Dearest friend,

If I were to explain in a word the reason for our pain, I would say that you've been more progressive than us. We've hopelessly lost touch with the latest ideas. We did our best to be among the leaders of the international avant-garde at the beginning of the century, yet we couldn't do it for long: you outpaced us. Now we can only look at you receding from us and reproach ourselves for not having been sufficiently resourceful.

In this letter, I would like to dwell upon the notion of the avant-garde. You'll no doubt agree that this word signifies a lot in the world today: not just civilisation but also progress. Despite (or on account of) this, the term perplexes me. When we speak of the "avant-garde," we never specify of what it is the avant-garde. Yes, it's ahead of its time, and it's a leader, yet a leader of what? For many years, Russian communists believed themselves to be in the vanguard of social reform. Now we know that Leninism was a dead end, yet there are other things, or so we Russians like to believe, of which we can be proud. For example, our artistic avant-garde undoubtedly became part of the heritage of world civilisation; after all, you told me so yourself, dearest friend. Yet the term "avant-garde" has long ceased to denote a local artistic movement and came to refer to the direction in which world history is developing. Thus it's all the more a pity that we've been excluded from the mainstream of contemporary history.

Today, at a time of the triumph of civilisation, the term "avant-garde" no longer refers to a small group of innovators but to the way of thinking of the majority. The avant-garde, signifying a system of beliefs, has become the symbol of the liberal and democratic West, i.e., of that society against which it had originally intended to rebel. As the triumph of the avant-garde becomes generally acknowledged today, it's increasingly difficult to find answers to a number of questions: what conception of freedom lies at the root of this movement? What kind of social system does it represent? What ideal of human relations does it incarnate? The avant-garde was conceived as an apology of communism, yet it flourished in a capitalist society. The avant-garde rejected classical art as being far removed from reality, yet it, too, became conventional and decorative. The avant-garde rose up against commercial art, yet it became a highly lucrative enterprise. If one regards the avant-garde as the quintessence of Western culture, what culture does one have in mind ? the pagan or the Christian one? Last, the most important question: what is the result of avant-garde art? After all, the final product isn't art but the individual who was formed by it. Does he appeal to you? Is this the kind of person you wanted?

You say that the twentieth century changed Western art. Yet, you know, dearest friend, I've the impression that what took place was more than a simple change in art but that a certain mission of the West came to an end, and this made its art change. I understand that these words sound foolish coming from me and especially when addressed to you, the victor. Yet allow me to continue.

You know, I've always wanted to isolate in the table of cultural elements the element of the avant-garde and to dwell upon it separately. It is clear that this element figured in many great events and, in the company of other elements, gave different results every time. For example, in the case of Picasso, it was combined with the tradition of Catholic and Mediterranean art. In the case of Chagall, it was mixed with Jewish sentimentality and the romanticism of Paris. However, it'd be interesting to be something of an alchemist and to separate this element so as be able to consider it in its pure form. All the more so that it tends to become self-sufficient and to dispense with admixtures. Formerly, phenomena were said to be avant-garde; now the avant-garde movement itself has become a phenomenon (not a flying bird but flying itself).

One is tempted to say that the avant-garde is the spirit of the times. For example, no one would doubt the fact that Paul Klee is a representative of the twentieth century and that Gilbert Keith Chesterton isn't. In the same way, one can compare Mann and Khlebnikov, Camus and Duchamps. It is clear that Klee, Khlebnikov and Duchamps are pure avant-gardists, like ferments without admixtures: they are the vehicles of a spirit of change. Were Chesterton to take a look at contemporary art, he could no longer call its creators drunkards (as did one of his protagonists at an exhibit of futurists); on the contrary, he'd be considered a drunkard himself if he were to behave inappropriately. By comparison with avant-gardists, Rilke, Frost, Pasternak and Auden seem hopelessly outdated. Does that signify that the spirit of the times itself doesn't confer quality? It's something higher than quality: it's more important.

One would like to draw on the military terminology from which the word derives. "Vanguard" and "radicalism" are very courageous words: after all the members of a vanguard are the most courageous soldiers. Yet there's a contradiction here. It's easy to find avant-gardists who incited people to rebel. Yet you didn't see them on the field of battle. It's a simple truth that some people rebelled and others fought. There were writers and artists who were anti-fascists, yet they weren't avant-gardists. On the other hand, neither Klee nor Kandinsky took part in the Resistance. As to Hemingway and Camus, what kind of avant-gardists are they? Dozens of instigators of rebellion emigrated to the United States, far away from the front, and didn't create anything there that could have helped in the war. Perhaps their declarations were misinterpreted, or perhaps wars and revolutions require different aptitudes.

One could also assert that the avant-garde is a factor responsible for the radicalism of thought. Yet what is radicalism? If we were to base ourselves on the word's meaning, there's nothing more radical than hunger, sickness or death. In order to be closer to them, you've got to be at war or in India or work at a hospital. No one would ever call Albert Schweitzer a radical, however. Or does this word denote those who reject the artificiality of art and prefer to express themselves directly? In that case, there would be no one more radical than Solzhenitsyn, who's no avant-gardist, however. If the term refers to a fundamental change of form, how can one reconcile the fact that as soon as a new form is developed, the avant-garde movement stops in its tracks in order to be recognised as avant-garde?

The task of isolating and describing the avant-garde element has occupied me for a long time: I thought that if I were to perform this alchemist's work, I might discover the secret of movement and progress. Moreover, when I tried to isolate the avant-garde element ? an element that would be responsible for both destruction and creation ? I wondered what does the avant-garde destroy and what does it leave intact. Today, I will try to define the material that is the avant-garde. I'll do it above all for the sake of the avant-garde itself. The latter has been canonised for a long time now, and it determines the development of free and civilised society, yet every dogma deserves to be overcome and all the more so a dogmatic conception of freedom.

What I'm about to say will seem blasphemous to you, dearest friend, yet I beg you to read it attentively.

I believe that the avant-garde (in the sense accorded to this term today) never existed. It didn't exist even when Duchamps exhibited the first pissoir, Malevich painted the first square, and Dali drew the first genitals. It never existed at all. I believe that the values that this movement offers don't open any new horizons for the freedom of spirit. I believe that the postulates of the so-called avant-garde have nothing in common with the problem of freedom in the sense that the Renaissance accorded to this term or the sense given to it in the context of Christian culture. In fact, the avant-garde expresses something very different.

This can be most clearly seen by considering the case of the Russian avant-garde. Properly speaking, there never was a Russian avant-garde, for the avant-garde brought to light what had existed in Russia long before Christian art; it was simply the return of Russian paganism and nothing more.

The Russian avant-garde of the early twentieth century is the most radical expression of classical Russian nationalism. That's how it always was in Russia: people stuff themselves with liberal Western lies and begin to hunger after ungainly Slavic truth. Larionov, Malevich, Khlebnikov and Rodchenko were all followers of Danilevsky and predecessors of Vyshinsky. The Russian avant-garde is a typical example of Slavic mystical nationalism ? stupid and vulgar. And also dangerous, as is every nationalism and every uncontrollable elemental movement.

Christian art in Russia had a role that may be compared to that of the proletariat: it was created in an artificial way and was then violently rejected in favour of other things. Malevich could "end" art quite easily, for no one, properly speaking, ever began it. Russia progressed from the carved idol to the sign, i.e., from pagan to neo-pagan times, and in the process passed over the short (not to say instantaneous) period of Christian and secular art. Intent on building a pagan empire, Russia called on the artistic avant-garde to support its ambitions. Of course, the latter didn't simply work to order. One is able to do such things only if he puts his heart and soul into it. Artists began to work to order later, after an obedient generation had been formed. The dull laments of the humanists were replaced by bright and vital symbols. All that we so reverently call the avant-garde is in fact a drawn-out Russia pagan festival with jesters, idols, farces, mutilation, rape and slaughter. Malevich, the creator of new Slavic idols, Larionov with his Russian folk prints and rayonism, the futurists, who were sun-worshippers, and Khlebnikov with his "new language" gave expression to just one thing: an elemental force that had slumbered under the surface of Christian culture and that woke up. Kandinsky in his book On the Spiritual in Art speaks about the need for reviving the "supreme consciousness" that was innate to primeval chaos and that is not subject to rules and laws.

Just consider the titles of avant-garde works: Sermon on the World's Growth, The Tale of Two Squares, Svyatogor's Burial Mound, Snezhimochka, The Rite of Spring, Victory over the Sun. That's no great utopia, as one tries to define the avant-garde today. Does it even resemble a utopia? Is it not the type of thing that once astounded barbaric minds? Was it not this black-square feeling that led the Slavs to the gates of Constantinople? The avant-garde was a return to Russian epics, to pagan polytheism and to a virgin soil not touched by Christian culture. What does utopia have to do with it? The Black Square is indeed the end of art, for Christianity and Humanism could not coexist with pagan symbolism; they were less vigorous than people thought. It's remarkable that those who admire Malevich wisely subdue their inclinations and refrain from admiring Dzerzhinsky, too. One has but to recall that Menzhinsky, another member of the Cheka (indeed, Dzerzhinsky's deputy), was an avant-garde artist who had spent his youth in Paris, a city that was seething with ideas at the time. Yes, it was a rebellion of pagans and an uprising of titans. Khlebnikov was the one who best expressed the essence of the Russian avant-garde in his verse "Perun angrily pushed Christ aside."

When, in the thirties, Perun was joined by Odin and Thor, they combined their efforts to give things a good shove. The monumental naturalism of Stalinism and the Third Reich grew out of the shaman spells of the early avant-garde in the same logical fashion as the pagan colossi grew out of Chaos. Socialist realism was a direct successor to the avant-garde. That's no invention of the communist regime ? it's the truth. After all, the avant-gardists wanted their experiments to give rise to a "new human being." The emergence of the latter is therefore nothing to be surprised at. When the titan grew to his full size, he naturally swallowed his parents: in the contest between two pagan deities, the fatter and larger one got the upper hand, in accordance with the laws of this faith. Today the deity of socialist realism has been overthrown in his turn, and a new idol has come. It came from you, the West, it's desired and welcome, and it's even fatter and more progressive. Yet isn't today's idol exactly the same little red-faced deity as his parents? Yes, you taught me to fight against socialist realism, yet why didn't you warn me that socialist realism has a brother ? a Big Brother ? who's called capitalist realism? Both of them ? socialist realism and capitalist realism ? are the descendants of the avant-garde movement of the early twentieth century. Both of them are faceless, fierce and socially committed. The only difference between them is that today one is weaker. What's so much better about the new titan? Isn't his faith constituted by the same elements: power, progress and radicalism? Aren't we still living in the age of the triumphant avant-garde? Yes, he'll swallow his predecessor. Yet, tell me, should we really expect him to perform miracles? And won't there be someone else who's even bigger and who'll come to replace him? How can you invite me to celebrate such a victory? I know that you'll say that the worst is behind us, that totalitarian regimes have been overthrown and that a bright future is in store for us. Why is it then that in this victory of one titan over another I can see someone else who will come and replace them ? the child of civilisation and progress, lacking feelings and soul? And when the time of pagan Eurasia comes, do you know what will be depicted on its banner? A black square.

You'll ask why I'm wasting your time and mine by dwelling upon these details. What is the purpose of these artistic digressions? Should this questionable artistic analysis be generalised? I'm doing it, dearest friend, for the simple reason that I'm convinced that the upheavals that are in store for us are the result of a false and dangerous understanding of the nature of the avant-garde. No, the point isn't to uncover the errors of socialism or of the Russian understanding of civilisation. It's our very conception of civilisation and its semiotic nature as well as our understanding of radicalism and the avant-garde as the motor forces of history that will soon make us members of warring camps (if they haven't already done so). This is what I wanted to tell you.

Do you know what's going to happen? The competition between semiotic systems will inevitably give rise to a new semiotic system, which will come to the surface from the depths of a deeply hidden earthly existence and which will be powerful and avid for victory. I fear that this new semiotic system may turn out to be Eurasia ? a bare territory, a wasteland, which is not governable by religion or reason but only by willpower and strength. You might ask: where will this subjugated territory get its strength from? It's you who'll imbue it with strength. After all, you gave it your faith in the power of signs, and that suffices. It will make the wastelands budge, and the dead fields will begin to move. It will make the black square ? the symbol of our wasteland that is without soul and contains no love or anger, but only darkness and filth -- feel truly important. And who'll be to blame when darkness and filth declare themselves to be a radical force? Only you, dearest friend: there's no need to search for other culprits.

The time will soon come ? it's already on the doorstep ? when this letter will be outdated and in vain. You'll get it when it's too late to change anything. I'm writing about events that have already taken place: I can't keep up with them. Yet there's at least one thing that can still be changed. Perhaps this will no longer be of any use to you or me, yet it's not too late to see things simply and clearly, as they really are, to understand what was the historical significance of the avant-garde and what its consequences were, and to understand why the avant-garde is the opposite of the Renaissance. It's not too late to understand that the civilisation that resulted from the avant-garde does not necessarily bring about happiness. I'm writing in so much detail about culture and art for the simple reason that it was the aesthetic revolution that took place in all of our minds and in our consciousness that made things what they are today. No, this is no minor detail, my friend; it's something that conditions our lives and the lives of our children. This is what we ? both you and I ? have paid such a price for and continue to do so, and it'd be a real shame if we didn't understand it clearly at some point. And, having understood it, if we didn't say it out loud for all to hear.

I believe that the history of art of Christian countries can be described in a nutshell as a progression from the sign to the image and back to the sign. Art in Russia has gone down the same path, except that it did it on a smaller scale and in a shorter period of time. The art of Christian Europe always had need of barbaric grandeur; in fact, it was able to develop only thanks to the grandeur of the faceless sign. The task of Christian art was to endow it with life and love, to make it open its eyes and to give it a soul. Nevertheless, art kept constantly turning to pre-Christian times in search of vital energy. It turned from the cities that were satiated with culture to godforsaken places. This was something of a blood transfusion, as well as a colonisation: opening new land, art incorporated an archaic language into Christian thought. Like a voyager who goes ever deeper into unexplored territory, where neither map nor compass are of any avail, Christian art in search of new forces and new territories gradually forgot why it set out on its journey. Likening art to a tree, Klee said, "in order to give sap to the trunk and treetop, we've got to descend to the roots." The colonial approach of Christian art is over. The twentieth century is the century of total decolonization, which has had destructive results in all fields from politics to aesthetics.

In the last century, progressive European intellectuals created an artistic language and form which were also a content. To be more precise, they were broader and larger than the content, for they not only contained the latter but also left room for the irrational ? for, so to say, conviction as such. It doesn't matter what type of conviction it was: some conviction or, to put it more simply, some force. We can compare it to an amulet: it is virtually everything, yet expresses nothing concretely. Such a thing or sign becomes the object of faith. However, in contrast to the image (for example, the icon), it contains no information and is furthermore not subject to the constitutive element of the image ? morality. The creators of such a language profoundly differed from the creators of artistic images. Just like an artist who depicts an apple differs from the apple itself.

The avant-garde movements in the East and West almost coincided, and the dates of their transformation into a massive torrent (i.e., the dates of the closure of the Vkhutemas and the Bauhaus ? a period when the Chaos engendered colossi) are also the same. One often hears people calling these stormy years, which were fateful for civilisation, revolutionary and the creators themselves rebels.

Permit me, dearest friend, to express a very different opinion in my letter. It seems to me that the avant-gardist was no rebel and that no revolution occurred. I believe that a simulation of a rebellion or revolution took place and that its goal was to enhance the glory of civilisation and its triumph. Yes, those were advance guards, they routed and overthrew, yet it wasn't civilisation that they attacked. They only pretended that they wanted to overthrow civilisation: in reality, they served it faithfully. No one ever had the intention of changing the way art was utilised in society. On the contrary, when the avant-gardists came out against museums, they wanted in reality that their works be exhibited there; when they made fun of the tastes of the bourgeois, they dreamt of selling their works to these very people. In that case, what were they trying to overthrow? I believe that the answer is clear by now, but I'll continue anyway.

From the point of view of logic, the return to primeval consciousness doesn't contribute to civilised understanding. Yet this was precisely the paradox of avant-garde art: it didn't destroy anything, it only imitated destruction. Society had no reason to worry: the negation of civilisation was a show that took place on stage and before an audience of investors. What would have resulted if the avant-gardists had only done it for real, i.e., on the ruins of museums or among savages! No, dadaist insanity felt at home in Zurich, and surrealism took root in Switzerland and Belgium ? places where everyday life bears little resemblance to surrealism. Klee wanted to paint with the spontaneity of a child, yet he hardly wanted his works to be perceived in the same way. What was attacked was not civilisation itself but its content ? Christian and humanist art. After having expelled the latter, the avant-gardists took its place and began to enjoy the comforts of civilised life. Similarly, in the process of decolonization, savages eat missionaries yet don't disdain to use their tools: after all, museums, locomotives and guns may come in handy. I repeat: the avant-garde simulated its rebellion against civilisation. The avant-gardist is a parasite of civilisation and no rebel. Moreover, he may well turn out to be a traitor, for he opens the door to forces that one day will sweep civilisation away and the avant-gardist along with it.

Yet neither avant-gardists nor civilisation are in the least prepared for this: although they fight in public, they embrace each other backstage and think that their union is eternal. Civilisation created avant-gardists as a prop for its own authority. It was like being vaccinated against smallpox, which one does in order to avoid contracting the disease. The human organism fights viruses by producing antibodies. A self-satisfied society that was afraid of change produced antibodies against the virus of revolution in order to contract a weak form of this disease. The society of the victorious Enlightenment was able to absorb the phenomenon of revolution. It gave rise to the notions of the avant-garde, modernity and radicalism, which served as antibodies against the notion of revolution.

Civilisation dealt with the problem of revolution in a simple way. In order to avoid it, civilisation decided to imitate it permanently and so train a generation of tame, good-for-nothing radicals. Assimilated in bourgeois culture and serving as indispensable components of a cosy view of the world, the avant-garde and radicalism became guarantees of stability. The society of the victorious Enlightenment has a revolutionary consciousness, which allows it to maintain the status quo eternally. The vaccine of the avant-garde, i.e., rebellion in a diluted form, protects civilisation against trouble: people stage performances in order to avoid cataclysms and erect installations in place of barricades.

The purpose of the avant-garde is to make the contemporary world stagnate. The twentieth-century avant-garde movement (and the understanding of progress, freedom, etc., that went along with it) is the embodiment of bourgeois aesthetics and therefore a pillar of civilisation. Civilisation was able to organise the production of socially useful rebels. They are like toothless bull-terriers (or some other ideal canine breed). The struggle for human rights and the struggle for self-expression are the food thrown to them by spectators. If the contemporary intellectual swallows it, he deserves no pity. Civilisation visits contemporary art museums like one goes to see open-air cages with wild beasts on an afternoon trip to the zoo: just look at that one with stripes! ooh! he's so dangerous!

You'd be fully entitled to interrupt me here; indeed, I've been waiting for a long time for you to break off my confused speech. You'll ask: haven't I gone too far in my generalisations? You'll remind me of the tragic and exceptional lives of artists. Don't I consider freedom to be the goal of history? And if so, why doesn't the avant-garde suit me? You'll also ask without doubt: was I right in bringing together the avant-garde and civilisation and, on the contrary, in separating civilisation and Christian culture? Wasn't it Christian culture, you'll ask, which served as the basis for this civilisation? Didn't this civilisation develop out of Christianity? And, if so, the avant-gardist serves to revive faith in the same way as the Gospel renews the Covenant. And doesn't faith draw its life precisely from such rebellious freedom?

Such an objection is appropriate, and I accept it. I only believe that the tragic and exceptional lives of artists don't necessarily speak of their spiritual orientation. Their greatness needn't be linked to humanism: in fact, pagan art is (in my opinion) more majestic and grandiose than Christian art. The latter is very frail, and one can only wonder at its great longevity; on the contrary, its decline is nothing to be surprised at.

The avant-garde was a return to that great and triumphant paganism that was at the origin of the Egyptian pyramids and the Babylonian colossal sculptures. Yes, you're right, I believe that the avant-garde was no rebellion against civilisation but that, on the contrary, it was a sign of the latter's triumph. The appearance of the avant-garde movement indicated that civilisation had reached the point where it was able to dispense with its Christian content and become a self-sufficient historical force. It felt the need to reject its former cultural habits, which had become burdensome to it. The task of clearing and liberating was performed by the avant-garde. Yes indeed, I believe that the subsequent development (i.e., transformation) of the avant-garde into Stalinism and Nazism was no accident and that it didn't go against civilisation's plans. I believe that contemporary art continues to go down this path and to become ever more self-sufficient and haughty.

This assertion of mine will shock you, I'm sure. How dare you! you'll tell me. Didn't the avant-gardists become the first victims of tyrants? And, above all, didn't civilisation combat fascism as an extreme form of barbarism? Fascism is barbarism that was defeated by civilisation. You'll no doubt say something to this effect.

I perfectly understand that no one likes to think that civilisation gave rise to fascism; it doesn't sound very pleasant, after all. The citizen of the open or partially open society finds it unpleasant to hear the question posed in that way. Yet fascism didn't emerge in a civilised society out of nowhere. You've got to explain this damned phenomenon somehow. After all, it did arise, it was there, and there's nothing you can do to change that fact. One likes to quote today Ortega y Gasset's expression about the "vertical invasion of barbarism." Civilisation isn't safe, as one likes to say in such cases: savages can burst in at any moment and smash up everything. Western civilisation was on the whole created for the purposes of assuring the common good, yet malfunctions do occur sometimes!

Vertical invasion! What a nice way of putting things! What did this barbarism vertically invade, may I ask? Germany, Spain, Italy, Romania, Hungary, etc., as well as all other Western countries in one form or another: all countries at once? And everywhere vertically and unexpectedly? Civilisation was doing fine when all of a sudden barbarism vertically invaded everything at once! As if the skies opened and vertical invasions poured down everywhere. Such a point of view seems to me to be wilfully dishonest. This is like saying that Jews were responsible for the Russian Revolution or that Tatars isolated Russians from the West.

I see things differently. A group of barbarians can't possibly act (or rationally plan their actions) in the name of a civilised society. An entire civilised society can't change in a split second into a barbaric one. All of this is possible only on one condition: barbarism and civilisation are neither antagonists nor opposites. They're a single entity; they prolong and complement each other. Civilisation is just a stage of barbaric development; it assimilates, preserves and enhances all the hereditary characteristics of barbarism. The latter has no need to break through the armour of civilisation, for it is a form of civilisation itself.

Fascists were very civilised people; in fact, they were the ones who embodied civilisation the most coherently and who became its avant-garde, after having replaced the artistic avant-garde. They wanted to destroy only poorly or inadequately civilised peoples. They destroyed, properly speaking, only what didn't conform to the conception of a pure civilisation ? for example, Christian culture. What did they do wrong? What is there to be indignant about? Yes, they "went too far," as Stalin used to say, in what they did to Jews; yet they were set right, one mustn't forget. Of course, they shouldn't have bombed Coventry and Guernica so pitilessly, yet it was war, you know. Naturally, their methods are to be condemned. Yet not their civilising goals, don't you agree? Of course, it's better not to kill and burn ? the method needs some fine-tuning ? yet wasn't all colonial policy (which was aimed at civilising barbaric territories) the same?

This is what I'll answer today, dearest friend: the enemy of civilisation isn't barbarism but something completely different. At a certain stage of its development, the so-called Christian civilisation inevitably stopped feeling the need for Christianity as such, which hindered progress. Christian civilisation has long lived and triumphed in spite of Christian principles and not on account of them. Civilisation sees itself as neo-paganism and a vital force.

The mission of the avant-garde was to express this vital force and power. This is precisely what it expressed in the 1910s and what it said even more clearly later. In my opinion, the will to power is the ferment of avant-garde thought. Does this have anything to do with Christian art, i.e., with the West's former mission? I doubt it.

At this point, you'll surely remind me that Spanish fighters carried reproductions of Guernica with them. You're right: according to the legend, fighters in the international brigades carried reproductions of Guernica; yet I doubt that a single one among them ever put a reproduction of Mondrian into his blouse. Nevertheless, in that war, just like in that century, it wasn't Picasso but Mondrian who won.

Franco routed the communards, civilisation set Franco right, freedom and democracy triumphed, yet it's not Picasso who expressed this triumph. After individual liberty was recognised as the supreme achievement of civilisation, and democratic civilisation as the supreme achievement of history, it was time to create idols and shrines that would serve the needs of this cult. Artists became idols of sorts: they acquired a lot of importance, and their individual flaws and traits were considered to be the majestic features of local deities. Naturally, European society had never treated artists like this before: the cult of the artist appeared for the first time. It had been unthinkable so long as one admitted the existence of a Supreme Creator. The Renaissance hadn't known anything of the sort. Thus, the emergence of a cult with respect to individuals that were, for the most part, of dubious reputation and quite unlike Leonardo da Vinci, for example, is all the more surprising. Like idols, they embodied the idea of unconditional freedom that called for endless sacrifices. The Christian tradition considers freedom within history and in relation to history, whereas civilisation sees freedom as being self-sufficient.

When the man in the street looks at lines and squares and asks what the artist meant, the answer's very simple: nothing. The artist didn't want to say anything. He was simply expressing himself, which is something valuable in itself. Since artists are, as human beings, often uninteresting, there's nothing that they can express except simple, primordial forces. That's more than enough, however. Artists have ceased to be individuals in the Christian sense of the word and have become idols.

The history of Western art is like the history of an empire that is rapidly disintegrating into small nationalities with local chiefs, provincial dialects and indigenous idols. Every minor style or movement resembles a tribe, and the history of art is governed by the laws of cultural tribalism. The paganism of Hitler and Mussolini was too weak to overcome the Christian West, yet the idea of Christian freedom itself changed and acquired a pagan aspect.

Modern phraseology continues to employ the word "individual" yet doesn't assign any concrete meaning to this term. It serves as a symbol of European culture. To make things clearer, one can compare this situation to the market: after all, culture has long since become a market. No one needs to see gas or oil or to know how much gold is really present in the country: the market's only interested in stocks and securities, i.e., the symbolic expression of gold, gas and oil. Sometimes (or even as a rule), this game leads to a stock market crash. Culture has essentially experienced the same kind of crash. Cultural brokers (who call themselves cultural critics) have become more important than creators of culture. For several decades now, people have been saying that the traditional forms of art ? the novel, painting, etc. ? are dead. This is understandable: if one were to create a work that resembles those of the past, he'd be comparable to a seller who came to the securities market with a bucket of oil. The culture of the individual (i.e., the heritage of the Renaissance and the reason for the West's greatness and fame) has been converted ? I continue to draw an analogy with the market ? from gold stock to paper currency; it continues to exist as a symbol yet in reality has long since ceased to be. Art has become shallow, yet that doesn't matter in the least, for art symbolises a tumultuous stream, the balance account shows an unstoppable flow, and that's more than enough for the cultural market.

It's well known that four columns of troops loyal to General Franco marched against Madrid. The saboteurs that were active in the international brigades' rear became known as the "fifth column." Yet the avant-garde would have won were it not for the sixth column. The sixth column was the avant-garde itself.

You'll grow weary when you reach this point, and you'll either put this letter aside or laugh. Or, if you still have enough patience to teach me, you'll say: you've been very ardent, and you've been avant-garde in your own right. You are rebelling against civilisation, yet in the name of what? Isn't it civilisation itself which allows you to do so?

Civilisation, as you'll justly remark, has many other less solemn yet just as important purposes. For example, civilisation allows you to say everything you're saying openly and freely. The very organisation of life ? social interaction, daily life, material well-being, etc. ? isn't this a measure of historical development? Become a worthy member of the civilised society of equals! As to the fact that this society likes to decorate itself with badges and symbols, well, you've just got to accept it, for it deserves it.

What have you got to say in reply to this just assertion?

If this were a letter from Anacharsis to Solon (if, in other words, I could pretend to be as wise as the Scythian Anacharsis ? as to you, I've always considered you to be a worthy descendant of the great Solon), I'd say at this point: Worthy Solon, you once honoured me with your friendship despite my barbaric origins. You were everything to me: a teacher, a model, almost a god. Tell me, has my devotion to you over the years given me the right to ask you a question? If so, do you consider it good that the difference between us is measured in terms of origin and customs and not intellect and virtue? One day, or so we like to believe, all differences will disappear, and a brotherhood of peoples will emerge. What will serve to bind this brotherhood? Yes, the ideal is a society without race, yet what will bind humanity together? Solon would have most likely told me, Anacharsis, that this brotherhood will be bound by equity, i.e., social law, and morality, i.e., ethical law. Then I would have asked: tell me, sage, how will these laws be instilled ? through experience, imperial decree or the power of civilisation over barbarians? After all, we clearly have different notions of equity and morality. Most likely, conquest will be the only means. Civilisation, as any other empire, will have to declare itself a force that unites the world. In such a union, won't the dominance of the strong over the weak continue to exist? Isn't there another way to inculcate law upon mankind? In my opinion, Solon would have answered: no. Yet, he would have continued, when union is achieved, the law would make everyone equal. Then I, Anacharsis, would have said: Worthy Solon, I fear that the distinction between Greeks and Scythians would always exist in such a State in a latent form. This distinction would be expressed by the words "more civilised" and "less civilised." Yet it would only mean one thing: the distinction between Master and Slave. And, no matter how abstract these laws are, I will always remain a Scythian and you a Greek. Isn't there a way for us to unite first in love and then in equity? If not, give us Scythians civilisation, for that's all that we deserve. As I've already said, we've got nothing to lose. And let the black square be our banner. We deserve it.

Soloviev's question, "the Russia of Xerxes or the Russia of Christ?" can easily be applied to the whole world. Even if Xerxes were to possess such virtue that it would eclipse the virtue of Cyrus and Caesar, charity won't ever be an attribute of civilisation. And now, dearest friend, returning from Solon and Anacharsis to you and me, there's one more thing that I'd like to tell you briefly.

You're accustomed to viewing history as a process that exists only in the West. The West imagined that everything that happens in the world happens in the West or for the West. It was convinced of it and forgot that the centuries of European triumph were preceded by an even longer period of Eastern triumph. However, at the very moment when the Western will was colonising Eastern territories, a reverse process took place: the East, represented by the cult of the impersonal and the supra-personal, penetrated into the consciousness of Western man and began to combine with his pagan past. Both Nietzsche and Marx were "easternised," and the idea of Western history, i.e., the idea of personal liberty, began to resemble an eastern cult. A century that was marked by the struggle for human rights didn't do anything to assure these rights. They are of no use anyway to him who lives in the nirvana of freedom: he only needs the right to possess rights, and he expresses the possibility of self-expression. The twentieth century was a lost crusade. The century's end ? its final third ? was a pitiable time. It produced nothing to be proud of: the triumph of civilisation was accompanied by the decline of culture. In this crusade, the avant-garde played a pitiful role ? a traitor's role, if you prefer.

Does this mean that the Christian paradigm is at its end? This will be the case only if this crusade turns out to be the last. We must make another attempt to bring about a new Renaissance. I believe that this is the only way out. We must abandon our faith in force and civilisation in favour of the new Renaissance and the humanisation of culture and reject the sign in favour of the image.

Our differences of opinion, including cultural and social, are nothing compared to this task. I can only hope that you and I will find the strength for it.