars shows that battle cries, including the conventional
" Hu~( ~h!" or "Banzai!" have an "intoxicating" effect; they arc
W ndltlOned reflexes, extremely powerful stimuli of the reticular
formation and theteby of the cortex. The effect may be either
a strictly specific kind of excitation or a more or less general
one, sp reading in the subcortical areas of the brain and known
as emotion or a fit.
Of no less importance is Ametican phYSiologist Pribram's
hypothesis of the existence in the median part of the brain of
a formation go\"ern ing the discontinuance of an activity as soon
as a desired result is attained. This is a kind of "stOp" device,
capable of checking, pattly or entirely, an activity predominant
at the given moment. It is safe to assume that actions, gestures,
mimics, words by the surrounding people may serve as conditioned stimuli for this system as well. Such words as "no"
ha" e a g reat automatic power formed in early childhood.
Expressions of censure belong to the same class of restraining
factors. Sometimes the conventional stimulus is not a word, but
a reproachful look, a d isdainful facial exp.res~i~~, the p~inting
of a finger. These may suffice to cause an IIlhlbltl Ve reactton of
the central nervo us system.
.
.
.
ll ere we:: arc dea ling with emotions controlling relations bc
tween the individual and the community.
To illu strate the point, take the importilnt phenomenon of
" same
h
.
. .
For a long time psychology reg~rded it as. one of the \"~~r,I~~Ie::S
of fear a fear of cemun: by Ct.:rtJ.ln people, I.C., fC;1r of rq~<.tllln
from< til~ir ~ct, from the ;'w:::" in punishll1~n.t h!r an.oth:.nCl.:.
Plato saw tWO kinds of fear: trembling in antlClpat~on ot a dls.:',.
d. e f;1n1<\(100,
.
.I. e ., doing or 'S;WlnL:
ter, and dreadtng
. . somethln~
O.

149

bed. This latter is shame, Aristotle defined sham e as fear of

":[1 oppu~itc

dishonour, an unpleasant feeling related to an nil a ct brin ~ing

ill fame.
In other words, shame stems from the, apprchension o r awareDess of the unacceptability of some action by others. T hus, in

the remote times a subordinate person experienccd shyness, fear

of scorn, censure, mistreatment, in almost every intercourse with
$uperion, Particularly strong, at times, even pr.imary, is the apprehension over one's appearance: faclal, extenor, clothes, mannen. Shame may control action and the spoken word.
The shamefulness of deeds derives from the type and tradit ion
of the specific community. For a gang of thieves stealing is not
shameful. In different times some tribes made only the men
cover their bodies. while other tribes required the women to d o
so. In ancient Rome, matrons undressed in the presence of male
slaves, while ashamed of men of their own standing. Noblemen
and aristocrats were ashamed of poverty or manual work, wh ich
put them on the same level with persons of inferior standing.
In pre-revolutionary Russia it was considered unbecoming among
the ruling classes to show anger publicly against children o r
adults of the same social set; sharp words and fits of temper
were perfectly right, however, if directed against serfs, workers,
subordinates. Exclusive aristocratic circles, "respectable" people, considered acting a disgraceful profession, while aristocratic
ways were in disfavour among actors.
Displays of shame may be caused both by public censure a nd
excessive praise, insofar as either breaks the subject's tie with his
"we", It is embarrassing to take ilie floor at public -meetings,
to attract attention. for one then opposes oneself to others.
Shame is of many shades and gradations. It is onc of the
finest devices exercising a permanent control over social behaviour, set off by doubt as to a person's belonging to the "we"
group.
!his fear.springs from certain physiological vascular and vegetatt.ve !ea~t1o?s. and a~ once from the historically developed
~':4l~ ~nstttutto?S and 1dC?io,gy. Physiologically, depressive and
mhiblttve emotlOns prevall 10 shame. But shame is neither
physiological nor ideological in essence; it is a psychic mechanism
thro~ .which society controls individuals. Shame may denote
~cpnvatlon of ~, pe~son of his social prestige, a threat of expul110? from the
we gr.oup, !1egativlsm directed at the person,
..hich shows the educattonal Importance of social psychology.
ISO

phcno.mcnon no less important in the eyes of

~o('la l psych~logy .IS pn~e. This emotion also rests on a phy~iol{Jg.
Ica~ foundatt.on (tncl~dtng the neuro-vegetative) and on the his
ton cally .vanable SOCIal order. Pride in the results of his work
~cforc Ius. fcHo~ workers was typical of the craftsmen at all
urnes. It IS. a dlr~ct enhancement of prestige, and in members
o f communIst socIety it is a fundamental trait of the labour
psychology; pride in work according to onc's ability, to the
full extent of one's ability.
M ethod s provoking shame or pride arc import:1nt in cducating
children and adults, individuals or groups. Honour, ambition,
praise, recompense, fame, disapproval, censure, envy, enthu~iasm
and rivalry arc important elements of the science of social psychology as a w hole, helping to impart new labour and behav ioral
traits in men of the new communist society.
Let us mention also modesty related both to shame and pride.
It lies in a plane different from shyness and diffidence. Modesty
symbolises absence of any breach by the individual of the unity
or uniformity of a group. On the contrary, it brings out this
unity sharply. Modesty is renunciation of claims to uniqueness
or authority. In fact, modesty is antagonistic to authority (discussed in section ~ of the present chapter) and merits a thorough
investigation. Modesty is sure to playa big part in the. psyc~o
logical (eadiness of man to put into effect th~ commumsc pnnciple of distribution of material wealth accordIng to need.
In inter-person relations an important part belongs to such
emotions as tenderness, derision, anger. The two l~tter arc
emotions ex press ing repudiation, rejectio.n, threat of pUDlshment.
Laughter, generally speaking, is a rea<;tlOo t? ~ brcach of, co~
ventional norms, including those of IO?lc~l thl~ktng. I:I0we-..:cr, I~
non-observa nce is prcmeditated and Ill-tntentlOned, It provokcs
anger not laughter.
.
. d
An' er ma be causcd by opposition to our goals, by I~gratltu e,
bctraY~"11, ne~ect or insult ..It foilo,:vs that ao.ger-pro\,oktng factors
are associated with somethtng outSIde and ahen. . n"cr Aris0
Social conditions tea~h how to ar~u~~\:[t~c~~r~~~~ ~n :1.~dicnce
tode developed a detaded theory 0
d self-control suffice to
.
goo
manners
an
d S " 6t of anger leaves a
to anger. Sornet lmCs,
f anger ornctlmes,...
f
k
b
che~k an out re~ 0
: f Sometimes it takes the form 0
feehog of vexatIon and gne..
. Decnt persons Repressed

ted against LOn

impotent fury, 0 f ten d ICec
f
d [lge .
.
L
d it turns to ury an
.
anger lS hate. oosene.
151

The palette is then rich. An~e~ i!i c:ssentially. a mean s ~~ int~~

midation or coercion and a reaction to somct.hlnl!; o~ t~e they
in the beha"iour of another man. UnderlYing thiS I S a deep
physiological mechanism of ch~n~c during .. a ~t of anger ~f the
secretory acti"ity of the orgaOl!im and e,,"utatlon of the s} m?athetic department of the nernlUS !iystem. Howev~r . mo re .Important to social psychology is that anger ~an be Imitated, I: C.,
rendered through exterior symptoms, without corresponding
physiological shifts in the orga~ism; and c.an b~ suppressed and
controlled in the presence of violent phYSiologICal changes. The
!'ame applies to all other emotions.
.
At a certain stage it seemed that psychology ma~e a big step
forward to Darwinism and materialism by transfer[1ng the question of the essence of emotions from experience to the expression of emotions. According to James and Lange, the essence
of emotion is a change in respiratory and heart activity and in
vasomotor and diaphoretic processes, coupled with humoral and
endocrinal variations. Later, the focus shifted to chang~s in the
sympathetic nervous system and the thalamic department of the
brain. But the psychologists of this school directed most of their
attention to facial and other locomotive expressions. In the end ,
however, this school merged with behaviourism (a psychology
without psychics, describing acts of behaviour only). Thus, Watson writes: "An emotion is a hereditary 'pattem-reaction' involving profound changes of the bodily mechanism as a whole,
but particularly of the visceral and glandular systems."1 Beh aviorists adhered to a purely biological view of emotions considering them neurosomatic adaptations to conditions and changes
in the environment.
A significant advance, credited to Dumas, a French psychologist and physiologist, was the speci fic delimitation of what environment was .primarily meant. 2 While also seeing emotions as
external, phYSiological, manifestations, Dumas focussed his attention chiefly on mimicry (considered a means of socia l intercourse
between people) which he believed inherent in humans not
animals, d,is~greeing on this count with Darwin. Accordi~g to
Dumas, mimiCry (and gestures) stems from the environment and
is a means of adaptation to it. Man acquires from the surrounding people conventional patterns and stereotypes for expressing
t

j. Watwn, Psycbolo,y from tbe S/QI,dpO;1I1 of Q BebQviorist, Phib-

delphia aod London, 1914, p. lIS.

2 G. Duma" US i"atiOllS. Paril, 19J7.

162

j(!y, an~er, fear, ho.pe, which may" yary, depend in/-: on the 1 ~i:ll
Circle , st ratum, .na.tHmal group. Thi~ applies to "vocal mimiu\""
also, for ~;\n Imitate\; the intonation, timbre and intcnsitv of
speed, (whIch blend its semantic and emotional aspects) of hi ..
teacher .. and companions.
Thu s, according to Duma<:, facial and vocal mimicr\" is imitation of col\ective patterns. Even mimicry- which ma~ inherited
from hi s prchuman ancestors, is styled along patterns s()ciall~
changeable through education and imitation, so that, even when
alone, a man manifests his emotions as if for others and like
others.
While on the subject, it ma~ be pertinent to note that subsequent investigations showed the relative poverty of the physiological aspect of emotions as compared with their social and
psychological aspect. Emotions spring hom various conflicts in
the nervou s activity. Difficult states of the nervous system or
unsolvable socia-psychic conflicts provoke "non-adequate" types
of reactio ns (manifcstcd as locomoti\"c and vegetative phenomena) in subcortical centres and area!i. However. for all the
numerous va riants, these phenomena are less diversified than
human emotions.! In other words, human physiological mechanisms of emotion are fewer in number rhan psychic emotions.
Therefore , their greater multiformity should be attributed to
their social character.
.
Let us point out that Dumas's psychology of emotlo.n~ has
greatly clarified the subject of the i.nhcrently human abilIty t~
manifest emotio ns not actually expenenced. The. centre of ~ra,
ity shifts to the signal implications of the expressIOn. of .e,:"otton.s.
These arc regulators of the social conduct of the l~dl\"ldual ~n
relation to the environment and of that of the envIronment .10
relation to the individual, regulawrs of the complete or partIal
belonging of the individual, to the "wc" , . ' .
In this respect the d eparture from DarwiO .was a progresS1\~
one. Prior to Dumas, human mimicry and ~I~dr~dd p~eno~~c~~
d
d
h ' act of Dan\.'ln s eas.
were Interprete un cr. t. e ~mp'f
. Is onh in the coo1the context of man's onglOanng rom aOlma,
.

.
. '.r--I,J.".lni,c
"tnckli,n,kh
"".
.
I A N Leo",'c'
1 J\
R. l. uny,. :Jn~
. 1..
...
f Objc(\i\"c S,mpl"m,
of
,
,
'I
.
ktii
dlllC,u:.;:.ItL"il
"
.
hI
'1mptonw\" ,11 c tlnl~ 1 re.1 ,
. fIiio /(J~" .PH' effiS " f
.
. . " rr.,bft'IIJI sunt. "no,

:\lfccUI c

Rl',lltlt'lh ;

,c~

.\iudcrn P"d\OI,))!~ \ :'tll~""'" 1<)!6...

:!

Ch.lrlc' D.Hwin. 1 h xp,,.<.'1fJ1I

London, Ill".!.

153

bt- Em! tiom n .\I.m ~ /. .\mnuU,

I

a p i cMwously chosen from many potentially poss ible on("s

aad, &,.lIy. towards a goal set indepcl1dendr b)' thc indiy idua l' s
me psychology of thinkins; is organically rclatc:d to
possibly, it springs from it.
TIae guatc:r
number of "we" intersecting in ;.tn indiy idu al
aDd the gtcater the number of boundaries between " we" a nd
""they .. the less is there space for blind. half-conscious impul ses
and O'utOtions, the greater the importance of thinking. It is not
limply because the "we" are so many. The numbcr of these
itllua:o::ting communities is bound to include onc concci"ed as
the '"whole people". When this community is seen clearly by the
Ml1usness, the individual hesitates no longer: for thc fir st
Ijli< be 6nds at his command an unequivocal criterion of selection: a general proof or, in other words, a scientific proof.
AU preceding history was just a road leading to this situation.
H~, gen~ proof is still a long way from sci zing on th e
minds and feelings of all the people on earth eyen in our time
0IlC of scientific and technological achievements. This is becau s~
msokiad as a whole is still a long distance away from rcorpaiJing its social order on a rational scientific basi~ .
Co+"iiOunist education and wbimunist consciousncss will be
iBIeparabIe from. the triumph in man of conscious collectivism
ComrAdeship and brotherhood may be visualiscd as a rctu ([~
of the person into the human community after ages of isolati on
IIDd efl'ot" to oppose the "I" to the "we".
The futility of absolute individualism has been explained
A man does not exist separately from "we" groups. E ven
. . . . I be only ---or d lSAgrees
"
" coursc of
WI"th a certam
~C:1f5 '!. he adheres momentarily to an agreeing "we" group
'kh II OJtP?sed to the disag1ecing "they", or vice versa, That
~ ~l:'n
,of human '~I psychology will probabl y
-.liU'
~7
If hi8hly dynamiC communist societ): no on c
WIll ''''I' e
Imse oppo'
ybod
-.... berm!
;, of
~
,?~munities will incrcas~7
.
. . . ., Ie gIO
I PI bo e-mlDdcd locilvlduals . A "wc "" group
...a..:!1L.t:_ Pof"ue .~iOIe w
have looc:eeded in seeing, say, the pass
- -_
-59rim'
a ...
e!W'"tbey:
fg or on the contra
" "
_
will
ry, an error to Its dc~ tb0ac: w~ have yet to bc
.......,. ..;;;:. """'tiona will evidently stem from
~...... ill~ ~ IIndbecr~.nding, for the less under""--"---.-_ ..... ::IU
II to the primitive "thev",
----........
a - 'hI,
.

",e.

==

:U
h'

............ ic:.-

Ii,:g

r,

Cha/J/cr I U
SOCIAL

PSYCHOLOGY AND GENETIC PSYCHOLOGY

1. THE HISTORy OF COHSCIOUSHESS

Whcn setting out Lenin's views on spontancity and consciousn~ss (Chaptcr I, Section 2). we said they arc ~Ot only at twO
d~ffere~t levels,. but also oppositcs. This rcveals the profound
dlalc~t1ca l c~n fl l ct between social psychology and idcolog\', a
confltct d cscnbablc as a split in social consciousness or, in ~thcr
word s, a unity and the stru~glc of opposites.
This being the case, we must look back and sec what is
spontaneity ("instincti"cncss", according to Lenin's s\no",'mou~
exprcssion) that occurs so frequently i~ socio-psychol;)gica'\ phenomena.
Spccific ro spontancity is a lack of criticism and understanding
which , in the ex trcme, becomes unconsciousness. Marxist social
psychology docs not confine itself to studying extreme (unconsCiOllS, irrational, alogical ~ phenomena in masscs or groups of
people, which attract the attention of Wcstcrn psychologists.
Howcvcr, we can not afford to ignorc thesc phenomena either,
for they arc esse ntial in elaborating theory,
Wc repeat : it is wrong to build a Chinesc wall between spontaneous and unco nsc ious socia-psychic phenomena, on the one
hand, and consciousness, on the other. Wc dissociate ourselves
from Wcstern "psycho-sociologists" who contend th;lt only those
"cognisant" of t hc scc rcts of unconscious ps~chic phenomcn.a can
rule thc crow d, T he purposc of Ma rxist social ps~chol()g:~ IS not
to oppose the subconscious psychics of a commu01t)' ~o the conscious psyc hics of its constitucnt indi"idua ls, but to gl\'C thc bt
ter an awarcness, an understanding of the mental proCl.',~es
specific to masscs , groups and communities .of people,
Would thc soc ialist cmulation weakcn If e,'c~y workcr ,lod
I, sC
. hool d'lYS
WIth the
clem!.'n
pcasant wcrc acq ual"OtCd f rom car)
. ' .
.'
.
" l laws un d cr I"
tarr psvchologlca
\lOg t e."1 n1work;:'
. ' SlOce It I~.. (",lSl!.'r
' ,
for a ;ci\chcr to impart knowledge and IdeJs to rurd~ In .1
\57

ro:

than to each of them separately, wh :lt harm would come

his drawing their attention to ,that .fa ct? Let the collccti\'c
werful educational mcdlUm- lmp.)[ t respect for thQ

po
am",
vince that .tudies human psychle s mue I1 :IS me(I
ICIOC studies
human diseases.
.
We should Dot fear a scientific diSCU SSIOn ?f the concept "uoconsciow" for the phenomena and mechani sms of social psychology ~y be largely described as ioyo!un tary, unwitting,
spontaneous. That the "unconscious" is not fi ctio n but rcal is
easy to understand if only by mean s of the wel l-known fact
that one may know and remember something, t hen fo rget it,
i.e. remove it from consciousness, then remember it again. i.e.,
ret;ieve it from the unconscious. Obviously, the word " unconscious" need not be understood in the specific Freud ia n sense.
Yet Freud's psychoanalysis contains an clement of fai th in the
power of the human mind: the conviction that the "unco nscious"
in every man can be imparted to his consciousness by sc ientific
analysis. In this scnse, social psychology must also ex pl ain some
of the subconscious factors governing spontaneo us human behaviour in a group or community in order to make these factors
known, appraisable, predictable and controllable.
The nature of the subconscious and the spontaneous may be
traced through the historical changefulness of the psychics. The
opposite phenomenon-logical thinking or scientinc knowledgeis esleDtially uniform in the various civilisatio ns and cultures
known to history, the content of the knowledge and the thi nking
being the only variables. By contrast, the world of sponta neous,
.ubconscious or unconscious socio-psychic phenomena appears to
be infinitely changeful, almost elusive in its multiformity. I t is
AI if human nature is not one and the same essence, but inexhau.tible in its plurality,
~n Western psychology the school of Ignace Meye rson , the
etDlOent French psychologist, was deeply interested in th is. It
contended that social history causes continuous changes in hu man
nature.
The essence of this approach is best described by M eyerson
hjmld.f: "Analysis of the behaviour with the use o f historical
~ktdp,ngn the ~ychologist's perspective. The psychologist

I
...,..1 not W1th an abstract man but with one belonging
to ~c'fir ~try and a 'peeiSc time, bound by social a nd
h
coodl ",!' of his time aod dealing with people who also
DB to 8 lpeafic country and time. Therefore. a field of

=-

psy(holo~i,al
inve~tigation
exists wh,chIS hIS t OIlca
. I
h
..
h
.
10 c aracter
bU t serves as a new.
1 I i creates new difficulties in
OJ'
. p'ycholo~
source 0 f knowlcclge."l
~eycrson'.s. h~storic~1 psychology devotes itself to studying
actions, .deeds . tnclu~hng the work of people, and, particularly,
to studymg thclr achievements as the chief source of facts. Howcver, !"1~yerson kept a safe distance between himself and vulgar
mat('[Jalism, He showed th;lt the direct influence of labour tech4
~ iquc on int.eUc~tual developmcnt, especially in prehistoric time~,
IS beyond sCientific reconstruction.
Meyerson's historical psychology is viewed with respect by
Soviet psychologists.:.!
It is fruitfully applicable in ethnography and archeology (as
it considers human achievements the chief source in cognising
psychics) and to studying ancient, medieval and modern history.
Regrettably, in most cascs Meyerson lacks the scientific approach
in dealing with history, objective sociological laws of development, and the causes and effects in social life. However, contributing to a pcriodical edited by Meyerson are a number of Marxist historians, among them A. Soboul. This is perhaps indicative
of the possibility that this psychological school may yet shift to
historical materialism. So far, however, this has been nothing but
a scientific potentiality.
Along with the name of history-oriented Ignace Meyerson,
mention should be made of Jean-Pierre Vernant, a historian
interested in social psychology, ancient Greece being the main
su bject of his studies. Vernant is a Marxist. His. knowledge of
A ncient Greece helped the development of malO concepts of
his torical materialism, the sttess being laid on the problem of the
personality in history. It is wrong, according to Vernant, to consid er a psychical trait as constant and unchang.eable thr?ugh?ut
a person's life. In man everythi ng chan?es :vlth the hl~~o[lcal
context. "The individual himself is a hlsto[lcal product a~d.
acco rdingly, all fruits of man's activity, al~ literary and rnatenal
values, testifying to human psychical functions, may serve as the
1 Ignacc Mcycrson, LeI FOflC';Ollf prJ,boiogiqllu et leI oeuvrer, Paris,
'94 8 , p. 1 J.
..

. h k'
'khologii
' 0 M T , n'an "Pro,rcssivniye tendentsu v IstorlC es '01 pSI
.

II II J
'

I p .. I I
of I~na~e
Ignasa Mcyersona" (Progrcssive Trends In HiStOrLOl
~)( \0 ogy.
b.
.
.,.,.
..
6 N
pp 118-'..\ "OsnovnlYc ra ot)
Meyerson), VoproJ)' l'sliOUJologll, 19;, o. 5, h , ~ , ." 1 ... , (6,,,,
.
1d
1.
,. "'I( CS 01 p". \0 Ogll
.
I. Meycrson" I ycgo po, C O\",ltC CI po ~.
.
., V
s.
Works of 1. i\lcyer~ou and Iii .. S~hool nn HI~lOrL,al P-;ycholngy.
ofro )
l'sikl)(J!ogii, 19(,5. No . ..\, pp. 190-<)1.

159

ISS

primary sources in the study of the hi st;Hicll p~Hholngr of ao

h including the psychology of labour:
_
.
~ it). that Vernant is conccc?cd .11I'lIn l~' \\ lI h .h<.' plTson;lht\
ra thccp t han SOCI"ct )." althouoh
roo hlstoru.:;t!
. p~'l
' holl 'g.\_
. dl:\dopln,l.:
I
chiefly or even exdusi,'c1y in France. IS do~c to 'OLI,\ pl>\chulogy. the twO being kindred currents .
.....
.
Let us t to convert the concepts of ,rhl.: 111~to r lLal C\Olutlon

of the per70nality, or the

indi~~du:ll.

IOto

th e terms of the
....

general theory of psychic commu~ltles. .

The evolution of a personahty starts through Its ~bsOrptl.on
of the elements of the surrounding world . A persona li ty Or Individual was originally a monolyth as compared to the pcr~on
ality or individual in the contemporary ~cnsc. o~ ~hc wo ~d .. LcvyBruhl showed in a special article that m prlmltivc SOCletles the
notion of individual could not be dissociated fro m his possess ions,
trappings, utensils. dwelling. clothcs. landed property an.d
domestic animals; similarly he could not be separated from hiS
geographical environment, his relatives, .or . hi s na me. T o har~
some part of his environment was to mAlct a wo und on hiS
body. In other words, the "I" was so extensive as to be a lmost
non-existent. In the course of time thc boundaries between the
personality and the environment narrowed, and the re appeared
the "I" (as well as "he" and "thou") . Was thi s an immanent
process of self-developmem? No, it is traceable to the development and complication of human relations, primaril y material
relations: delimitation of adjacent territories and co rresponding
economic rights, and proliferation of various form s of a li enation
and appropriation of individual material components of the foemer "I", such as gifts, transfers, replacements. In primeva l times
these acts were chiefly internal, confined to groups or tribes; yet
tbey were, so to speak, stripping the individual of the va rio us
scales that had. covered him. Not the self-development o f prim itive thin~ng into modern, as Levy-Bruhl conjcctured, but growth
of the alienation and appropriation of things gradually str ipped
the human personality bare. Similarly, in remote times an indi vidual passi~g from one age or tribal group to another had had
to change .his name: the old personality disappeared and a new
one took Its place (the cogtinuity, if any, being expressed onl y
t~u~ the few pawn,_ belongings). Increased inte rgrou p
diffUSion finally led to relative weakening of the name as an
I

A lhon: oudine of V _ '

J. J. Goblor

" Hist.oUe

_I _ '. ~.Oi

...

Biven recently In an a rticle by

a IIqlo NIosie I.. Pml6e. 1961, No.

1110

114.

inalit:nahk ttrihutc of a pc. on.lity. Although

1 Inttiation.
m.lrriagl.:, t:1l\lavemC"lt, ldoption, 01 mi 6 ration
man p.. ncd
'\-'ith hi'J fonmr naml <lnd with t with his :tttirt: hm sty c ami
tattoo, utcn\ils ;lnd we pon , h(" rcm_ined his own self. /)1 more
specifically, this emancipatl'JO frlJm external attributc~ made him
gradually "his own scJf". At a still latcr stage, a person', identity was reduced to the naked body and the continuity of memory
and comcinusness. In this sen~e the classical ancient slave W,H
far more a personality than the primitive ~avagc, However, a
naked body is not the same a~ the unchangeable 'T'; a man can
lose his lcgs, hands, ears and other parts of the body; when
he transferred from onc social echcJon to another, the practice
was to pull a tooth, to circumcise or to mutilate him, ju~~ as in
more recent times rebels had their nostrils torn. The bodf IS then
no longer a reliable characteristic in the complicated ~ovcment~
between the "we" and "they" groups, and [hc evolutlo~ of the
personality concept rejects it. The essence of a personality th~"
shifts to the "internal I" or "internal essence". Only. at thl~
stage, finally, the personality beco~es .ide?tih.ed . \\:ith I,ts own
self ; a genuine "I" emerges, glorymg m Its mdlnduahty and
uniqueness as a microuniverse.
..
'
/
H owever this subjective side of the hlstotlcal format1o~ of
\. the personality becomes reduced to a human interchange: thlll~~
interna l intimate, subjective, stcm from t~e phcnomenon ot
sec recy: i.e" concealment, dissimulation or, III other words., restra int imposed on the final links in the cause-~~d-e~ect cham of
behaviour. One cannot by oneself bare to a they. Tbere apcars what the Russian naturalist I. M. Scchenov named a cu~~
~ailed refl ex or subvocal speech, inner mo,ement, thought. ThIS
..
,.
purd)' social phenomenon: the surconcea I ment IS m ongln a
fbi
d
eo Ie are considered or at best s~spected 0 . c o~~
~o un 109
P" i e suspected of dissimulation, When I)olatln~
mg to a t ey , .. ,
h .
I 'mary "wc
h' mself a man as if withdraws fro?, a c Olr. an. e cmt.:. ' ... I.
I
Thus development of the mner worl.d 1R. pcr~ons IS a s~
group..
'h nge interchange of great sOClologlcal Import"nce,
human Interc a
,
f h
,
bjcct to evolution abreast 0
lstor~.
,
,
h
1Rt~~tc~n;hee spuersonality sheds its many envelopes,. its chid fu~~~
.
'.
ce of "c(ions, Suppressing an actlOn IS the p~e~l~c
urn ~rl C~?lce the personality is continuously mak~n.~ deCISIon.;,
o WI. m
h bitin~ 'lction" the will is charactctlstl.: of a per
allow,ing ~ proh Ie
decis\on imply preliminary doubt, that
C
sonah~y . . ut b , 01.':.
I)O~"ible alternatiyc~. Then, f()[;1
is hC~lt;1tl0n et\\ cen twO
'

,Ph

';nd

11-1978

161

"

moment or a longer time, the indi,-idua l ill' longs tn two " we"
groups, while con ~ idc ring them p(lt cnt i;~II " "thcy" . .'l:his . is .1
subjective refl ection of the fnct that \" ;U IO U ~ communltH.'S Intermixed and overlapped on an increasing sCll c :lS history pro
gresscd. The personality is moulded historically to the extent to
which different " we " groups intermarry, and has to choose be
tween theif commands. The reverse formul a, however, is also in
3 way true ; " we " groups increa singly ove rlap as the personality
is moulded historically. In a caste society, interm ix ing of com ~
munities is practised less and the personality is v irtuall y level
with the community.
To sum up. the concern of historical psychology is not the
formation of the personality, but rather the cross-section of its
various stages, which permit to uncover the qua lita ti ve specifics
of human psychics.
There is evidence of a variety of approaches in F rench h istorical psychology-from A. Dupront who attempted to create
a Freudian historical collective psychology, to R. M a nd rou who
endeavoured, following in the footsteps of Lucien Febvre, to
paint a comprehensive psychology of the French society of the
16th and 17th centuries.
The only point of note is that historically oriented psychologists discovered not only variety but also plurality in the manifes~tions of human psychics. It is as if these phenomena , u nlike
manifestations of scientific and logical thinking, cannot be red uced
to a common denominator. They are sometimes called "culture",
at least in the antithesis of "culture" and "science" .
~ its proper sense culture is not identical to psychology. But
s~l~1 psychology may be described as one of the a spects of
spmtual culture, or at least contiguous to it: tastes habits customs, the traditional turns of speech, expressions' o f em~tion,
etc., are related both to the spiritual culture and the social
psychology of a community. That is why monuments of culture
serve us as ~urces in the study of psychology. On the whole,
~Jture and Ideology intersect and interpenetrate log ica l th in k11lI. on the ODe hand, and the subconsciou s socio-psychologica l
procesres, on the other.
00~rdiny)y. culture as seeD by a historian has two aspects.
e IS the development of science and technology a p rocess
~:~~ to aU mankind, which rejects emotionalism' to onc or
aWUUtcl"
" " crea ti"ve work
of extent
. ' Dot the em0 ,,"0 naI"Ism 0 f SCientific
or
new ideas, of course, but by acknowledging th at truth and

162

ll~cfulne,'l ;lrC Cmotif)fl1css and

h" d B
"
I
I
.
.
un 13.~C.
v contrast
t
I"
ginn ;1I11 ct lH:~ Implv emotionart
d'
' . ar, rc 1extreme. III other wfJr~h. rationai I~ ~. ani I ~rka.vltatc. tn the lither
. . I
Jglta t lin 109 milltat .. a"a
some punu p C Uppfhitc in nature to the
. <';' ." 1I~~1
R ationa l logica l thinking can eithe
f prm:c~sc to the bral~.

oppositl! princi ple .

All

r ex tOgul~

or subdue thl~

can
say. therefore
is that thOa opposite
. pnnclple
..
.
.
...
.
,
.
I,
I nssoelatcd With the sphere ',f emot"
n ot on}
h
" . I I ,..
...
IOns ut compnrahlc
to ratlOl1.) ugle and logical cognition as a co
I"I
.
.
ncept
w llC 1, to usc
I
t Ile ~l~t Icmat lcal voca~ulary, posscsses an opposite l>ign. Th is i~
preCisel y what ethnologists mcan by "pre-logical"' thO k"
II "
"
d
'

'
III Ing.
(m"
ever, t IlIS ncgatlve efiOltlon is as insufficient as fo "
"
" I " "
., r tOstance,
t h. e pre-capita 1St or pre-feudal" constructs coined by histon ans. One should know the nature of this phenomenon; it is
not cnough mcrely to say that it preceded another, known
phenomen on.
W I!

2. THE PROBLEM OF PRE-LOGICAL THINK ING

We said in Chapter III that the science of social psychology

t races its rock bottom physiological and psychological sources to
the lowest echelons of social intercourse, i.e., the mechanisms of
m utual influence by speech, mimicry, gesticulation and expres.
sions of emotion.
This docs not mcan, howe"er, that the fundamental mechanisms of intercourse were an ideal mould for logical thinking from
the beginning of time. The history of languages shows that they
gradually adapted and modified to fulfil their funct ion bettcr in
man 's cognition of the objecti"e world. In the earlier stages,
language was a s yet unsuited for this purpose, because its main
fun ction w as different: it was the ,-ehicle whereby people in
flu cnced each other.
Neither physiology of thc higher nervous activ ity nor semiotics
(the sciencc of sign systems) ha"e as yet penetrated the secret
o f the origin in man of the second signal system in the process
o f a nthropogcnesis: how and why spccifically human signs (signa ls, symbols) c,'olved out of the signs and signals whereby
a nimals recogni se things. To a dog the ringin.g of a ?el.I may be
feeding signal causing its glands to sec:et~ saliva; a Similar ,~cflc~
ca n be conditioned in man, but substitutiOn of the word bell
then p roduces the same effect. As a rule. the sounds or thl! word
havc nothing in common wi th the sounds of the hell or Sllmt:
n'

d eSlgn
. ated by the word (the illusion

otber lDstrument
b'
,of an
'
. 1a d es as we compare the names an 0 Jee t l,B In
onomatopoeia
the dillent languages).
, ,
h
,
'
One mayad vance the v,'ew though cautlous
. y.h t at t I e b'Sin gularity of these specificaUy human sign~ls IS t at any 0 Jeet
or real characteristic possesses at least twO ,lflterchangcablc speech
' ...... 1
-Lj h' ti6es their being called signs or symbols. Co uld
515 .....S' WILL JUS

1
d " h ";>
this be tied up with the old human duality 0 we an
t cy .
Probably it could. but we are still unable t~ say how.
Prevailing in the most ancient human sign systems arc ~h c
functions of mutual action of men on each oth~r .. The fun,ct lOo
of cognition appeared at a later stage. Th~ P!~dlglOus plenItud e
of facts gathered by ethnol~gists a,mo,ng ,primitive peoples sometimes described as "pre-logical thlOkmg pwbably corresp?nd s
to the epoch of the relative disharmony of th~se two functl.ons,
to the time of the inadequacy of speech as an Instrument chi efly
of cognition and thinking.
..
What was "pre-logical thinking" meant to connote? E. Durkheim, ]. G. Frazer, L. Levy-Bruhl and many other Weste rn
ethnologists and, in the U.S.S.R., Academician N. Y. Marr and
his numerous followen. used an antithetical constwct: primitiYc
thinking or the thinking of human beings in a primitive society
is basically opposite to logical thinkiog of the contemporary man,
being governed by opposite, let alone different, laws. Attempts
were mede to de6ne these laws on the basis of vast descriptive
material.
For lOme unknown reason 00 one ventured the opinion that
those wetc laws of the imagination. Possibly, the very word
implies Right into the unknown, Bight uncontrolled by any natural
factor. In sbort, the uimaginatioo" was considered antagonistic
to a "conaistleDt scientific pattern" or law.
Diirkheim looked for law. 01 pre-logical thinking in psycho.
lC'Ciology; u he saw it, in primitive society all i[[ational notions
ad riCh penonifed the communi'"
or collective' most likely
"
'"
c",~eDCe of the society was identified with "collective notions"
~ d ..",I_. bod 10 be dill.,...t from aU real and 'ogica";
~ mn".1 pbrooowna,
Of

..

Pa.::r IIeid

pee logical thinking was traceable to the

liz. pverning usociations of notions: in

:....... . or ~tjmjlind" usociation of notions two simila r
...I.o-..i.~~ ODe eieD though this contradicts
.... ~ while in a "contagious" or "pa r-

164

. .1,

tia'" ;\s~ocial i on of notlflns the part i

<
'con~luerel a whole or
somet h111 )2; accessory to the phenomenon
.
h'
" In
dcllance of reason and
IS seen as t e phenomenon , b ut agam
.
A'
h d
experience.
PICtbou'le, a sTah. ~w or a name .are eq.uated to the man to whom thcy
ong.
IS pro d uces actions dl(ectcd not at th
b'
'\'f
"
"
e
su
Jcct
ltse
but at somet hmg simi ar or related to it F.aze. a d
h
d
'b
.
.
.
n
many
ot
er
,
I
h
ct no O~ISts" ek~cn e thiS as magic, while corresponding notions
arc magIC t lin mg.

Thc French ethnologist and philosopher, Levy-Bruhl, went

fart~er and d eeper. He evolved. a gc~eral theory describing the
spec~fics of human thought functions tn primitive societies.
Le"vy'-Bruhl covered aU mcntal operations contradictory to
t~~ 10~pc ,?f the ~o~tcmp~ra.r~ c ivil~se~ man in his "law of part~clpat10n ~ cscnbIng pnffiltl\"e thtnklOg as pre-logical or mystIC. Never d id he co~tcnd, as is sometimes said, that primitiye
man was generally mcapable of understanding the natural
environment and acting rationally. Had this been true, the
savage could not have attained any practical goal and therefore
would not hm"c surviyed. According to Levy-Bruhl, the sava~e
performed ra tiona l actions mechanically, much as a billiards
player aim s a nd stri kes a ball, calculating the angle of incidencc
and the angle of rcflection without even thinking of them. These
pre-logical prin ciples, Levy-Bruhl adds, wcre dominant in thinking. Yet Levy-Bruhl was no racialist; he did not beline that
these particu larities of thinking were inborn in underdcveloped
peoples , secing them as a qualitatiye stage of historical development.
On arriving at these conclusions, Le\'y-Bruhl found himself at
a crossroad s. G enui ne historicism required that he should reject
the meaningless concept of "mystic thinking" and anal?,sc. mo~e
thoroughly the psychology and physiology of human t~lnkillg ill
the earlicr stages. However, not Levy-Bruhl but ~en(J WaIIona psychologist of the matcrialist school, a Communist and Marxist, and poss ibly the greatest psychologist of the 20th cent~rrfollowed through a long this course, whilc Li:,y-~ruhl rcmaloc.d
an idealist, paying fo r it heav ily. He took the new that my~tlc
and logical th ink ing were not t\~O .stage~ of dev~lopment , but
rather two ant.lgonistic eternal prlnclplcs iIlherent Ill. the human
spirit anti cor re~pondi n g to faith :lnd rcas~n. l-!c ascnbed a ~~.n
historical charactc r to thcsc clcments of l[fatlO~;ll ;lOd <110,.,1<:.11
,
the,
" lOt'
mystkism . And shortl y bcore
1
t lC en d 0 f hIS
I t. he.nude
'
final choi ce (as c\'idenccd by his posthumousl~ published o()[v
165

his two old dChnitions of primitin; thinking:

betw"
k)
bo
0
'
'''dc
''
, tead 01 re,'etting the empty "mystiC
Cllnition
antl c ib
a orat'"'
I 'ca1 ",
ing on the scienti6c content of the dfi"
C Dluon 0I h
~ c "prc:.ogl
Levy-Bruhl did the reverse. He renounced th~ Id ea of pre-log_
ical thinking", All that was left was the mystic aspcc~, ~llcgcdly
inherent in the human spirit and observable more dlstmctly in
primitive cultures.
Yet the valuable contribution made by Levy-Bruhl (who had
carried on the work of a number of eminent ethnologists) to
scientific thought was picked up and projected by Henri Wallon,
though he, too, was not the only onc to try and remod el it
-0

along materialist lines.

What means should we use to analyse this strange phenomenon, this treasure obtained through scientific observation and
generalisation? Ethnologists Frazer, Vierkandt and Levy-B ruhl
knew only their contemporary associative psychology; they had
no idea of the physiology of the higher nervou s activity or lin~uistics, nor of the psychophysiology of speech. However, no way
IS con~eivable for resolving this puzzle other than stud y of the
formatlon of the second signal system, including that in the
modern child,
. ~t !he answers to riddles posed by the ancient human
Ima~natton are somehow related to linguistic proble ms was appreciated by M;ax Miill~r, lounder 01 the mythological school,
~~o suggested mterpretmg the emergence of ancient myth s as
diseases. of the language". But no one then thought that the
word
"dislacase.. would pose new problems as diseases are goved by
ern
ws that have still to be discovered.
An al"'.getdher ?ifferent direction was explored by the Soviet
mgulst, flca emlCian N Y M
. bl
outstanding ,ucees
I;' "":. Barr, POSSI y one of the mo st
"
sacs 0 ~y r ruhl.
We can well afford to
't h
h
conceptions and need I oml ere t e essence of his linguistic
lormal I
I I
on y stress that Marr did not look lor the
aws a anguages'
I '
'pace: but
for the relation 10 f genera, Irrespective of time and
the .:_2.-1 d I
0 the development of lanouages to
~wn<a
eve opment 01 the society,
'
"
Accord'
pnmanly
the0 mode of
witb the ~ ~' the qu~litative part 01 language
put
radically fr:,m th.-Bruhl's Idea that thinking 01 the
It wu inr.onceivable to
contemporary and that, therefore,
Pfomptl:d Marr to use the create a general theory of think ing
In additioa, Marc saw the same outlook with regard to language:
rOOts for thc transformation of think166

ing in

the

tral1';ormation o( the essence of language and

~pcech.

But all this was mere lipeculation. No strict evidence was avail
.t.ble .. Marl', conversant in linguistics and archeology, applied
tltafllC strength and energy to. heap vast amounts of knowledge
and hyputhe<o;es, facts and conjectures into a pile. Though a contemporary of. Pavlov. he kn.cw little or nothing of psychology
and ~he physlOI?gy of the higher nervous activity. That is why
he did not ~esltate. to b~rrow the unscientific views of Levy~r~hl "and ki.nd.r~d mv.est~gators about the "magic" and "mysttCIS~ of pnmltlvc thlnkmg. The empty (ormula o( the magic
functlOn of speech and thinking in the work and life of the
primitive man contained negative implications only: for in the
sense we attach to thinking, it was rather non-thinking, while
language was non-language in those days.
Marr' s original approach to linguistic investigations-for him
"palaeontological analysis" of modern and historically known
languages, which, unfinished, was hardly understood even by
his closest pupils-produced some thrilling fragments. but no
conclusive evidence.
Marr's conceptions, we might recall, were sharply criticised.
But w as the criticism constructive? This alone is of interest to
modern science. In other words, has science advanced or regressed
from the positions o( Le\'y-Bruhl and Marr? Frankly speaking, it took a step bad,.-ward in terms of psychology (genetic
psychology, social psychology) . Criticism, as the saying goes,
emptied the baby with the bath. Marr's critics forgot the principle of Marxist philosophy that investigation of the nature of
thinking implies study of the history of thinking, since the tatter' s nature is historically changeable. What is implied is not
a simple change in the content of thinking, i.e., mere accumula tion o( knowledge, but a different qualitative structure if not
of all then of many mental operations o( the primitive man as
compared to those of contempo rary logic.
Because of the criticism of Marr's conceptions, historians and
ethnographers fell back on the simplistic, inherently anti-historical
notion that the word "religion" adequately explained all particularities all the nonsense of the spiritual world of primitive
times. r~decd. it was a step backwards, and a very appreciable
onc at that, compared to the scanty theoretical content of even
such concepts as "magic" and "mysticism" of primitive thinking.
Extensive usc of the term "religion" only poses another riddle:
167

h) mOfe an J mon;.. ,Cl-I;gioll" is fl'\ l',lkd

" the remote past. rno\"og
b;tckw.ud
from
to
I

.h \\ l'

dl'l'pl.:[
_I. .. left"!"
, ,' ..

ol l .h'i SOll<:t)

to

;l

pre-<:Iass socIety "

f 'he "truth" underhing the CCnl;lrk:iblc
SCiences treatmg 0
"
'I ' ,
I'
,
such .;ls
achleyements
0f , Cl'hn,''''''1
...... c\'!x:rncttcs,
. ogle
' II .lllt
I ' Info r,
h . athematical logic and scnllottc WI lC InCOm_
mattan t con, m
.
J I'
'I I "
I"
'
I
'
I
mentt'd
b,'
sCiences
Col
Ing
Wit
1
tie
untrut
1 .
I
petellnt!
suppe
. .
I'
d I ,'
'b
I'
The ability of the human mln~ to ~a I Into c u.st~n, .1 Suet Ity
d on, .d,'ction i.c. into distortions of rcailt), cnnnot be
an I c
r
.terms
. of mechamca
. I f 011'I ures 0 f tie
I t I'
k'
'ed
I)'
in
lin "Ing
cxp am
on
. I h' k' "
machine. It stems from "prc-logIC8 t In log .

3. LOWEI Llyn OF MEHTAL ACTIONS

Some cybernetics theorists point to a stran~c break. in continuitv; c\'bernetics is not yet able to analyse all iOtermedtate levcls
of psychics, ranging from conditioned reflex activity in animals
to the higher mental functions of man.
SO\'iet Academician A. N. Kolmo~orov put this title O,'cr a
section of one of his articles: "Why Extremes Only?" What he
implied was that present cybernetics analyses of the higher nervous activity are oriented on the extremes: the conditioned
reflexes in animals (making use of this elementary a ctivity of
the cortex to develop relatively simple programmes known as
the mathematical theory of teaching), on the one hand , and
(with the help of mathematics) the formal logical operations of
the intellect, the highest function of the human brain , on the
other. The vast spectrum between the two extremes - between the
most primitive and the most complex psychic actions-has not
practical.ly spea.king, lent itsel! to cybernetic analysis. Kolmo~
gocov views thIS state of affairs with some embarrassment. In
anot?cr of his articles he wrote: "Conditioned reflexes are inherent In all vertebrae, while logical thinking appeared at a very
recent stage of ~uman development. Yet the synthetic activity
of human consCiousness (apart from the simplest conditioned
re~exes) that .preceded formal logical thinking has not been descnbed 50 far In terms of cybernetics."
Here the essence of tbe matter is peCic t d'
d
h Y
cyberneticians cannot be blamed ~ th
n ~ . tn
cpt.
et
they describe what has DOt
or e. omlSSlor. How c~uld
by the particular scienca? ~..~tcn~tlled and ch,)ract~Clsed
......,ect lS vaaue and elUSive.

168

SUIllt: pS)ll."ll)J..:i t
U'i";e,t
He dl.:r~rtnl(>llh in til( hum.ln
highn 1ll'r\'lHh ;Kti~-ity 1) physi'Jlog}, b~ p~,.chic~, '. cognition
ThouJ..:h the tcrl1\~ In thlt cla~sificati{Jn are manifestly lame the
idea i~ to delimit throu~h the term "psychics" the vast expanse
betwct:n conditioncd reflex activity at the level of the first si~.
Iwl system and man's scientific logical thinking. Kolmogorov call ..
this "synthetic activity of human consciousness" bc,-ond the
bo unds of simple conditioned reflexes but short of formal 1(I~ical
thinking. And ~ometimcs it i.. said that the suhlogical range
covcrs emotional and volitional phenomena.
Pcrhaps, howcver, it would bc ea~ie( to choo,e requisite terms
and definitions if the question were approached from the viewpoi nt of development. It is obvious that fossil types of animals
possesscd simple reflexes far in advance of the logically thinking man. Would it not be right. therefore, to assume that thc
second Ic\'c1 ("psychics") appeared in hominides, the closest
biological a ncestors of the Homo sapiens long before thc latter
emerged? KolmogorO\' is inclined to accept this historical e"olutionarr approach. "Logical thinking," he says. "emerged at a
very ~eccnt stage of human deyelopment." Hc calls all other
conscious activity not simpl~' of a lower order, but "antecedent " .
The thrce Icyels of highcr nervous activity of man can therefore be likcned to geological strata. In terms of the subjcct m~t
ter, psychology i~ no les~ historical than geol?gy. The gCOIOglH
secs the earth's crust as a historical formatIOn. He. refcrs .all
observable rocks or geological structurcs to som~ specific period
in the formation of the earth's crust. The vanous le,cls and
mechanisms too, now forming the single human psycho-neC\'o~ls
activity, camc into being at diffe~~nt periods. Some appea.rcd IR
long extinct amphibia and reptLl~a. others mu~h btcr IR th~
Quaternary apemen: ho",e,'er, unltkc the gCO~OglC:1I st~ata, the~.
altered the preceding formation~. IIo~o saplen~ recen'cd .new
In contcmporarv human con~clousness the lower e, oluI ,
~en
"
I"
')' levels in contr.1St to geological strata, were gre:1t} ranst'
. . highcr one-conceptual loglca
. I t h'10 k'"Lng. All tree
h
tonal by the
formed
I I ",e monolithic and interconnccted. They come apart, sep..tevcs..
.IR abstract an d tech'
[ rna dl
'
"
0
o,,'o,'nal
layers
onh
mC:l
ratlRg In
1"'"
-,

Icling. Nonethc1e~s. a psychologist can also procc:d With. an .evo .~

.
an'lhsis of contempor;lC\' human ps~chlc~. which IS pH.tlOnar.\' '1 . "'~I'le'd "In. llcontolon,,"
i.e. reclaiming antiquity from
ture~que ~ .....
'.
1"'_"
the depths of our conscIOusness .
169

nervous alti\i1r and

hi~h

dl.'grce of

phc.:nnrncna as
customary cllncc.:pt ~.
anth ro pIlml) rph i SIII
with the
o bviousncss,
...e always hampered
in prevailing t hat the
microbes cx ist, which
laws inde pendent
of the microcosm , the
compelled man to
WI body a s a m easure
the fund a mentally
and the theo ry of
il to attain a sim ilar
~nermos t recesses of
physiology of the
Behavioral phenom
emotio n s tu rned
to reappear, f rom
to disregard
someabstraction
to anima ls by

that

lie
4ltamrity. u
dIcae mhjective
what die iiMN'teIIt
appUd to animph
j"bf:pd,e eden"
Odiou.
_110

ons of hum an

OiC'C0i4e hllman

That b why
obotatI. alta
iag the mind 110 the
tL He mutt haft

...... ratioaaI Plycltie

aa1vltjo of tho apes and

ra, mn.
1'IIiI "air

'
'
I
UI
from
icy of the creature

knOWD

by overcoming
and stra in
to conclude
part o f
nervou s
contempoactiv
man

(Pa l;\CIJ;\l1tllrtll'll. ,
the modern m:ll1.

"':ltllll

piu'r'~eny pi
I
~
at Cs )"'tween th ... :Ipe and

On t~le evidence of '"mi1 C-m:. tho true

f.
.
C1t
lacks ~1tghtly what arc spe ifiUltlv hurna
~ure I)f 'hh bUill
_" I- 1 I . n reglol)! f) t e cortex
Wh c t hcr t 1liS
Ii 1/', It Y
IS what afford~ the
'bT y f h- I me nta l functions hy the humm hI n i. '_IIPOSS~ liit 0 .Igler

\ S I a Vito, qUC~tlOn 1t
IS cont rary tl) rc.:aS(JIl tf) bclicv ~ that 'he
II IormatlOn1
- --111

.
'>C Irna
H omo 5ilplcn~ arc a luxury. Th<.v re !lei,he'
-I
h ,. ,. ...
, <In appen d-1'( nlJr <In
uncssentla
I-I
N growt . I heir removal or de','uc,"
IOn caUSC$ (l~astrou~
Ial u res.
ot so for Neanderthal men , howcv t:r, f or t hclr
- bC hav,
.
'I?ral machlllcr~' was designed al(mg fund<lmcmal1y different
Illes .
. The. criticism of Frcu~ism in Soviet psychological litemture.
mclu~tng. eth?ops~chologu:al literature, may have been more
effecti ve If thIS phtlogenetlc approach were applied to the above
phenomena. InvestiRations br psychoanalvsts would ha\-c led to
differe nt interpretation~ had they been transplanted in the following tentat.ive cvolutionary setting: inclinations suppressed by
huma n psychiCS or the highly de\'eloped sexual instinct is a survival of what was biological norm in our ancestor. the Palaeoanthrop us (the Neanderthal man in the broader sense of the
word), w ithout which, in his specific em'ironment, he ran the
ri sk o f leaving no progen~. :-":atural selection has not destroyed
all the Palaeoanthropus' heritage due to the rapidity of his transformation into modern man. If we took this assumption, the
necess ity for superseding and sublimating the Neanderthal man's
heritage in each indi"idual psychics would appear far more
rationa l and historically justified.
Thus, [cal human psychics comprises older and fresher strata,
much as the earth's crust, the difference being that they arc not
merely superimposed layers but lavers in complex interaction.
Then the "unconscious", too, could be interpreted as a hlyer corresponding to the psychic b'd of the Palaeoanthropus.
Freud ia ns call the sluice connecting: the unconscious and consciou s pre-conscious. 'nut ' should be reappraised rather than
rejected. T he sluice is the seat of "symbolic" thinking:: substitution, id entification of various objects. their imaginarr tr.lOsformation into each other. One cannot fail to recognise here the
oldest ph:lse of W:lllon's "pairs:',. the phase of ~inom.i al. co~
bin:ltions the brthcst from [e.ll lstt(' content. PossIbly. It IS thIS
phase wl;ir.:h should be comp.ued ro the init~.\l steps in the psych ic d c\dormcnt of our genus, t he H omo saplcns.

171

Walloo had every reason

to

uk: if a ."~n.ir " is

all dl'lllt:nt.ll:Y
to Ita pnmltl\'C sta,c:cs. ),hould It

form of thought correspondill8

DOt be found in thinking and speech of the m~sc retarded hUIll<l !l
civilisations? What WaiioD implied was dc6n1tcly not the. fosst!
Cro-Magnon men as he only quotes cthnographr In . r;lrt~(;.1I1il r,
he cites Lccnhatdt's observations of New Caledonia natl n.:s. 1 bese
are of great value to our subject and th~ fundam~ntill problems of snrial psychology for Lecnhardt discovered Hl the language and thinking of the' New Ca1e?onians many sur~'i va[~ bo~h

of "dual notions" and of gcammatlcal forms reflecting,

In

Ill S

view, the so-called dual organisation of society.

It will be recalled that Soviet ethnography arrived at the id ea

of dual organisation. i.e., of a tribe composed of two phratrics
or opposing groups, as the most ancient stage of the primitive
communal system. a view comprehensively and co ncl usively
formulated in his fundamental investigation by A. M . Zo!otarcv.l
Dual organisation may well be regarded as thc simplcst, the
most illustrative and the most ancient sociological model of what
we generically de1ine as "they" and "we".
Investigation of the most ancient layers of human psychics, as
we see, reveals the presence of this initial category of soc ial
psycholo8Y.
WalIOG, though only grop.ing: blindly for a historical and soc iop'ychologica1 interpretation of this phenomenon of child thin kmg, advanced precisely in this di.rectioD. "These undiffercntiatcd
notions," he wrote, "where two terms coexist, being sim ultaneously confusable and. distinpishab1e, these units-pairs, as well
as prevalence of the ~IDary syste ... of numeration (in primitivc
peoples-Author). remrnd one of the pairs which fette r child
t~ugbt till it becomes capable of formulating a definite in tcrrc~t10D of terms. Are they not
of the tendency to use
~l~ry
structures, an initial
of child thought, thc
tlal
step ~way ffrom the
conftuion towards distinction
alDld
It - ! I I ffi
.
.
o pcrcepboQ 0
o 11m
. ila
th IS
City unb1
__ ~"111
'P ce to ,ust mcntlOn
.
discover hi ' ' .
IlllUmgwlts lDterpret the pa irs
10 vanoUl
of collectiv tho k ' "2
What ahase Wallo
lor
e
In In g.
Iecti !hi king> !' given. UI
~ the nature of col.
ve D
. HIS mOlt Important dilCOleq. that child thought

mitially luhordlnncd to the l~w of ' ..... -,_.

b"
"I
' .
" '.
)1
momla com.
W.l~ ill: ,nhl,'d n thc prcccJin~ chaph:r (Senirm 1).
LIl,I.IIlt; p(;.lStluty n I htion t.o rC:llitv,
\'(',Ilon writl'
mental ;llUIII I" thrrlUgh pairs Ire hlghlv activc in children.
though often they moly (I)nfuse them.
I
Binomial u)mbin3tirJOs in <1dult undcn.lc,e IJPcd or Ji..~.ltetl
think ing arc clue either to 3 consonance of Wind or to some
sem3nti( flik(.:ncs~ or contrast) charactcri~tic. WaHon suh,ran.
tiates his investigations with psychiatric case histories. "If a pair
is the primitive structure of child thinking, which undouhtedly
still plays a part io adult thinking (though in ~o subordinatc a
role that it may pass unnoticed)," he wrote, "there is reason to
expect that it will reappcar in some of the functional regressions
or dissoc iations, Mental patients seem to amuse themselvcs sometimes by answering with a word which, though it is not cntirely
irrelevant, makes their speech abstruse, odd and absurd.":!
Whether or not they do so deliberately in opposition, Wallon
says , t his is an explicable mechanism, for it is similar to that
of child thinking,
,
,
,
W aHon conducted his iO\-estigatiom chiefly 'WIth children SIX
and seven years old, Mental actions through binomial combinations begin earlier. It is reasonable to believe that the ~eepcr
the phasc of a) a child's psyc?ic de"elopme~t, b) reg~es~~on ~f
the psychics of a mental patient, c) evo~utJo~ of thl~kln~ I~
primitive man, the greater is the play of btD,omlal combl~atJo~s,
i.e., the less they are subordinate to phonetic or semantiC as~o.
ciations. In the extreme, they mar be seen as the ~a.st dep~~dc:~
on va rious associations. Yet this phenom:n~~, d It a\~ Is~mc
film , is retaincd in the ~srchics of ,th~,~l\'IIS~ ot;a\Vhat can
persons it is quite mamfest, Andre Ie', r "
ho as
"
h
h mania of some "'fltecS w ,
.'
th'nkLo" of anothcr
be mo re anno)"lOg tan, t e
I
>:>
( soon as they sec an obJcct, cannot re~lst
,
I
one,
,
'I
bin'Hions may CO\'cr not on y
The subject of bmonua com. : 'ncludin~ illustrative oncs:
words and thoughts, but also, aCClon~, ~ a"inl~v patterns,
motions and shaping real obJectSd,on ,I~ed' io' this wider context,
"
"I
b' tions 'He ISCUS~
d
If bmOfllli.\ com lOa
'.
h rooc of imagination a~
it will be found that they he a.t t, e
noc linked rigidly In
creative actiyity. So long as obJect~ arc
I Ibid., p. 88,
2 Ibi,L. pro loo<>r,

I'll

173

" ed o('on~ chs(ilil'd ~\Stt'llh ;lIld '(ri~$. ;\ hillom ial

n J '-.
.
'" I,".,
_
" " a".os
f",' tlll'Jr unlLfllllcd II'~_ - 111 ... 111 0 II .1 "p.llr
binaaon
0..
'
"
II " ',"oked or srlitling \\ h.1l III t.HI I~ Clile Win t'
15 rea ) un
I.'
'"'
" h tage ,"n the lkn'lnpllIl'nt 01_ t ,.IIIlKlng
t H': CSS

generals

ca[lcrtc~

'led
'

..

Omparcd to our (lme

IS

""

tie p.urln g

(l

( lin
wlt.1I
__

1 he

r '-'ISua
" , lOn
ant!

tro
ase
' f,,1..'\\'(..'( ''1,110,I1,H;1
"
"' ,c.OIn
mental
images.
The farther h.1Ck we go, tie:
binations we find that faithfully n:llt-a IT;l It\ lIlt. t liS c: IIdly
by accident. while the r('~t bdllillt tn the 1"(';llm of tIll.' 1r1l:'!).!! -

Ilation.

f'

"

Here arc some of the typical instruments () . r I.e 'rn:lA'~lat ion;

mental (or graphic) association o~ the, ',haractcnstlcs. of d,~cr~nt
objects; duplicating objects by Imagllllllg or .crc;1tlOg artl.ficlal
models; establishing (mentally or ,through actIOn s) non-c~lstCnt
rclations between objects; convertIng (mcntally or gcaphlcall y)
some of the traits of objects into independent objects,
Psychology distinguishes bctween the indi vidu al im :lgination,
i.e., ileeting, transient or fix.ed in individual creatio ns and acts
of the imagination that are neither individual nor fre e, but customar}" repetiti\'c and rccurring in thc givcn social e nv ironment;
ethnologists call them "collectivc notions ".
And so, whene\'cr one touchcs on thc subj cct of pre-logi cal
thinking, one touches unfailingly on thc mechani sm of binomial
combinations and thereby on that of the imagination. The imagination is absolutely absent in animals, that is, absent in the
higher nervous activity at the lcvel of thc fir st signal system.
With the growth of civiJisation and the historical devel opment
of thinking, the uncontrolled and impetuous im agination is
channeled into narrow, petmissiblc limits, But precisely for thi s
reason it becomes creative and constructivc.
That is why study of the history of the clash between the
pre-logical imagination and logical thinking is also related to
technical problems. Cyberneticians aver that the operation principle of the "thinking" machine is selection, Development of
the laws of logical thinking followed the same path: selection
?f a few out of the host of binomial combinations, Cybernetics,
It secms, bas reached the point when it needs a deeper knowlc~gc of the structure and naturc of the rock yielding the preCiOUS arc of truth, the structure and naturc of [hc mi sta kes the
sieving o~ wh.ich yields the gtains of correct judgement.
There .is stilI a stratum between binomial combinations-the
most anC1en~ ~nd !DOSt elcmentary phcnomena of the consciollsncs~ that dlstlOgUish man from animals--ant! thc formation of

ge ner , I notll ~ "1 '11 IOV I\C' tv.') mental operations which an,;
at on" UPI :J Itc nJ SODDlcme ry. callcd S<.'[I.atjon ~f~'rrn:uion
of , tics lit 5ImUar obJcct , e,g., a let of counting ~tid;.s) and
cloi IhC.ltllHl. H'Jth are ()btained directly fmm the ment.al operatilln that fllrm, aln In simpler phenomena.
(ndceo. in the ex.treme c.ase, a pair may be compo cd uf two
vcry liOlilar manife l<ltif)llS. At IC.1\t, IDme aspect of them rna,'
be so $irnilar as to )C identu.al and permit mutu.ll substitution.
That i<; thc initial &rep in cumt:"Ucting a seric~. In primitivc and
,hild thinking .cnatilJR rnanife,~ il~clf through repctition of an
illustrative l>I~n, action, g:eHurc, lound, Rhythm and ornament
both grow on thi~ sublogical ground. In the casc of some failurcs of th e frontal lobes of the adult brain, the same operation is
pathological: wc witness involuntary multiple repctition of one
and the same drawing, word. (:(c. But in normal thinking, seriation only undcrlies the subsequent Halle-formation of gcncral
noeions or gcnerali .. ation~.
Howevcr, :1 gcneral notion docs ~o[ crystallisc on thi~ b3.~i~
only. It rcquires yet another operation, that known J,s c1a~slfi
cation which in the elementary form consiHS of "this" and "not
this", '0 "yes" and "no", It is easily scen that t~is act, tOO,
originates from a limit "p~ir" case, but one of oppoSIte char~cte~
to the one mentioned earher, for the two phenomena ar~ e~urel)
different. At least, they are unlike and unrelated. ~IS IS ~h.e
starting point of :1 mental ope~ation called, dichoto~)', I.e., d.lVI~
sian into two, which even as It deyelops. I~ opposite to. a bmo
mial combination, This classificatOry actIVIty of the ml.nd surf e in the earliest stages of maturity. Child consCiousn~ss
r:~dsil ' accepts and de\'e!ops the di\'ision of aU sur{oun~mg
tnbes
tlflgSlflOg
h" )" t ood 'nd e"il Ethnogcaphers report that some
p'"
d' r'd natural phenomena between twO phratr.les,
CI~ltlve
l\
ns :tre not rC<lliscic in character, as endence~ In ~hc
class.1 ca~1O ' .
dern languages of the irrational claSSification
surV ival III man) mo ,
""
In short the initial typc
f
. to nnsculinc 3n' d f emlfllne.
,
: not 'e~ strictiy speaking, a logical operation;
o noun,s, In.
?f
class,lticatl.O~ t'hSe wa)~
al~no-:::> with , seriation for the higher stage:
It mere Y pin c:.

" , I' k' g through gener.ll notIons.

logl o\ t l~n I.n es thc social psychologist most is that these twO
Wh~~ lfltr~~~~ltionS are surp;isingly suggestive of the tribal
sublogLt:aldof
All
In somc1lOW deep'". related to the emotional sphcre.
.
systcm. f
f- "I" beu the same name and form a scncs or
bers 0 :1 .\ml ~

.
."
mem a'f"
"'_" phenomena, The tribal system [C.lC les t lern
group
~mll.
, I '

y.
I

l.fi .

li5

dIsIlble

ch other in custom. and utensils u<;cd , aod th('y

eaalllBtcrchanpble. Need we: nott' 11.1;\1 the-ir Incn.... ID aof~w".~y",

has something in c()mmOIl \\ II Ii thl: sOli o tal act
serIatIOn
prcbufosica1 ''We'' category.
. h ... I I ..
1 'p .
QIlDot help noting that In t C 1Il1t1;' t asslilca T.lthWlSe! ~ I,me opposition as in the socin-psycho logical
~~-m:.. -:elationship. The higher the c., aluatiY~ .'lcti Yity of the
mind (dividing phenoUiena and d~ed.s mto pOSI.tlVC <"lInd ncga
. good d evil) the more real 15 Its content III su e 1 cultural
as IC:"etiCS ~Dd ethics, and i~ distinguis h.jng the positive
from the negative from the standpotnt of practi cal be nent aod

:dci.

purpose.
f
h d' "
fI
That is where we come back to the act t ~t. IVISlon 0 lu~ an

sensations. feelings and emotions in~o pOS1tlVe and negati ve

stems not from the physiology of antma ls and h uma ns (where
no grounds exist for seeking the divi sibil.ity o f proccs~cs in to
two opposite groups only), but from sOCIal and , partIcularl y,

socio-psychologicallaws.
. .
.
In moral and aesthetic mattet s the ncgative evaluatIOn IS,
perhaps, the most ancient stratum. Investigations of the the?ry
of aesthetics and ethics have somehow ovedooked the question
of what was considered bad taste and bad manners in the
various periods of history. The fact remains that the criterion of
beauty and morality always implies invisible censurc and negation of the tasteless, ugly, amoral. The latter is not a negative
notion, for all too often it is more palpable than t he fo rmer:
dirt, ugliness, bloodshed, elements which are identified wit h the
"alie&l&", with the "they".
"We" groups take form through the negation of " they"
groups. Hatred and love reOect the same duality of " ali en" a nd

"owo", though these feelings should probably be related to the

intermediate, derivative category "thou" (or "you") . Y et they
came into being at a much earlier phase in man 's evolution tha n
the machinery of logical thinking by means of genera l notions.
Now for the conclusion. The vast history of the huma n racc
all() amounts to "we" and "they". The end of history o pposite
to us, the. mo~t distant state, is ."they". Historical progress from
the pre-h1stor1c to the COmmurust epoch has been mou lding in
our consciousness the antitbeaia between our civil isati on a nd
their savag';?f'ss,,~Wc[D our highly h~man and their p re-hu ma n
Rates. No they more pronounced exists than these animal-like
ancestors of oun, drawing away from whom we beca me hum ans.

176

All that "ti r~ our d i ~.&u~t and loathing most, if wc look closely.
arc prupcrt ic.:s of tlulSe apc lik,. creaturcs from whom we originated . ;lnd from whom wc movcd away through the millenn ia.
World hi ~lory Hull human progress, thcreforc, may be regarded
as a d yna mic oppo~ition of "we" and "they". Our thinking is a
negation of and a Contrast to the psychic activity of those remote
creature s whose descendants we arc.

CIa_pter V
WOILD ..noIIY AND SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY

t. SLAY'" AND EMANCIPATION

All that has been written about the past and all that science
bu learned about world history. serves the purpose of forcscc-

iDs the future.

Does know1cdse of the past yield a substantiated and objective idea of the direction (vector) and velocity of man' s pcogrcss

in hiltO'Y?
MOlt bourgcoil historians bold that this notion of progress is
oblolete. What they tacitly imply is that the future is uncognisable. Their stock argumgnt is that cultures and civilisations
are multiform. dcrcribed in incccasingly greater detail by histodaos , archeologists aad edmographers. A. Toynbee and other
exponents of the theory of cycles admit of only relative progress
in each individual civilisation and a relative superiority of West
European civilisation. However. they reject the idea of man's
atJ:so~utc progress from ancient times to our day. They consider
thll Idea outdated. a relapae to Hegel's teaching of history as
progress io CODJcio~ness of freedom. All of us regretfully recall,
too, t~t Hegel assigned no place for the future, seeing the
crownlRg act-the selawareneu of the absolute idea and univer,al freedom-in his contemporary Prussian state.
Any theory of progress 0, indeed, stillborn if it declares the
present or the oear future .. the ultimate. But Western historian s
are troubl~ not ooly by put failures of the various theories of
progr~s. . ey. are aware of the trend in science that possesses
effective
aacI .....
-Iute wor Id - WId e h IS. I <nter", of the obj"li"e
UMJ
ton~ progr~l: the historlre l m.teriali.m of Marx-En elsO

why the 110-" phil

h f hog
the accent on t:.-hf
f I'
..J.._
osop y 0
11tory shifts

IIf:i. IDg ate.'. ., q.:;: aUeaed bearer of all histoncal and sCIentific progoo ...kvioa. Henc th d
Lenm. That

IS

clinging to cxi5tentialism, -hida bold.

e . en
cs per~tc
in otfering tbe idea of the , I t . ' . the premISe. of salvatIOn
em.tiYe. the future IS always an

111

object of choi~et we can always go one way oe another; therefore, the past IS the on~y ~bject of scientific study.
In fact, howevee, thiS Idea of the alternative, that man can
choose b~tweel1 diverse. variants, which gained currency among
Western mtellectuals With some good reason, docs not affect in
any' way the Marxist-Leninist teaching on the objective laws of
SOCIal development.
In capitalist society the individual may go from one extreme
to another (and so~etimes really docs), choosing between the
most feevent champIOns of the capitalist system and its most
revolutionary antagon ists; he may opt one way or another,
because those ways ace possible in that society. In the absence
of capitalist society, however, other alternatives acise and the
individual may without a tcace of fatalism choose between difEceent positions and ways of thinking-but only out of those that
ace objectively possible in the given socio-economic formation in
the givcn historical epoch. He may join any existing or potentially possible community, share this or that public sentiment,
but ca nnot, say, choose to speak French if he lives in a countey
where nobody knows that language, oe if he had li,'ed at a time
when French did not yet exist.
No matter what principles the historian uses in defining the
periods, he w ill see that they keep growing shorter. The neolithic
period is much shorter than that of the upper palaeolith, medieval history shoeter than ancient history, etc. That is a clear hint
of the universal law of acceleration.
The mateeialist idea of progress traces some featlJ(cs typical
of the process as a whole.
One feature of absolute progeess is the rise in the productiv ity
of la bour. True, it is traceable only if whole periods arc compared. H owever, it is beyond doubt ~hat labo.lJ(. was mor~ efficient in the ancient casteen and anttque SOCIeties than 10 the
preceding primitive communal and barba ~ian socicti~s; aec~eo logy
has ascertained this poi nt quite conclUSively. EffiCIency 10. g~n
eral increased in the Middle Ages as compared to AntlqU.lty
and in mode en times as against the medieval. ~a~h succeed 109
socio-economic formation has a higher productl\'lty of labour
than the preceding one.
.
..
There arc tWO sides to the questIOn of effiCIency: Impro\'cment of the means of production and the closely related d~;lnges
.
h psychics and behaviour of the workers. The relation of
~~e~e e twO aspccts is neithee negligible nor simple. In the fin,ll

".

179

. more complex production process imr1i~'" ;\ J.!H'.,tcr

anaySIS,
I
h
k
I .

rational wilt. not attainable unless

c wor 'cr

Ii Inh.'rcstcl

In

the eod result of his effort.

.
.
In the primitive communal times gcncr;1tloll. InllO\\'l'd /-:cllcra
non without any visible change in the prodmtlH' fon.:n., Slavery

altered the routine of production: torn ;\W'l.r lrom th~ 'r tnbe"
and families. forcibly relieved of th~ ncc:ss lty Ilt fc~t!~ng their
disabled kinsmen. separated from tribal rites ,lIld rchglOR5.' the
barbarians, builders of dolmeDs ,lAd croml echs. heCUlH': budders
of pyramids, shrines, circuses, aqucd~cts, road~ and. to,wns. Ilow ,
ever the slave had a greater stake an destrOYing 1m Lmplem ents '
than'in improving them. In medieval times, pcas<lnts ::Ind arti

sans notwithstanding vassalage and coercion , hold the incentive

of ~ork.ing their own plots; thcy carcd for their tools, introd uced
minor improvements, which, accumulating over the centuries,
accounted for a gradual technical advance. In capitalist times,
workers are interested in earning the maximum wage, and, there
fore, io the quantity and quality of their product, in imp raying
their skills, in betteri.ng techniques with the lathe or some other
machine. In sum, this is the starting point for new machine
designs. Workers in the modern socialist countries hnyc immeasurably greater material, ideological and psychological incentives
to heighten labour productivity.
10 other words. growth of output is historically rel ated to
growth of incentives and, therefore. to changes in the workers'
social status. A medicval serf or feudal peasnnt was more free
than the antique slave, and thc hircd worker under capitalism
is still more frec, this prompting thc historian who focusse s his
atteotion on thc working masses, not the highe r but the lower
strata,. to ~fer that history's progress was paralleled by a gradual
emanapatlOn (thougb economically deceptive) of the people. The
temPO . of em;a0cipation Wai, indeed, quickcning. Thnt is what
made It poUible and necessary to negate all precedin" changes
b
t h f~cnulDe
it'
"
0
. ye!S.
emancipation
of the workers through
trans itlOO to socialism.
Here ~he historian discovers the second feature ob~er"able in
w?d~-wl~e progress, a feature linked with the fir st one a second
cntenon mseparable
from the fi nt.. e Iements of emancIpatIOn
. .
L__
were not uetowed on the pea pl

e b
y sovereigns
or lords' ther
were won IOd oPCbn or underground struggle. Each level of nCi,ie,"ement pave t e way for somewhat greater activity
.
and efrec-

180

tlVeli1 ,and the 1\ Illl

tory ,Idv n d.
Indh ltJV
urow n~ ." cgt,Jnll\'
h
'J Clf pre rl . wa the 0(JI1~
I nl"'II.,n
cte nunauon )1 d: :nuscs m thl fj'ht ;'11 t 'h)'e
who IJpprl,. e J and ~xploned tl. ~ :n. The prufrc of frc :=dom 15
Jlrogrcs~n th ctfeCu\cnc;., of the liberation It. ~Ic In l)[Jmi
II\'C ,ouc"es anyone W)O darc(J to )PPJSC the inVinCIble force
of {U~tCJI~ W,h doome j to "".(Ile or death. Slaves were given no
opplHtUnlly tn oppo'e tn.. ~ 1:k- )reking toll, though C,lSes arc
011 rcw~d .when .they Itruck fear il to their lords. A feud;)1 pca~
,tnt dcli~llited hi' relationship with the landlord in a contraer,
thre~tentnJ.; departure, drew on tbc legal rights of his com
muntly, resorted to ar~on. murder and mutiny. The hired worker
fig~ts t~le (apitali~t far more effccti\'cly by meam of strik<!s,
enugratttm, and participation in mass n:volutionary mon.-mcnu.
In th.e primiti'o'e communal society a "rebel", if any exiHeJ,
could g.,,e .vent to his discontent only, perhaps, by scnling apart
from ha klO~mcn. In the anci.:nt eastern and antique sQ(ieries,
oppress!"n
w.,~ opposed by stock communities b...
the then still

rudImentary mumal aid bodies, and en'n by associations of

imported sla\'I,."S. The feud.\1 world saw many varieties of community ;md organisation 5et up by oppre$sed ,-iliagers and townsmcn to defend themselves and fight the oppressors. Finally,
workers in the capitalist world formed trade unions and parties,
which arc a highly effective social force.
Accordingly, the political influence of the fighters for emancipation increased in the coursc of histOry, turning gradually from
opposition to authority into a struggle for power. This wa~ paralleled by the workers' developing ability to create clements of
ideology nnd culture to counter the ideolo,ltical and cultural
monopoly of the ruling classes.
By ;lnd Llrge, however, this incrca~ing pressure of the lower
str;H;l did not llIl";\1\ that they were gr;)dua.lly bec{)ming m.Htcrs
of the situ;lti{\[). The historic;11 imp.lct W,IS indirect: pressure
forced the economic;lliy powerful classes and the dominant policy,
ideology and culture th.\! rellc<:ted their interests, to reorg:lnise.
Whenc\-er the pres,ure dunged, the deterrinR ideas changed
:llso. The history of the restless lower strata ma.de thc upper
c1;\sses keep step. As H egel put it, and as l-.Lux ironical1~'
repeated, the "bad lot" of socicty, i.e., the mass of uneducated
commoners. cre.\ted moyement by their restlessness without which
there would h;l\"e heen no history.
13 -19;8

18.

n. __

powerful onslaulht of the cxploi.tcd masses

w;a~,

.... the exploiting cla ..es. were overthrown In a numb~r of

........ aDd Asian countrtcs between 1917 to 190 TIllS sct
. . . . . . foe 1..... bUDcodous acceleration of the tempo of

~tile -"... e

aw, ,...

may be summarised as follows: preceding his

amtiouous effort by the lords to halt the march of

NI~ of the upper .hats, i.e., the history that for some still
to be the hiItory proper. is no more than the history of
4";U who aadeavowed to delay history. Whenever they made
dm"L', they were fOlCed to do 10, making the minimum retreat,
aeta more than the minimum.
Oscar W'llde quipped that indocility, from the poiot of view
of anyooe who knows history, was the chief human virtue. Progu.. became possible through indocility coupled with rebellion .
ThiI souods strange comiog from Oscar Wilde, but contains a
glimmer of truth, at least for anyone who really knows history.
Western social psychology tried to reduce the quintessence of
all lOCio-psychic phenomena to the two most fundamental acts,
namely, coercion aod imitation. Thus Diirkheim saw the social
aspect proper of Plychics in coercion, Tarde in imitation, some
IeCIIII

others in a combination of both.

Soviet acieJltmc social pqcbololY does

Dot ignore these rcally

very important and deep-rooted mechani.ms. But it probes

~eepcl. It hol~s that to a hiltorian indocility and insubordinaboo are DlOr~ unP'!rtao~ am thao coercion. and imitation. They
are the psychic malOsprtog that realUa objective economic laws
of ~rogtell i~ a human ~. 10 each subsequent socio-economl~ formation, the fuDCtlon of this maiospring became greater.
~t IS common knowledge that for thousands of years human
1OC1cty. was non:-antagonistic, i.e., BOt based on the principle of
explOIting the direct p~ucen of material values by the owners
of the means of produwoD. The split of lOCiety into antagonisti ,
dasses t~k place with the advent of davcry.
.
. In ~h's IChse, ~ast existence of a darden system stresses the
hlStOllcally tranSlent character of clul ut"-'nilms
h' h '
cogent
I d' 1 'cal 1
W IC IS
argumen 0
la ectI
ogle in favour of scientific communism.
However, when conliderin& the hiItori,., to
f
one should emphasise the hiP depee to wh~ 3.~ss? ~an,
triad is abstracted and note the abteac:e of
IS. d.lal~t,chal

-e....

0"'._"
-" _.....lve

raus 10 t e

C
primitive
For
,
1 .pa~t.
.
. the Soviet peopl'c, t lie b III'I',
ucr1 01 (ommu
IllSIll, I H:IC IS n(Jthln~ concrete to im't t
If
'
..
1
,
"",,
l a e or carn
rom In the
'
I
I
of primitive 1'1
A forml r IY poru'
Ilcnlg It(.:un(.'ss
' . and
. IdiOCY
.,
1 c.
af I clxpn:l~sllol n . pnml~lvc communism' nuw grates on the car~
~lnl 1<1S .1 cn Into .dlSU~C,. So long as capitalism ruled supremm:y more or less uJcaltstlc
reminders 01 tCo

11... p,',m't
l lV<.~ com'
munes acted as accusations against the bourgeoisie N(
.1

'I"

I'L

.1

JW,\\lCn

socia Ism, U ~ rca Ity, tllat is no longer necessary.

The sCientific ~heot.Y of progress is posited on the fact that in
some (espects-prlmanly socia-psychologically-freedom was more
curtailed in the primitiv,c communes than under slavery_ All
tates of freedom, of the mdependence of the individual in the
pre-class society arc contrary to fact. Spiritual life then' was as
wretched as their conditions of lifc. Savages arc imposing in the
accounts of romantic travellcrs only, who cndow them with the
feature s of their own social ideal.
In reality, everything was diffcrent from what wc look forwoud to in the age of communism. Man W<l~ ~tccreJ in miscry,
and his expericnce was wretchedly small.
In the pit of the primiti\'c communc, man was in certilin respects more cnsb\'cd than the slave of a lat..:r d:\)'. 11e was inde'
pendent and frcedom-Ioying only in respect to external enemies.
In the tribe and thc family subordination and imitation were
the rule, with indocility and insubordination a rare exception.
Engels, who in his time paid tribute to things primitive, describcd
the true status and condition of the primitive man in the following curt words: "The tribe remained the boundary for man,
strangers and to oneself in relation t~ hi.ms~lf ~s well as to OUtsidcrs: the tribe, the gens and their IflstltutlOns were sac~ed
and inviolable, a superior power, instituted ~Y natu~e, to which
the individual remained absolutely subject In fecilng, thought
and d ced , Impressive as the people of this epoch m:ly :lppcar ttl
us, they differ in no way one from another, th~y arc. still h~)Untl ,
:'IS Marx say.~, to the umbilical wrt! of the prlmord!,,1 (()1lunun.

"I

ItY;l'he roots of w hat we call scrv itude appc.ued f.lr in ad\'"ncc

' ,0 ,'t w"s vol"nt'\" )' suhl)rdin.ltll!1l without
o f sIavery. N at coerC1\
..., "
'
the slightest hint o f protest,
, . ,.
,. 'b'l
'C
'
I "ment long beforc sbn:ty h:\s heen dnCfl d
1 lie mller ens av...
. .'
'1lCS
" . .1'1 lOnus
"5'1
f
I
observers
of
pnnutl\,c
tn
tn.:
l
by many t IlOug I1t U
_

I K.
p, 1\1.
U'

1 F

Man: AAl

Eo,eh

'..

Sf/ulr,l \Vork!, Vol. II. Mv>cow, 1<)6!.

183

\ .

l ...

master

,In! I

.ubscnii,.'n,t.: 'n,1 11:

fear i .1 b.! Ill t."}'
uf theif tt,11 tit
Rcu:rtin' tu It
we r,lll .If rh.,t r,.1

aad lMteUiness in the

PI, Sl'nce
'Ie p&Jchology. 1tis 11\( Ire
UvoIuntary scnitud~ (lin
.,f8lDCb 16th-clIltLIn writcrl

aDd thercfor~

.1"

Itill deeper. That was

progress "it.'\\, cd ~l ~ ;1
10 CO spea k, the .lh,olutc

IIlpprcssiun of the will

lIIy&tcrio us spirit), th;n
to tha t point \,olllnt;u\

tribes, pcoplc.:s, begin'

d ecay of t he primi
io the fight against

image of the
.... obstructed hy nil
. . other, it wa s' hin

the foll uwing

weU remember th~'
thought that

t b(.'

I thought if th (,:~'

utterance COilFear is:1

. . .glc bctwc.:cn

t'

I-p.

'u"

nc )[.:,

I ~"

\' "on-

<; ..:'

u..: he., 'mm~

-If)

of '~j"

i\\i~h
aW.lfe

'''I.e

n . ' t h t}r1tlny ,'I cu.,tom. I,

.10 \.'xpn
jrJll uf ,;
r.:
. I \\,,'. \\"Ilidl th{"n
'
mltl~c I:-;~a
~h.lngl.:~ i'lto
. I I .1') or I311 h f~ ar. lx. "ning it, o\\'n
.,:
nprmitC'. i.I , rCl1unu tlo;, of "we' .. J .Jburdination t(l \(lInc
fnrei,ttn .lutftOllt,
I
"::1 10 . . . a I!:..:.;:,t;on of m;ltlo."rial
wealth.
(1l.11)tmluv,'
four.'";,...~,,
'~rnton 1 'r'u"
m ~Il \UI unt.1r1 Iy
.
'
, ..
~\C ur: thell ",cllth, nd trd'lI '1 . 'fed lim mto a "t(fed
ans:ll.:rlficc. A ... time :)1 rc j4 d. Ill_'-xrs "I C'lmmunes grad
uallv hcclmc dave of the tC )! S3c~ficc l ':;rc~d niicllatioo
of rrnducr~ eXLtd IC~"JCfc:.,; !;svcv ::d nt'l,:t.llj"n. Aliena
tion was not ,liw3VS
mt.::-.:..lJl If,;n.: ..J a\.tion: ohcn it \\,.1'
unilatcral. f PrcJlto:y CO~;J. . . . ,:"y..=:: .J( tr:butn .lad slaver)
do not .1pr'J(.:ar untli pc>ple ~ Ie: e t-- gJ.\'~ !L'edy either of Ihe
fruits of their bbour ,,,,. th!!,. I;'b 1: ,!,S suc:t. [t is then th.1t
the .... arc coetted bv ~:-:ns ,::~ fe"lr and the l:. '11'.
Ac,orJingl~. the; nlt._ ... ;'C-: In ar.::;:.:t: times "f ~!'l\'e--fl\\'ning
states ii now vkwd from! jifcrcr.:-r:b1c. PSj..bolnoi.;..a.llv, the
initial sla\cs wcre those \\"10 n>!stcd the then customary bond
a~c. for they h.ad to tx:~h' maul' dat"cl, c!taincd and force.\
to work. Ilow~'cr P!l.r.1dOXiC..:.! this may sound, thc sL'wes w('re
initi"lh' mutineer) anJ rehe':. The s1:l\c s\')oteal did not appc.1t
until people bc~n lighting for !.i:C:r ri,,:,hts, nut was when they
hOld to he forced to their knees. Inl :miJ:1tion was the usual WilY
of obt,1inins:: obc..'JicnLe T'he sbn.!; of andent Rome were s:tlll'
rMl'd with 'fc.u, but the masters. tOO, were afraid of their ~L\Ycs .
To cope with thl' situ;ltlC'Il, the ru!in~ ..:l.lSSl" ilisued bws. forged
\\T.lpOlh, inVl'ntl"! go,b anJ (omnundments. In ,shnrt. the
~Ll\"(' SYSll'lllS ;lppl,lrl'd wlll'n pl'uplc ;ltfCmptl'd til r,,:slst S\;tH'fY.
()n(~' \\ .... ,t:r,l'p Ihi), we sec thl' wMldwidl' historic l i pmI!fl'';' mllfC l'il-.ul ... fWIll the dewpoint (1f the nl;l~S rsp.:ho\ogy.
;J'hc Ih\!,'ht1li)/otiol .11l,lh515 of progrcss, therefore. is not :1 mere
I"qll'tilinn tlf trUimls fro",' pol~tic:lt ,(":anomy, alt.hou.gh It .dnes
not wlltfadid them, In I:ngds ~ O"J:1II 0/ the famIly. Pm..'afc
Ie

,'h,

SOI1l~:

peoples still
way of life. Colonof tbU docility, :lnd

po
"t f)f th
It It
'J"'"'

/'ffJpNJ\' 4IJd fbi! .\11I1t' we lind .1 pOrULlC expression rendered

,ar Ie:: ,I ..r. f"noc c! r.li ao ,Ie i'';,il.tn&:c d.m. lei

....,,~ 'hICF;',>.~iAIIr, ol>u\'<'lIe ,<'ric, t. I (19 1 JP)1-V

1 \1. ,\1,111 I ' ',I

t l(II'

I',lri',

"

IH, I1.11'l"

" ".

' ..

IQ:j.

185

" ..... ~ as flthree. forms of ~ hlv.cry"; con not in;,;

psydlOll)~y.

...... . . , ...ticval feudahun and capitalist ImcJ lahour

_ . . . . . . . . . Ihb is reodered as "three form s of enslave

..w" ..... II ... es:prasive.

All the "three forms of slavery"

tne ~ ..... in the struggle against ~ l avcry. marked
. . ..,,.,. ~ in the mode of prodm:tJOn and other
diEd.. WldCD'u of toCial life. but also by the inner awaken-

iq;of , : m
Since we laft bae toIrled on the relationship between the
fund'l!I!l'otil _ _ of poIitic:a1 economy and the observations of
,.,...;.1 pqchoJogr, it may be patinent to notc the c((or an economist IDly (ommlt If be operata with a historically and psychoJosicaUy immutable atom-Homo occoDomicus-Lc., ma n running

hit .fain alona the """. elementary principles or, to be morc

IF e -ifie; """, the ODe elemeotary principle of misappropriation
and mCiGC) 1fUbbiq. Polirieel economy studies the objective
reI.tiooI bet.en people in lOCi,' production. Only the vulgar
pte vimti6c .. hool could identify this a s a sciencc
of m'mos mooey. That is DaUOW bourgeois vicw, O bjcctivc
economic relations, perticulady in the earlier prc-capitalist times,
wae baled alDDlll the majority of p: >pIe-and in early a ntiquitv
'''?'''!I aU peat'k oa .lj'utioD and waste rather than on ap pro'pn'boft and peed. It is ridiculoUl to oonfwe historical matcriali.m with the .tew dw: all mo'o punue material bcnc fit s only.
~ psy~l", of putpolive peed Will lubsequent to t ha t of
lavuh -:U~tlOo and ICrUpulou bal.nce. The political cconomy
0. a prurubve communal for ...tion rested on gratuitous d ona~. But .ubseq!.lU't ......,.wtic formations appearcd . rcycrsing
~. pqrchoJ~: I~. its products and all wealth wCre cxpropnakd . forably, Mc:dienl documents bear testimony of laws
~ ecltcu, odd ftom the colltunporary point of vicw limiting
"(QC' right to d
'
"If L_ _
~ 'I.e., lpoataneouliy give away propcrty.
It
WI
l1li; ceOlcm
that
Ru
..

'-,.I
'I"
q
d red tb ~ i1
J.ID. luuu.tna ISts and merchants
n e
el,r eu , acquired wealth freely, and perhaps
ogy :~h~&eW~ of
had ~t developed thc psycholare expre:'i~e of ;:: p
ve doUbODl and di!sipation? Both
"oan", belonging to the~ that all ,urrou?dtn~ PC:O Plc arc
for compenlation. and doubl . By co~!"t, alienatlO.n In return
pond to a "they" attitud
' 10 egoiltic accumulatIOn , corrcsoapitalism the.. _"'I ' e l?wardl all other people, Eyen under
HIt
,
EMln, a lmall
.
h f "
tha t continues by and I
be
communlty- t c amdyuse to pervaded by the "we" economic
miDd or

IOIDC

I::

bc:

8ri::n1

116

,
"

i.e. ,:.:;ratuitous alit nation of wealth and c 'n. INW'

ever: this. ~mal.l . wc.~rn\lp is r.'pidly breaking up, ,,'In-ImLC
c n n~ldcratlllllS mtru~11n1t to .J [X);nt where childan arc p~lid hy
IJaccnts fllr performmg 1~f)\I~ehf)ld chnrcs, The mnr,- a pcrwn,llity
hecomcl> .1n al1,(akulaung liomo ne.:onomicu, the \en i, its
('lp;lcity f'lf /-:<}oJ.
Marx~s .Capital L\}.i I};lre lhe concealed Cl:l.ttions of plundu.
expropn;\t1011 and sbvcry underl~'ing those of compen .... tion and
cl\uity. Man:: expl'lined to hired workers that they remain SLlVe~
in the most profound elOomic sen,e; they felt thi~ prior to the
appearance of Marxism, but wcrc unable to define it with the
d Te!;t that vast ma~~es of semi-p[()le[arian~. peas"nt~ and econumically underdevelopcd peoplcs wcrc not aware of their slavery.
In our time man is conscious of thesc survivals of slavery that
hc d id not perceivc or feel and hence accepted voluntarily by
the promptings of his inhcrited primitive psychology. Imperialism a nd colonialism and the falsehoods of politics and religion,
etc., arc no longer as powerful. are losing strength. Their grip
on the awakening man is loosening. That is why histury i, accel,
cra ti ng its pacc.
Man throws off undisguised s1avel)', he throwi off ~lavec~
clothed in capitalist frcedoms, He ovcrcomes extern;l\ slavery and
the inner survivals of the slave psychology, Three ~rc.\t forces,
clearl y interrelated. unite and organise thc effort: the camp of
socialist countrics, the national liberation struggle of the op'
pressed pcoplcs, and thc workin~-dass and communist movcments
in the capitalist countries.
.
. '
B ut Ict us return to what we said at the beglOmng: thc study
of universal history helps prcdict the future. How can we
cxtra polate this trcnd?
.
H cre is a vicw of Robe rt OppenheLmer, one of the mu~t
prominent men of 10th ccntu ry science; "In ~he most pri.mi~i \'e
societies if onc belicves thc anthropologLsts, the prinCIpal
fun ct ion' of ritual, rdigio n, of culturc is, in fact,. almo,t to st~lP
change. It is to provid~ for thc s?c,ial orga~Lsm \V h".t li fe
provides in such a. ~aglc way ~or, ilnng orgamsms, a klOJ of
homeostasiS, an ability to rcmaLD lOtact , to ~espo~d only very
little to the ob\'loUS conv ulsions and alteratIOns III the world
around. Tod;lY culture a nd H;lditio n havc ~ss~med a \"~rv
diffcrent intellectual and soc i,,1 purpose. The pnnopal f.un(llon
of the mo~t \'it;\1 and liv ing tradi tions w day is pn:cL,;e1~ to
rru\ilie the imtru ments of rapid eI,_m Ac. T here ;He m;lD\' thlOgs
187

..hich so Wguher to bring ~bou.t this. altl'f~r.~:ion ,11 lIall', life;

but probably the decisive one IS sCience It s~ .
Let UI put this into the terms of soc,lal r SHh , ) I I.l~\' I [1< Or\,
will "'ter dow down; on the c~ntnlt!. It \\!l1 WlltlllUC .~ lIlill ~
momentum. The means of coercIOn ,will drop .1W:l\' ~111l~ h\' 011\ '
Scieoti6c proof wlll be the 50k~ Instru.mc n~ hl'H~ 1Ilg people
Nothing can be done about that. And wIth tllll\.' I hl'> prnut will
have to be stricter and more. absolute.
.
.
.
.
AJ said earlier. world history IS a ~Igantlc tJPpns1tltlll lit pre
historic pre homans ("they") and the modl'tn 11l ;11l . or r;uhcr the
rapidly emcrgi"l human world. For th\I,us;\nd :<t of . YC;H S man h.1'
bo II refusing to be what he was C.UilCL In tim P Wl-tfcss the
boundaries between the different humlm communities grow less
distinct, become more labile and penetrable, while people as
sueb, all people, become more distinctlr the chid "WI.:" in
opposition to the past, overcome over and over ap:ain by ration'll
human activity,
1. ..nORy AND HISTORIES

Mankind is a community we have yet to consider.

It is a border category or a limit idea in all sociologica l
thinking, No outline of social psychology will be complete jf it
docs not deal with this largest of all communities. Peopl e arc
prone to consider their "we" as a constituent of a \'.lst whole,
?f mankind of the totality of men living on e.uth, InternationalISm stem~ from. an awareness of the bonds tying the workingclass, natJonai hberation and socialist movements of a countn'
to ,the con::esponding world-wide movements, coupled Wi tll
belief that Interchange and mutual aid on a world scale is
necessary,
, The concept ~f, mankind as one whole cxercise~ a stron "
mfluenc,e o~ political, moral and ethical, as well as scientifico
and logl,calldeas and related sentiment,
" The Id,ea of, universality has been part of political thinking
~I~ce anClcnt tl'!les. All attempts at establishing world elll ires
failed, Many tnbes and peoples remained Out of the reach of
ev~n such conquerors as Alexander the Great But alre a th
stOICS, not to mention political figures ideologists an'd 't y, e
,
" U 0pl ..ln s,

rroJl) R, Oppenheimer', article "Sci

NIlIlIut j Cheiot'echnlvo (ScieDCe and H en~e)

"

,
Wntt C' n

CUlture
ulDanlt)'. Moscow, 19 6 4, p, p ,

188

;111(.1

(,l r

11\,'dicVl!

iln

11

ll'fll, \"e !rne I (OJ

Jm~ or untlic .. tull of

m:lllklnd,
11"\lC~, h n" )..rt It ph,l.lSophy roten' ",llly impl\(
'm,nin
':el\'" ' 11' n'" 1 n C lib 'r uf orne' w~" ,.,roup opr '\111) some
'till v
v,.' 11lI~ht IV, n 'a I, that th- ")1 iiosophic 1 r. " 0,
, :thl~
i.W
I' C ".telC!: te the ld~:a .f mlukind, \VI-c
\li5'
cJ ' Iiltc I from III;"
.Ie, t ~nsc j, 'cJuc d to me: ru~tl.m '
'I'll" ilka of nlnkind i1 plte uly pre n In !:'C rLJlity of
..'lencc, illvc y demonstratIon and a~ t of logIC Truth
und\ .. Ik:Il~ed ~lIIce DescJ.ftcs underlie 'he dce~;t Illov -me lt~
(If
scientific th'llJ~ht , dcmons trabiliIY, acknowledJ.;.;mcnt of
10gi(;11 ncceo;:;ity and obliF:ation imply "a man", i,e" anyone
except ~m;lll ,hildren and the memall:; si,k. No o;,icno.:c i~
conceivable without the postulate of thc common nature of
intellect in all peoples and individuals irrespective of the
diffen;nce in cultural and hhtorical fcature~. Once thi~ is (Jvcrlooked, truth ceases to be truth, it becomes il mere convention
not bindi n ~ to all and, therefore. no longer uni\'crsal. TllU~, the
concept of mankind as one whole is a precondition of sC,icnce;
mo re, the concept of science, tOO, requires of the human mind t!J
cons ider the concept of mankind,
, '
On the other hand, though by virtue ,)f some of the prinCipal
aspect of our essence \\."e re-fcr ourselves t~ thi~ \'ast com~unit~,.
this giant "we", we cannot say whethcr It eXh,tcd .or eXists 10
reality, for all hi,tory ha~ been a sum of the ,hhto~!e~ of cou~
tries, peoples and civilisations, The word "hlstory IS u,sed ,Ill
the singular but concei\'ed in the plural. The World HistOries
supplied us now and then are essentially n~t a hi~tol)' but many
histories, hi~tories that like threads now Interweave, now run
parallel.
,
"
'
, I ' h' h' ,
Convcntionallr, the hl~tllfl.ln S !!oill IS to ex~ on.: t c I~tt)r)
of a country, To he sure, he may write the ,hls,to,fY of a more
. 1i1C ~u. b'ICl,t down to the historY
Inlhvldual.
partLcu
' " of an f
'
" But all
.,
agrce t1ut in these inst:lnces the ~ub,cct 0 , IOvestl,A;lt ,L!~~ IS
' I b' the cnnronment By contrast. an IOdl\ Id U.l !
1
(cterlHl ne(
,
"
I" f th h' toric :11
count ry is coll'sidercd ,10 "eI~~n7nta~)" partlc c 0
e ~~
,_
. 11
'ord "countr\' Impiles no\\' an econom ic com
prLlccs~ , . Ie \\
"
h .
t but
't. noW a people or a nation. I.e" an et !lIC commuOi ),
mum ~ 'f
_'
'nte or territon' limited by hound .u ies in the
more ten ~ome S ,
'
'I
h 1 'I ' '. th'
, ' .'
f tl' Gernun ~t.ltc"hl, stO
n(a
~(no,
jlOreO\ er,
c
~rllit Il" ' Knt '''pllnn t..:rn.
"
d ag,l
t th'eh-1C
k'countn
ton'
IS proje(te
l n~
,
~ Ul l "
' . .
d 1
'n\Ot!.'
hi'lllrk,ll
eruchs
when
the
country
It ntH
gnlu lll1 () f rl

189

,..,

'

in till'
,ldlllini,lmti
n: H"IHC
;lnd it,
..
., ,
"
eXI.
_.
Iw IlIinup.illti l'S I, W liJ~l' h;rnlofll' did
t ntory wa s til\!
l
.
"
c,
" . "'l'spond to
the nllulld.Hln
(hl'm~cd l. h,
not nC(CSS;lrl \ ( ( .
.
I ..
h S
'st cltllf:r 11\ til (,S

'p,',.,

Of

tribes that li,'cd then.' II( Iw Illlgr;lnt,I\(IH cS'., . '

_ .
In sum. the pmbh,:m "I world 11ISt~lry hllnJ-;~ Ih h.1\ k

IOBUlev

ttl ....,.("

and "they" group rcl.ltinns th.it ;l re Its n'n' tl,sSliC.

Every stage in the dc\'ciopr,lll'nt uf 1ll;\Ilklnt! had it~ OWn
prcdom'inant means of unin:n",' iI1.tL'r(h;ln~c:
,
... _
But only the epoch ot (;lPlt,llism dc\ eloped ollea ~v{)rld. "onnccti()n~. .such as. the world market, the
em b raCIng....
. f lIlllVCnal
.

economic tics and relationsh ips, J.;lobal tr,ansport, I n OI"J~:\tIOI\

and communication networks. However, It also gave ns~ ~/)
world antagonisms. The workers of .the. world are at one VIS-~
vis the world bourgeoisie. The capItalist ern, fr om the day It
emerged, produced antagonism between a fe:v capitalist COuntries and the non-capitalist world, most of whIch was converted
into colonies. Capitalism also gave rise to world clashes not
only for the division but also the rcdivision of the planet among
capitalist states. Capitalism is the cause of world wars. Its inner
contradictions exploded in a world antagoni sm between the
two socia-economic systems. It will be recalled that when Lenin
wrote in his article, "On the Slogan for a United State of
Europe", that socialism cou ld win first in a few or even one
separate capitalist state, he implied not isolation of that aile
state, but its antagonism to the world capitalist system. "After
expropriating the capitalists and organising their own socialist
production," he wrote, "the victorious proletariat of that
country will arise ol:oimt the rest of the world-the capitalist
world-attracting to its cause the oppressed classes of other
c?untries ... " 1 That is completely valid and appl icable to the
tIme when a whole socialist system- not one country-opposes the
world system of monopoly capitalism.
International relations in pre-capitalist times were not as
conflicting as capitali sm then rapidly made them. This docs not
mean, ho~ev~r,. that the notion of world hi story is not applicable
to prc-~apltabstlc epochs, be it in a much different sense. T ypical
o~ ancient and medieval history were chain relation s, i.e., n
dlr~ct .bond between a country and a few neighbouring ones,
whlc~ In tur~, ,had ties wit~ others. There one could hardly see
the \\orid-wllle nature of hIstory. It existed objectively, fo r no
j

V. I Le'lin, C"lIr(/," \'\:'",b. Vvl. II, p, l

190

.p.

not

veil the ~malll ~t Ind

nllJ\t Isol.lkd

reople

WI"f(

Idl lIulSlde till cluill rclatif)n~hir.

Fil1J.lI y, in C\"(:II l'nrlier time .. worldwilh 1Ii\lorl":,11 (e .II,ons
imply flot .\ r" .. itl\c interpenetration or inter'l!.:tiun wid, 111:1/.:h""urs, he it eClJnomi~~ll, dClllo;.;rarhie, politkal, ~ultllr.ll, hut ;1
nq.!,ui\c reLuifll1\hip, that is. reruhil,n ,HId i,,,tlli,m.
\Y/e f1li~ht ~<ly that mankind .It ~ir\t appe.lred .H ;\ fine We,tve,
the thn:ad~ of which, i.e., the boundaries and the wnLlI..h,
I.:<lrried In.)stiy a negativc charge, whkh, in effcct, did llI)t rule
'Iut somc diffusion and intermixinJ,;. At atHer st,IAe, region'll
interaction gradually gained ground, but Wo1', in the final
;1nnlysis, (mlr part of a universal chain system of which it,
l.:{)Iltemporaries were unaware. J.iolation wa~ a prominent
factor, but was now a political isolation and, fm this reason,
assumed the form of armed threat" to and defence from
neighbours. In the later times, ~'orld .[clati.ons carry a po~j~i\"e
dl<lr,ge ; they pervade separatIsm, IsolatIon. and htaAnatlOn,
transforming history into visibly uni\'er~al hhtory, and aJ.;o
produce world contradictions .and ~ntagf)ni.sms:
Those arc some of the dlalectlcal tram In the development
of the socia-historical objective and subjecti\".e phenomenon we
postulated as the basis of the science of socI~1 psychology and
defined as the "we and they" formula. The history of man h~s
not yet become a history of on.e "we" opposed to no on:,. In
which the "they" phenomenon IS reduce~1 to mere competltJ?n
. not a f'ISO a Ior
enmlt)
ald.h
as an expressiOn
n
, but of mutual
.
That is our view of the communis~ future "of ~~~k.'nd, thoug .
today this a~piration tow<Hds a unl\'cr~al we l'i Impeded b}
the forces of anticommunism.
h'
.
([es.
History WilS alw.1Ys more t han. a me re sum of many .I ~to
d'
Toda' historiology is still w.lnttng of .In approach ~(~ stu Y.ln~
)', y ,.lIstones,
'
but .histor)'
not on
' . . ' in ,the
. search of \\ Illdl an 1m
purt:lnt pbce goes to soua] Ps\ cholog).

"'0

3. PROSPECTS

'e lin" sections of this cho1pter ,Ire .1 sUnlffi;l(Y

The twO pre( ~ ::> problem, which prob,lbly hold the greatest
of tWO historiologlc;11
f h' totiClI so..:ieno..:e is tied to the
,
TI e ad\'anccnlCfl{ 0
IS.
,
, '
.,
rronll~c.
I . .' ndcd I.! of the laws A(J\ernin)4 til.! H\t:!(JCI
c,tcnSI\)l1 (If our kilt. .
J'JlIT "rebellion of the rn.\s~e~ -the
.
f th' nns~C". tnL II I.">
.
.,
,\Chon,
0
e ':,
. 'd the ire nf su(h bour/--:eOls \0(141 oghuh of histon
. whl( 1 .lfnU\e

g,

191

(I\el Ih.
wlti\h ,t,

1 GeaIet. Vb.isc, histnr\' will he., "I\e m'lrc

the barrien dividi ng 1\1.\lIkll1.1 IItu
"'!wau dif6cultic~ \\ill 1.1 ill .lrb .. ~"w
Bat hiltorical " il'lll"'" i~ fin.~II', hound
to . . . . . . . Pili" Kie..., ~ the m:\~scs ..1n.! 11I1I1kil1d.
ID. Wi, t:IIeIe orieatatioDl. h,.tory dL'alt Wil lI th,~ pn\~,i"T
0l and "eacmy". Thilt outinll , Iil kno:.! frurn
aoGta of
:,.,.." to .,.M. aDd will ., on cbanging. In the fl'Ill"I\.: p'l';( !Ill'
u;]
was the pt'....ntbropus. the aninul whitl. hllrn;ln~
avoided; laM the "enemy" wa. the stml1RI.' r, thl' nnn kin~man,
..L-.~'

-,

I ' " ;tn: I 1It' npprt'S_

..H:elgD 5; ; JD
a O"S
aodety
th
eO
cn..:mlt'S
lOR and _"en (or, convenely, the "rabhle "), :h
\\"1:11 ;l~
forTen, coaquJion. peoples speaking other Ial1 g 11 .lg(,:~, and,
Iin'!!r, outsiders. busics and pagans. Yet we Gill IInw look
forward to the time when enmity will give place: to :\ W;1I' of
argumentl ud proofs, thi' being the equivalent of Illutual .l id
-~-- .
. 111III enemlC~S,
'h
UIUICJ:
an.
camu:,.
t e uh"
t ey E!roup ~. IlI<1Y be
domb e J as aD e.septia( category of social ps)'chologv no less
tban its opposite: "ODe'. owu" aDd "we",
.
F

,lIId

"I

:i.. h:'ClOU'

=
;trugte

.
d

I,

lIlIT I

1 "t/\C 'N: II

.. ,I

I I
r.

II
~

'to

r. '
J

:\

In

th

(or

nifi(.;~

the

r t r
Ii
I
I.e '1

11111

11m
1

v.:)to.;

0.

Will, Wllhr'iJl

.:

'If

W~

Ih'

I'll

It

ten .. ' million

rllle .metlwl"

intiuud'r' uftu.:r tit , I,

, II t
~ '..:
.an oro., c
The I
... ud IlIli(.l 'm
fJfL.fLl _ we: _. '
'
In I
_OIn.
c.....
till,: rru(',ll c Il'na wI!
,::lb;:tr n ~ 1 u~ks)E ,,,,,dd t:.;uific
an~l.' I ~l I', rtll /J1:lr, th
:!.
f. lrn a r m .,rc~ramm,- III
1I 11l1111~ p.:1,pll
n' public: in -';: $0"11 I t mon anJ elUurln~
a ('HnmUlLll) )1 Inte, _ ts and joint KIOr. J) +hc; "urlung clan
!llld Iw;:tultr .\t tlrnt.., h}weve" rarity .hJuld I)e 'iven to
the l'unnumity of den t't th~ d. :3 and utiur.: ratilt:r than
to rapidity of pfl .e I, In 19!2 Lenin's viI w w. to 'Iink up
wit h the f".:a~;tnt m ... "', w th th- ranI. lnJfiJe workin~
pe'l ~'lnt'l llll! bcgm 0 rno\' focwud lnune-ltulLbly, inlinitelv
more ~lowly than \\'1,; expe :;J, but n sut.h J way that thl.: cntire
m:l\\ \\ i[1 :lllualh, m ,vc fe w.rc w th us,"
I.enin wolrtled, lOU\,;VC' thIt t' IS g.:num unity of lite Grell
h i~tory'm,lking 'wc 'l'_ ' lC Jr..!.! mint.d intenully by rC'SU\'G
allli lack of !>ince "ty .n_ truth n politics, propllg;'lnd,l llfld
.
:llt<1tlon,
The c,lpiLliist \nr- i is satUl ~tt.-ci with suspidon and t. ..ischooJ,
Capitali~t prupagand.l, and in some re~rccts also the socio
economic peacticc. arc at pains ['J create a ~ctlSC of common
interests and t<1,k~ in owners and workers alik(!. But these (tin"
struCts arc foiled br the facts, for at the core we sec much morc
than mere e(Onomic antagonism, Typical in this re;;pen W.li the
~trikc in the Genera[ ~Iotors shops in the u.S,A. in Septembe r
196-1, when the Jem;mds were more of a socio-psp:holoAic than
economic nature: workers in,iitt.'J on owners stopping to spy,
eave~drop and trans~n.'ss on hum<1n dignity, \Vh:\t an apology
uf a friendly "wc" ~wup of workers and I)wners! Sp\' ill ~ on
fel low ci t iZC ; I~, sh,ltiuwing: ,lnJ t',lH'!>~l ropring <1rc like ;\ C;l nccr
de'lli ng tk :nh ,lnll desnuaion on 'we group and (o1l1munity
.
fcding.
Lellin posited the ~tre ll gth ot the P;1rt\ and Soviet gO\crnment
on integrity: "Ou r prop,lganJ:\ ",nJ agit;ltilln mu\t he open ,lOll
,

ne

.::

Ii

COl/ ,:

.v.

"::1

',:11

wnll. III<

.-ua

A proo PI somc:what COOtlary to enmity and its historic.l [ role

il. ~ COIIIOIidatioa of penople for shouldering fund amental
h,ston~ ....b.
ta.h expand and small communities, e\'en
Q)!IfImUDltiel that U hied Iaqe enough only yesterday, Me no
~~~ ~~nlte. The solidarity and the number of people in
W!;K' h!Fto?~ -'we" poul?' will go on rising, Therefo re, the
:;". ~~'ng tuk of w,,1 psychology is to probe d eeper in
of o-:Cll'an1lml, patte'!'! aad rules underlying the formation
'te
nman commualtta, How to mould a gigantic compos'boa'
out of a ~t number of individual ones? H ow to
m a Bleat
com~te m' d
otradictionl
and CtCAhve
....
f r - , I n , one f tee f ro m (oncra~, out 0 many mlDd.)
Go back to the Louin"ut
'
,
urpose is....
'
h d lC1en~ of revolution, Its ulti mate
P
..... unite t e lOpiets lDto ri I t ' I
'
vast current to unite h d d
f h vu e s, llVU ets JIlto a
lions pushio; forward i:d.~
t ,ous~nds ,into t ens of mil~
Jike-oriented energy, Lenin wr ~ ~lrectl0n, I,e" c~arg:ed with
drill-sergeant method. racdled~' "We a,re rcrlacmg the old
will of the majority, ~th the
boUrg~I' soc~et.r ~gai n st the
worketl and pe,.antl who
b'
dlsclplme of the
with a determination ~illty
lD
tred of the old society
their fotceJ for this
rea fuess to unite and org<\ni ~~
and hundreds of mUlioas : : .. tole r~e t,he will~ (If millio n ~
peop -Cl!luDlted, and scutl.'n:d

:\ h .. '..

t "ll

I. 1."I1;n, C ,fJ .:I. i 11",1:>,

l lI,iJ, "'l!. 11>, p. ~ . '~.
t "

,'"I.

,I.

311,;,1, \",1. II, pr. 1717:

193

p. !~II,

lllore

ondly. on tht" rn .. btlJl, In transition :I"()m a glvc'n <:t of ,,)n

dltions to I I new, ,ne
It j~ ~3 k t~, i.l lim' th.(t y'1Cnomcn.l of social j; "holC}~\'
covered by noti'JIl ot l,~blt, 1l1d'tal m.,k.. up ,1IId h.lhiu \\'tll
wanc. Ilu m,m 1',.,.1.:11;' In the con ~1Ufllil so< ~c:y i~ to be viSII;)1
iced a s m'J rc mflhiic th,lO ttl,. ,)t t"h~. Trl;:t ",,:11 stem from
the objCd ivc d:.namic, of lire,

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