Sovietshunoslar

Treatment of Russification and Nationalism by Sovietologists: the Distortion of Uzbek Experience in the Soviet Union
10Another point of conflict between Sovietologists and Foreignologists in the ideological struggle was the depiction of the politics of Russification (ruslashtirish) and Sovietisation (sovietlashtirish) in literary works – the novel, in particular. In 1961, American scholar G. Morris wrote the following in the magazine Survey:

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  3 The American scholars’ quotes that I am using in this article are not their direct words. As it has (...)
  

Soviet literature in Central Asia was created artificially, because they didn’t have a tradition of realistic literature in the past, and that tradition will not even be implanted in Central Asia. The main goal of the Soviet leadership is to establish and publicise modern literary forms such as the novel, story and play; the main aim of this is to spread the Russian language.
(Quoted in Turdiev, 1991, pp. 259-272).3
11According to the Sovietologist G. Morris, literature policy in the region was carried out only to achieve Russification. To a certain extent, he is not completely incorrect; it is no secret that under the ussr a policy of Russification was enacted in the Soviet republics. But G. Morris did not make this statement because of his concern for the fate of non-Russian literatures. Using ideological policy as a weapon, he directs the thrust of his argument at the Soviet leadership and its policy in the sphere of languages. For this reason, while defending an unscholarly idea, and knowing that each nation of the region – Uzbeks, Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, Tajiks, and Turkmens – had its own centuries-old literature with its own distinctive features, he considered regional literature as a single one. In conclusion, the literature of these nations “didn’t have realist traditions in the past and these traditions will not even be implanted in Central Asia” (ibid., p. 261). Indeed, in the literature of non-Russian nations one can find many varied features – both traditional and European – that predate Soviet literary policy. These include written and oral prosaic traditions, popular books, poems (heroic, lyrical) and memoirs. Besides, the Uzbek novel was improved by the experiments of M. Shermuhamedov, Khamza, and A. Qodiriy – obviously not Russians. Morris did not take these facts into consideration in analysing the Central Asian literature. In his contribution «Roman va burjua ‘sovetshunoslari’» [The Novel and the Bourgeois ‘Sovietologists’] (1991), the Uzbek scholar Sherali Turdiev gave his opinion on Morris’s article. While defending national literatures, Turdiev did not dare writing about the presence of chauvinistic goals within Soviet literary policy, but he correctly understood the essence of the problem and wrote that “he [Morris], without any foundation, presented nations which have different historical, literary, cultural and traditional, and language distinctiveness under the single name of Central Asian literature” (ibid., p. 260).
12Yet another example, Edward Allworth, researcher on the Far and Middle East at Colombia University, wrote in his book Uzbek Literary Politics, published in 1964: “Farsi, Turkish, French and English novels exerted far more influence on the new-founded Uzbek genres than Russian realistic prose and dramatic art ever did” (quoted in Turdiev, 1991). Even though this statement was not supported by sufficient historical facts and scientific sources but rather relied on commonplaces, it does have some bases in truth. Firstly, a new Uzbek realistic prose and dramatic art in European form was an actual outcome of the early twentieth century. Secondly, Tatar, Azerbaijani, Turkish, Arabic and Farsi literatures definitely played a role in the initial development of the abovementioned genres. These aspects of the issue were acknowledged several times in the observations of literary critics S. Husayn and S. Mirzaliev. But none of these Uzbek scholars denied the possibility of a Russian influence, which no doubt occurred, on the development of Uzbek literature. Affirming his own opinion with quotations from Ronald Kiffer, Werner Baum, Agnessa Uneman, Shamshiyabanu Satbaeva, Oybek and Marat Nurmuhammedov, the scholar Sherali Turdiev criticised Edward Allworth because of his overstatement of the influence of Farsi, Turkish, French and English literatures on the development of Uzbek literature while trying to underestimate the influence of progressive Russian literature. Attempts to determine not only the development of Uzbek realistic prose and dramatic art but also the essence of the works of M. Auezov, G. Musratov, and Ch. Aitmatov without pointing to the vital influence of the heritage of Pushkin, Chekhov, Tolstoy, and other Russian poets, writers and playwrights is scientifically ungrounded. Edward Allworth undoubtedly had his own political axe to grind, and he made his point clear that, though Russians pushed their literature on Central Asians, their efforts were ineffective and meaningless.
13In the article “The Uzbek writer Asqad Muhtor and his works” published in 1971 in the Central Asian Journal, the American scholar Harold R. Bettersby wrote that “even though Muhtor knew Russian very well, he did not try to fill his works with words which were borrowed from Russian” (quoted in Qayumov, 1981, p. 62). Bettersby tried to prove the Uzbek writer’s opposition to Russian influence. But his argument was denied by the contribution of academician C. Mamajonov «O‘zbek sovet adabiyoti tarixi burjua sovetshunoslari ko‘zgusida» [History of Soviet Uzbek Literature in the Mirror of Bourgeois Sovietologists] in which the author relied on resolutions of the Central Committee of the cpsu and the research of D. Likhačev, E. Yusupov, M. Nurmuhammedov, L. Qayumov, H. Inoyatov and M. Qoshjanov as a theoretical and methodological base. Mamajonov wrote that “their [Sovietologists] every single publication – whether it be a small article or a large book – contained deliberate distortion concerning the development of Uzbek Soviet literature, its content, ideas and achievements” (Mamajonov, 1985, pp. 45-66). He was even able to insult them as “wolves in sheep’s clothing” (ibid., p. 51).
14Another American Sovietologist, Daniel Matushevskiy, made a similarly dismissive statement on the issue of the historical past in the literatures of Central Asia (Matushevskiy, 1983). This researcher, who focused on historical novels, wrote:
The Turkic people have begun to discover that their past was not in darkness and without cultural perspective. They are very busy with the re-comprehending of their ancient past. Contemporary Central Asian novels also confirm that each of the four above-mentioned literary works presents a deep analysis of the vital roots of the Turkic-Farsi past of ancient Asia.
(Quoted in Turdiev, 1991, pp. 259-272)
15Considering that the novels discussed by Matushevskiy are Muhtor’s Chinor [Maple] (1969), Mirmuhsin’s Me’mor [Architect] (1974), Sulejmenov’s Az i  [Asia or ‘Az and Me’] (1975), and Aitmatov’s first novel I dol’še veka dlitsâ den’ [The Day Lasts More Than a Hundred Years] (1980), it becomes clear that his focus is on Uzbek, Kazakh and Kyrgyz historical literature. It is well know that these nations historically have lived close to each other. But each of them has its own economic, cultural, literary, linguistic, and ethnic peculiarities. The novels were written in different periods and are the products of writers who are representatives of three nations, each one performing his own individual method. As each writer has his own aesthetic ideal, thought, and explanatory method, each nation has its own novel-writing experience. Therefore, their assessment as a whole serves only to further the wider political goal of dismissing the national experiences which Kyrgyz, Uzbeks, and Kazakhs had undergone in the Soviet Union. Western political goals required that Central Asia be envisioned as a place that had neither been convinced by, nor enamoured with any of the ideas that the Soviet Union offered, including republican statuses. One needs only to look at the fact that these novels do not even depict the periods of history which are connected with a Turkic-Farsi past. Besides, many Uzbek, Kazakh and Kyrgyz writers did not ever look to their past as “a darkness” and “without cultural perspective” (ibid., p. 270). The fact that such novels as Zagrebel’nyj’s Âroslav Mudryj [Yaroslav the Wide], Ivan Le’s Bogdan Khmel’nickij, and Kalašnikov’s Žestokij vek [The Cruel Century] were written in the period studied by Matushevskiy, shows that the subject of the past was not only addressed by Turkic writers. In addition, Matushevskiy remained absolutely silent about historical features presented in novels such as Qodiriy’s O‘tkan kunlar [Bygone Days] and Mehrobdan chayon [Scorpion From the Altar], Ayni’s Qullar [Slaves], Auezov’s Abaj žoly [Abai’s Path], Oybek’s Qutlug‘ qon [Sacred Blood] and Navoiy, and many others.
16The American scholar was right in saying that under Soviet literary policy, the writers of colonised nations were permitted to address their past only within certain parameters. He argued that these nations were severed from their past by the October Revolution. But Daniel Matushevskiy did not consider the fact that each nation from which the four authors hail has an old history that continued to develop under the Soviet Union; he only examined them with an eye to a common Central Asian history, one which had long since exited the minds of Central Asia’s inhabitants. For this reason, Mirmuhsin, the author of Me’mor, making light of Matushevskiy’s “darkness and without cultural perspective” comment, wrote that the American looked at the novel “through dark glasses” (Mirmuhsin, 1984). Sherali Turdiev seconded the novelist’s suggestions based on historical facts as well as the work of German researcher Herbert Krempien. But he again did not openly oppose some aspects of the Soviet literary policy for fear of the political censorship of the time.