Religion
The exile
Martin Sullivan
Alexander Isayenvich SolzhenitsYn has been thrown out of his native land. Born in Rostov-onbon in 1918, he was a mathematician first rather than a man of letters. All his inspiration was drawn from his native soil, and to be torn from it must be a bitter blow to him. In the last war he served his country faithfully and loyally, commanding an artillery battery. He won promotion and decoration. In 1945 he was arrested for certain derogatory remarks Which he made against Stalin and spent the next eight years in Prison camps. He was released in the year of Stalin's death and went back to teaching physics and mathematics at a local secondary school. He then began to write. His books, especially his latest, contain frank and searching criticism of the Soviet system, and despite the appearance ot greater freedom in post-Stalin days, the state was unable to accept his challenge.
It is as simple as that and so, once again, it is expedient that one man should suffer for the people. But this time, there was no trial. no imprisonment, no execution. The state, likewise, was unable to stand by its obvious wishes. It just swept this man out of sight. We cannot tell how many Russians secretly applaud him, but we know that their rulers are afraid of him. And here is a fine thing. One man, with a pen as his solitary weapon, has proved too much for one of the mightiest powers of modern times. I write in this religious column appreciatively of Solzhenitsyn, a practising Christian, because those of us who share his faith, and those who do not, gladly and proudly walk with him. He has borne unfailing witness to a cardinal element in Christ's teaching, namely the incalculable value of the individual. It is important in his case to call to mind that the Greek word for witness is our English word 'martyr'.
When the Roman authorities finally put paid to the life of a provincial agitator and insurrectionist on Calvary's hill 2,000 years ago, they believed that was the end of all Christ stood for, and of everything He had proclaimed. Christianity was dead. The last Christian had been executed. All the rest had forsaken Him and fled. What would Tacitus or Trajan or Marcus Aurelius have said, if they had been told that the Man on the Cross had that day launched a movement which would sweep the world and that His name would be revered, and His person worshipped, centuries after they had been dead and gone? If they could see the Vatican and St Peter's today they would not believe their eyes. The Eternal City, the mistress of the World is not dominated by Nero's golden house or any other imperial palace, but by a Cathedral, dedicated to the glory of a man who was executed for treason, in an insignificant corner of an occupied country. Modern rulers need to remember that no one can sit on a throne of bayonets, or rule from it.
There is another aspect of Solzhenitsyn's Christian outlook and faith which I would mention. In his first novel , One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch, he describes Z-iis life in one of Beria' s special camps for long-term prisoners. It was an utterly souldestroying existence, with not even the faintest ray of hope. And yet he refuses to give way to defeat and despair. He ends his account with these deeply moving words, "Shukhov went to sleep fully content. He'd had many strokes of luck that day; they hadn't put him in the cells; they hadn't sent the team to the settlement; he'd pinched a bowl of Kasha at dinner; the team leader had fixed the rates well; .he'd built a wall and enjoyed doing it; he
smuggled that bit of hack-saw blade through; he'd bought that tobacco; and he hadn't fallen ill. He'd got over it. A day without a dark cloud. Almost a happy day."
As I read that passage I hear echoes of other words, "Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Each day has troubles enough of its own." I accept this teaching from Christ's Sermon on the Mount. Could I spell it out as valiantly as Shukhov did?
Martin Sullivan is the Dean of St Paul's.
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