XI. Chapter 4. On the Metahistory of Our Days

For the third time, the history of Russia saw one and the same phenomenon. Yet, this time its recurrence assumed a much larger scale. Just like Ivan IV and Nikolai I, Stalin embodied the zenith of might of yet another demon of “greatpowerness”, his open confrontation with the demiurge and the Synclite, the maximizing of the tyrannical tendency, and the beginning of the state’s end.

Those who were to take the reins of power at the time when Stalin’s coffin was still being on display in the House of Union and endless lines of dumbfounded and affected Muscovites were being drawn to it, for the first time they were able to realize all the horrors behind the pompous façade of the dictatorship. Before, each of them had a strictly delineated sphere: “From here – to there!”. When Stalin was alive, only the head of the security service knew a bit more than others of his colleagues. It is true that Stalin tabled many questions for discussion in the Politburo, later the Presidium of the Central Committee (the principal policymaking committee of the communist party, t/n) and the Council of Ministers. Yet, these discussions were too formal to begin with, Stalin’s decisions being undisputable at that. Second, the majority of questions had never been raised. All sensed, of course, that far from everything ran smoothly in the country, but no one could see the whole panorama. Now the veil of mystery was being lifted, and those who were first exposed to the bare truth were the members of the Presidium of the Central Committee.

The “conclave” found out that either one eighth or one fifth of the country’s populace were interned in prisons and labor camps, and the memory of those innocently killed or convicted for many years of suffering must have lived in nearly every family. Something else opened wide before the conclave: the terrible fall in agricultural production; depopulation of villages; permanently undernourished towns; the lack of commodities; a staggering rise in crimes and, in particular, those committed by minors; cronyism throughout the system and in the people’s daily rounds of life; and, except a thin privileged layer, discontentment swept across all social strata.

“Emaciated, humiliated, and ruined members of the conclave breathed freely again after a long break. They looked at each other and, all of a sudden, felt ashamed. They did not understand what exactly had happened around them, but they felt that the air was filled with obscenities, and it was impossible to breathe it any longer.” (from Saltykov-Shchedrin’s “The History of a Town”, t/n).

Speaking of obscenities, even the halls for international gatherings were filled with them. The deceased had not particularly minced words while at home; his diplomats abroad also had adopted this style. There remained little of the traditional diplomatic courteousness, as brazen demands, clothed into a boorish tone, took its place. Most importantly, the international atmosphere was so much electrified that the third world war could have started any minute. The Western bloc of states, which lagged behind the Soviet army in terms of numbers, was still ahead in the thermonuclear race. Communist China – the late feat of the deceased – was not going to be accounted for as a great military power any time soon. Besides, were its leaders trustworthy enough to totally and unequivocally rely on them?

There were such tightly tied knots in the international politics all around that it seemed impossible to unravel them, unless with a sword. There existed two antagonistic Germanys, two antagonistic Vietnams, and even two Chinas. Poland lost its eastern lands to the Soviet Union and was compensated with German territories, which the majority of Germans was unwilling to disown. After a three-year fratricidal war, Korea was back to square one of being split into two irreconcilably antagonistic parts. A host of Arabic countries, as ready to erupt as a volcano, were being revolutionized; Western countries could not leave them other than in the wake of a global conflagration… To add insult to injury, the military machine used by the deceased leader in his reckless enterprises was going to be thrown into the quagmire of the third world war. Yet, at the time this machine was not on the level to ensure the success of the Red Army in such a grandiose undertaking. Besides, both coalitions saw to the rise of new kinds of thermonuclear weapons at an astonishing pace. It was becoming quite clear: even if the Soviet side triumphed in the imminent standoff, the defeated countries would have been turned into a radioactive desert to rule over.

Stalin left a terrible legacy behind him.

Yet, unfortunately, “they did not understand what exactly had happened around them”. They reduced the source of mistakes and vicissitudes to the “personality cult”. Yet, they were unable to grasp that, unlike a mere contingency, it was a reiteration of something that had already happened twice in Russia, according to its historical, as well as metahistorical logic: they played the selfsame roles, which Fyodor Ioannovich, Boris Godunov, and Shuisky had enacted three and a half centuries ago, or Alexander II, Alexander III, and Nikolai II – some hundred and fifty years or half a century back. Again, it was like sitting on two chairs: now admitting mistakes or even crimes of the deceased tyrant and distancing from them; then tracing back one’s political succession to him; now throwing small bones to the murmuring people; then, in two or three years, back-pedaling in fear that the fumes of indignation, rage, and hatred would burst through the half-open valve and turn into a real commotion, even revolt, and further dismantling of the whole system. The distraught peasantry was to be cajoled in some way while keeping intact the root of the evil, that is, the collective farm system – shutting it down would cause unimaginable economical and ideological upheavals. Insufficient funding of the light industry and the lack of commodities under Stalin was to be admitted a mistake – this would be met with a generous public response – only to return to the same old thesis in just one or two years, all to meet the needs of the arms race. They had to see to taking the heat off the international atmosphere and postponing the third world war. For this end, some little but effective concessions had to be made without compromising the general course – otherwise, America would be quick to take advantage of this. In sum, they had to squirm on a frying pan, as it were, now burning one side with the threat of the world war, then roasting another side with the risk of domestic upheavals.

We have reached the metahistory of modernity. Yet, modernity differs from the past in that we never possess the sum of all the facts describing it, even compared to the most distant and murky eras. All the more so, this concerns countries with such a regime, which shuns publicity and does not divulgate any statistical data (nearly everything goes as “classified”, from armament expenses to the number of crimes, suicides, and car accidents). No less mysterious are the strings which, when pulled, propel some into leading positions while demoting others. The public comes to witness a strange pantomime: some enigmatic figures, which are celebrated through all the means of agitprop and propaganda while remaining totally unbeknownst in terms of their family situation, habits, tastes, and characters – these figures, elevated to the stratosphere of society, as it were, and staying in full view of the entire planet, make some movements with their arms, heads, and torsos, only to vanish into thin air for some reason and be replaced with someone else. And this “someone else”, in turn, would keep adding to humanity’s puzzlement toward the meaning and purpose of all this unfathomable ballet.

Metahistorical knowledge of modernity cannot rely on a sufficient number of historical facts. Even though it happens, at times, to fill up the blanks through one or another method and to understand the forces behind the human instruments of today, the majority of the blanks remain unfilled. Therefore, the general metahistorical picture of modernity cannot be as complete as those of past epochs.

Those that found themselves at the helm of the country after Stalin’s death were statesmen of a dual or, rather, triple cast. Thus or otherwise, they were the stars of his constellation. All of them were promoted under and thanks to him; all of them were brought up in his political school. It is true that, under him, they trembled for their dear life while being disturbed deep inside with many of his deeds. Yet, the Doctrine, which was but a mere disguise for him and, partially, a guide for his practical activities, was their ultimate truth, sincere conviction, and innermost credo. One cannot expect an ordinary person, whose daily routine had been deeply embedded, for example, in the folds of the Orthodox Church, to exhibit freshness, flexibility, and broadness of mind at the ebb of his or her life, so as to rethink his or her activities and entire worldview. For him or her, such a re-evaluation would be akin to a catastrophe, the bankruptcy of creativity and life, which would make it impossible to engage into any meaningful social activities. In the same way, these people were unable to fundamentally revise the Doctrine, which they had been guided with in all their thoughts, feelings, and actions, without extracting a heavy mental toll.

Another side of this group of people as statesmen was being severely traumatized with the arbitrariness of the deceased despot. When contemplating the inner decay of society – the outcome of the tyranny – and reminiscing the milieu of unflagging insecurity and life terror, which they had lived and worked in for so many years, these people started dreading a recurrence of the past, that is, the emergence of another Stalin amid them who would twist all into a pretzel and plunge the country into the ultimate abyss. For this reason, they strived to take every measure to prevent the dire past from ever coming back. In place of the idea of the totality of the collective mind embodied in the mind of a concrete genius leader, they resurrected and enunciated the idea of collegiality – the idea of the all-people mind embodied in the collectivity of the Central Committee and its Presidium.

Yet, there was another side to some of the people from this group, which was closely guarded from the others. Namely, it was a secret hope that, over time, one of the group members, and only him, would come forth and become again a single autocratic leader. It is hard to say how many people in the conclave cherished this hope, but there were three such individuals at the least.

There is no call, however, to suspect all three members of the first triumvirate to have had such pretensions – the group that emerged right after the death of the despot, being a graphic demonstration of the idea of collegiality. It is quite certain that only one of them – he had been the head of the state security for some fifteen years – cherished such dreams (Lavrentiy Beria, t/n). Only Stalin’s death spared him of a terrible retribution. Yet, in the eyes of the people, he had been already exposed as a mass butcher complicit in millions of innocent deaths. Hence, he could not set sights on being a member of the triumvirate for too long, and the only way left to him was a desperate attempt at a coup and usurpation of the supreme power. Had this plan been realized, this would have ensured the return of Stalin’s regime and heading for world war. Fortunately, this attempt was timely curbed, the criminal was executed and, for the time being, was held accountable for all the numerous breaches of the socialist legitimacy. He was proclaimed an imposter of sorts that had no right to the throne and that had nearly worked his way into this position through nefarious schemes. Had this happened, he would have developed the worst tendencies of his predecessor – not of his biological father, of course, as the False Dmitriy had thought back in his day, but of his spiritual father, teacher, and nurturer. It was not without exposures, whether real or fictional, to the effect that the criminal was as though connected with a foreign enemy which had belligerent designs against the Moscow kingdom: this time, it was not Poland, of course, which “greatpowerness” waned long ago, but England.

The fall of this imposter was seen in labor camps as a sign that Stalin’s regime was bound to radically change. Indeed, the regime in penal institutions was relaxed. Yet, this was not sufficient: they expected their criminal cases to be reviewed and demanded to be released. Patience was running thin, and the most reckless or, perhaps, desperate ones were raising their voices in the camps. These voices merged together, and such impregnable citadels as the infamous Vorkuta, the penal labor camps of Norilsk, Karaganda, and Kolyma, were shaken with strikes and riots. The disorders were suppressed in one or another way. At the same time, the lawful methods of the judicial proceedings were being restored. Yet, it was impossible to release such a vast number of people, return them home, and help them with employment. For this reason, nobody could understand what was awaiting them, and the overall tenseness did not abate.

In the meantime, the breach in the triumvirate was filled in with a new figure that had earlier taken over the whole ruling party’s apparatus. A year and a half passed, and another member left the ranks of the triumvirate under mysterious circumstances, with the last member taking his leave in 1957. In place of the triumvirate, a deft, crafty, buoyant, and spry sanguine man – he was not without some kindness, too – towered at the head of the state and party. He was set to undo the wrongs of the despot and was capable of making bold changes in the course. Yet, he did not feature the independence and freshness of mind, which would enable him to revise the fundamental fallacies of the Doctrine and the old program of its actual implementation.

He was far even from having the slightest inkling of the metahistorical underfooting of all the matters, just as all others. Indeed, what and whence could this man know about the confusion reigning in Drukkarg, about the strife between igvas and raruggs that was outgrowing into an open confrontation, about the potential withdrawal of Gagtungr’s longstanding sanction over the Russian witzraor in favor of his deadly enemy?

Most importantly, 1957 in many respects belonged to another epoch, unlike, for example, 1952 or the rule of Stalin overall. In his epoch, the great demonic mind could still view the potential third world war as an unparalleled source of gavvakh. The victory of Zhrugr was more desirable at that – this is why Zhrugr remained sanctioned. Yet, even if the American witzraor won, this victory could be used for the future unification of the world based on a new materialistic teaching, which was emerging from the concept of cosmopolitism. However, the situation was changing, and in a rather strange direction at that. Fabulous amassing of thermonuclear weapons by both coalitions forced them to reconsider the question under a new angle. True, such a war promised the Himalayas of gavvakh. Yet, it was also fraught with something else: it put the physical existence of humanity itself to question. In any event, it would slash the world population by a fourth or so, wipe out entire countries from the face of the earth, and destroy civilizations, perhaps, on entire continents. Consequently, this would throw humanity centuries and centuries back in intellectual, technical, and economical terms. Any talks on whatsoever unification of humanity would hardly seem feasible with intact territories separated from each other with radioactive wastelands; with their populace smitten with unknown diseases for generations ahead; with the all-out economic collapse forcing the survivors into the most primitive modes of existence. Therefore, the craved-for absolute global tyranny was to be pushed into the indiscernible depths of future centuries. For this reason, the great demonic mind abandoned the idea of the third world war and attempted to influence as with Zhrugr, so Stebing, and the great igvas of Drukkarg and Mudgabr alike, so as to paralyze their belligerent spirit which had been fueled by it for so many years.

Metahistory had never seen such an unprecedented and paradoxical situation: all hierarchies of Light, as well as the highest of the hierarchies of darkness strived to prevent the planetwide military catastrophe. While some of the lowest hierarchies of darkness were still adamant to achieve it in a glowing frenzy, the highly intellectual and less bloodthirsty igvas had already begun to realize the fatality of this drive for war by all means. Yet, the tremendously swollen Zhrugr with its limited mind and phenomenal temper was all out for the deadly battle. The more he swelled, the more he suffered from hunger, and emanations from the peoples of the Soviet state could no longer still it: more and more peoples were to be forced into emanating for him. Raruggs did not want to stay out of the confrontation either. These madly ferocious and rapacious beings – this is what allosaurus could become only after millions of years of incarnations in the demonic layers, and being long clothed into karrokh – were ready, rather, to do a revolution in Drukkarg, to topple the great igvas, and go on for an all-or-nothing expansion to other shrastrs instead of merely vegetating under the old conditions. Their intellect was too feeble to take these warlike instincts under control.

The situation was aggravated by the fact that the man who established himself at the helm of the state was neither bloodthirsty, nor belligerent (Nikita Khrushchev, t/n). According to the logic of power, he unconsciously followed the will of Zhrugr, for this will was aimed at consolidating the state and increasing the emanations of the state complex of human feelings. Yet, he was not cruel by nature, which as though left a host of “crevices” in his being for the principle of Light to unconsciously inspire him. If it was not for this inspiration, no amount of sensible arguments would have reasoned this man into a breathtaking turnaround of the domestic policy, a mere thought of which had terrified his colleagues – this turnaround manifested in exposing a number of Stalin’s crimes and a massive release of convicts.

It is hard to encompass and appreciate the bewilderment caused by his speech at the twentieth congress of the party. The divulgation, albeit partial, belated, and having certain reservations, of a long string of unbelievably hideous facts about the one that had been considered as the greatest humanist by entire generations was like a psycho-nuclear explosion of sorts, its wave sweeping to the farthest corners of the planet. What about Russia? “They did not understand what exactly had happened around them, but they felt that the air was filled with obscenities, and it was impossible to breathe it any longer. Did they have a history? Were there any moments in this history when they could express their independence? They remembered nothing. They could only recall to have had Urus-Kugush-Kil’dibaevy, Negodyaevy (a derivative of “negodyai” or villain, t/n), Borodavkiny (can be translated as “the warty ones”, t/n), and, to add insult to injury, this awful, graceless scoundrel! And all these smothered, gnawed, and ripped them with teeth – for the sake of what?” (from Saltykov-Shchedrin’s “The History of a Town”, t/n)

Whether the one that played the ungrateful role of the chief exposer had or had not foreseen the scale of the subsequent reverberation throughout the world, apparently he expected to save the prestige of the Doctrine from a devastating blow, at least, in part. His main argument was to the effect that the personality cult of Stalin was at odds with the Doctrine rather than stemming from it, that it had been a malignant tumor of sorts to be removed.

Myriads of convicts that had lost all hope of salvation rushed home from labor camps [and prisons] spreading around the stories of what was happening in those tormentories under the tyrant. In many institutions, they hastily cleared the walls of hateful portraits of the second leader. In a number of cities, people took down his statues from pedestals. There reigned bewilderment in foreign communistic parties outgrowing, at times, into rifts. Mental ferment in higher education institutions of the Soviet Union crystallized into the organization of student discussion clubs; into collective protests against instructors and programs of study; into publication of half-legal or illegal magazines; even into real student strikes. In literary and artistic circles, they talked about relaxing the mandatory ideological guideposts. All this showed that the country’s leader may have been playing with fire. It was more preferable to back-pedal and try to clumsily explain that the deceased despot, despite being the despot that he was, oddly enough, had been an exemplary communist, and there was no call to smear everything done by him. Literature, art, and human thought had barely ventured out and right then had been heedfully put back in place. Looking around in bewilderment, some people started making parallels between the course of the third leader (Nikita Khrushchev, t/n) and the epochs of Boris Godunov and Alexander II: two steps forward, then one and a half steps back. According to the tragic law of the Russian history, there loomed ahead the ghost of reaction, that is, a major turn backwards, something that had already happened at the end of Boris Godunov’s reign, under Shuisky, and later – under Alexander III and Nikolai II.

Still, the new regime, as compared with that of Stalin, was more a heart-warming one. The third leader was a simple and life-loving man that wished for other people, not just for himself, to have a good life. Unfortunately, it takes more than wishful thinking to establish peace on the earth and instill goodwill in humans. If socialist states alone existed on our planet, it would be possible to rid the military machine and use the freed-up resources to better the life of the masses. Yet, as even Stalin had failed to shut down America, one hand was to expedite testing of newer upon newer means of mass destruction while stirring up freedom movements in capitalistic states, then with the other hand releasing white doves of peace, so as to feast the eyes on their curvets against the background of storm clouds. He even wanted to turn into such a dove himself and, carrying an olive branch, flutter about from one country to another – to Yugoslavia, India, Burma, states of the Muslim East, even to the obstinate and distrustful England. Yet, as the dove hovered over at the time when explosions of newer and newer experimental bombs sent shock waves down to the deep layers of the earth, the universal paradise remained just a dream having no bearing upon the tragic reality.

Unfortunately, the government was double-minded about making serious concessions: after all, the only way to persuade the enemy of the earnestness of Russia’s peaceful intentions was to stop revolutionizing all countries, that is, to withdraw support for the corresponding movements in Europe, in the Middle East, in Africa, and in Latin America. However stealthy this support was, incriminating evidence popped up here and there, thus bringing to naught all the harangue about peaceful coexistence and causing outbursts of anger and malice in great capitalist countries. Particularly outraged was Stebing that enmeshed nearly half of Enrof with the tentacles of his monopolies and trading companies. He was not content with this economical enslavement and sucking-out, it was just the first step. For as long as these countries remained independent politically, they could not direct sizeable emanations off the state complex of feelings toward the United States so as to nourish Stebing and the entire populace of the American shrastr. Therefore, Stebing could not be satisfied only with economic penetration into those lands – he craved for their political subjugation and further incorporation into the state system of the United States, that is, into their administrative, law-enforcing, ideological, and educational system which generate a vigorous emanation of state feelings. Instead, Stebing would get one kick after another. After the mutual pummeling and biting in Korea and Vietnam, they were quits. Yet, in China his tentacles were chopped off in the most indelicate manner, and there loomed large a prospect that something like this would be repeated in all the Arabic countries. For this reason, whenever the Doctrine discredited itself, this was taken up and blown out so as to fuel an all-out indignation with the hypocrisy and insincerity of all its leaders, whether it be the first, second, or third one.

The first serious blow, which the third leader dealt at the international prestige of the Doctrine, was in exposing his predecessor’s crimes. The second blow at this prestige was the Soviet involvement with Hungary embroiled in an anti-Soviet revolt. Yet, could it be handled in some other way? Where and when did Zhrugr allow a tasty morsel to be snatched away from his tentacles? What witzraor could ever detachedly witness his faithful and close satellite turn into an armed-to-the-teeth enemy? No matter the personal qualities of the third leader and his anti-war sentiments, the logic of “greatpowerness” many a time prevailed over his natural qualities.

Yet, precisely the third leader’s personal qualities stayed in the way of Zhrugr. They did not allow this man to be turned into Zhrugr’s obedient instrument. They caused the political course to be shaky, dual, and unreliable. There was no way to predict that the third leader’s actions would be aligned with the witzraor’s will. Hence the gaze of the demon of “greatpowerness” riveted itself on another, more suitable being (most likely, Daniil Andreev refers to Marshal Zhukov, t/n). It was also a part of the Soviet top tier. Yet, unlike a civilian “wimp”, it was a prominent military commander of the Patriotic War having great military merits and enjoying prestige with the people, especially, with the army. It was a man of a blazing ambition, whose pride had been wounded and whose bonapartic temper had been painfully suppressed for too long. In case of the third world war, he was the best fit for the role of the leader and agent in Zhrugr’s eyes. This man would not hesitate pelting the unwitting potential enemy with a good helping of hydrogen bombs; he would not lose heart if the Russian cities received a similar helping; he would not feel shy implanting the Doctrine on a global scale when the third of the planet’s surface would have been tuned into ashes!

And so, the marshal was chosen as the third witzraor’s instrument.

However, this seemed to have happened too late. Drukkarg had long lost its erstwhile unity, and the shrastr was seething like a caldron. Raruggs were spoiling for the fight, so Zhrugr could well rely upon them. As for igvas, from year to year, from month to month they grew increasingly resistant to the possibilities of a great war. To top it off, as early as in the beginning of October 1957 Drukkarg had been shattered with an unheard-of event: the Great Igva had broken away from the demonic camp. This had a somewhat gradual development, yet the populace of Drukkarg had been caught off guard. There were several such cases in the past when some of the great igvas had managed to peer into rather high worlds of Light, yet had stood by their “guns”. Now, everything was different. The Great Igva had reigned in Drukkarg for some forty years and been its real pillar and support. Now, he had switched from the states not unlike khokhha into such an exaltation that he could behold Christ. This happened not in the Russian zatomis but in a much higher world, where the Savior had not even assumed an anthropomorphic image. At the time, the Great Igva was at the main temple amid the throng of igvas and raruggs. The heavenly encounter with the Planetary Logos had such an impact upon the visionary that his karrokh came to be rapidly replaced with a body from siaira. This transformation happened in front of everyone. Many were stunned and became believers. Others were extremely confused. As for raruggs, these were outraged. In a few days, the apostate had been mauled by them. His remains were collected by raruggs and “orthodox” igvas, as it were, and dematerialized: human science has yet to reach this point of technological advancement.

Then there burst forth a great mutiny amid Drukkarg’s captives. I am not going to list the names of those that dared to join it. In any event, the Russian shrastr had never seen anything like this before. The giants that broke loose were lifting chunks the size of a skyscraper and sent them hurtling to the much-hated citadel. The citadel came to be severely damaged. This mutiny turned igvas and raruggs into allies again. Zhrugr raced to their rescue, sucked in the rioters and, as usual, disgorged them into the Pit of Shadanakar. However, the interference of the Synclite of the World had cut short the heroes’ stay there, and, finally, they were lifted to Olirna. Only those that had not taken part in the revolt remained as Drukkarg’s captives.

Events in Drukkarg reeled with a cinematographic speed, as it were. The third witzraor suddenly felt that Gagtungr had taken his sanction off him. It had been removed as Zhrugr, in his striving for a world war both in shrastrs and Enrof, had been ignoring the prohibition of the supreme demonic mind. With a roar of rage, he went scampering about Drukkarg, summoning raruggs, and demanding to topple the rule of the igvas that refused to provision him with the red nourishing dew. The rage of raruggs equaled their master’s. Placed on both sides of their heads the size of a small human house, which resembled either overmuch disfigured heads of horses, or those of Mesozoic raptors, their eyes were filled with dark-purple karrokh blood. Straight and solid wings, not unlike those of a plane, pelted the walls and rooftops of the igvas. Amid all this mayhem, the main temple was closed off so that igvas could not get in there and connect with Gagtungr through their theurgic satanic worship. The famous statue of Drukkarg’s founder – a representation of an igva sitting atop a rarugg – was downed and damaged as a symbol of the much-hated subjugation of former allosauruses to the more supreme intellect of igvas. Raruggs hastily tried to restore at least some kind of discipline amid themselves so as to rush about conquering other shrastrs. It was clear that a war without the help from the igvas of Drukkarg was a recipe for disaster: woeful heads of raruggs were not well adapted for using sophisticated military techniques. There were bright ones among them, as it were, but the raruggs lacked in personnel. Yet, their intellectual deficiency was compensated with such a bodily strength, such an emotional intensity, and such a fury that they believed in their ultimate victory against all odds. Even if they did not win in the global battle, they were capable of committing mass suicide, simply out of an inordinate rage.

A new Great Igva took the place of the slain predecessor. He was not sufficiently prepared, experienced, and authoritative yet. Hadn’t the throne been untimely vacated, he would have undergone a special training of sorts for many years. Yet, he was the only candidate, and the multitude of igvas bowed down to him out of the habit for discipline.

Finally, the demonic hordes came breaking into the embroiled Drukkarg. As per the will of Gagtungr, angels of darkness and ryphras were pushing up to the witzraor from all sides. Zhrugr vehemently resisted; while the raruggs vainly attempted to repel the onslaught of the forces, which were foreign not only to us, but also from Drukkarg’s viewpoint. Thousands of the witzraor’s tentacles were looped around with volitional spirals. Yet, it was impossible to destroy him, that is, to throw him down to Uppam, for he could still come in handy. Besides, the hierarchies of Light would not allow his demise, for the physical livability of the Russian metaculture would otherwise have been brought to naught by the witzraors of the West in a matter of several days. Therefore, he was left lying, huffing and puffing, in one of Drukkarg’s depressions. It was a bizarre sight: angels of darkness with their ruby wings perched like humongous dragonflies on the volitional spirals encircling Zhrugr’s body from all sides. Meanwhile, the human instrument of the witzraor – the marshal – attempted to act in the interests of his inspirer. Eventually, history will tell our children or, perhaps, us, how the third leader managed to neutralize these attempts and remove his opponent. Be that as it may, one could only rejoice at what happened as, essentially, it postponed the global carnage.

Pressurized by the dark hierarchies, raruggs established a new “modus vivendi” of sorts with the igvas. They had the igvas resume supplying the captivated Zhrugr with the red dew; yet, it was coming in much smaller amounts. Also, measures were taken for the most capable raruggs to not form a kind of military command, which, over time, would replace the overmuch peace-loving igvas.

Now, the sanction of Gagtungr was carried over to Mudgabr. Yet, something similar was happening there, too: the frenzy of rioting raruggs that thirsted for a new war was being barely held back by igvas. The Great Igva was being intensely involtated from Digm, but raruggs held him in a half-captivity of sorts. For this reason, the demonic powers he was getting could not be transformed for their use in Enrof, and his influence upon the people that were busy beefing up the military machine of the United States hardly seeped into their consciousness. The outcome of this was America’s lagging behind in the field of armaments, such purely civilian phenomenon as the belated launching of artificial satellites, or the insufficient development of intercontinental missiles. Therefore, certain actions of raruggs dictated by their narrow minds turned against themselves.

Urparp was seeing to such development of events so that, having pushed the might of military coalitions onto the brink of the war, he would force the intimidated nations of the Eastern Bloc, together with the populace of Drukkarg, of course, into making a desperate attempt to cede, retreat, and refuse any hostilities; so that Stebing managed to develop such brawn in his immensely long tentacles which would make it possible for him to smash all entrenchments in Drukkarg without the invasion of Western igvas and raruggs into this shrastr, that is, to crumble the socialist coalition without the third world war in Enrof. In this case, the global domination of the concept of cosmopolitism as well as the long-sought unification of the earth under the auspices of Stebing would loom large.

The only patch of light on the dark horizon of Enrof was the peoples of India and Indo-Malayan cultures. The Indian demiurge, just like all other demiurges, had made the selfsame fateful step of begetting a witzraor. Yet, from the very beginning, this witzraor – his name is Avardal – had been involtated from very high worlds of Light with a tremendous force which offered a hope for an extraordinary act – his future break-away from the demonic camp. Something similar happened to Ukurmia, the youthful witzraor of Western Germany. Yet, the upper light-filled layers of India were more ancient and incomparably stronger. The activities of Avardal were controlled by the demiurge and the Collective Soul of India. This country, while gradually ridding itself of the heavy burden of foreign subjugation and domestic feudalism, exemplified such an extraordinary state, which was raised to its bloom not contrary to the principles of high ethics but in a consistent concordance with them. Other peoples that were unable to follow a similar pathway of development and were heading for the fateful verge of mutual destruction, could not but contemplate this amazing country with a mix of fascination and rueful jealousy.

Meanwhile, the third leader’s situation grew increasingly desperate. Had he been a mere human instrument of infernal forces, he would have been oblivious of the moral tragedy of an individual that shouldered a tremendous responsibility and then realized that no human powers could prevent a war without compromising the authority of his or her party, the Doctrine itself, and everything which is a part and parcel of humanity’s wellbeing. Only an instrument of the witzraor capable of trampling down everything human would barge through a war, through the lunar landscape in the place of Europe, Asia, and America. Having physically survived in some deep hole, it would crawl out to the light of day – all to become the ruler of remaining humanity. At times, he would give in to the inspirations from Zhrugr. Convulsions of this underground carcass attempting to loosen the rings of manacles sent shockwaves across all adjacent layers. He managed to release several tentacles. As the marshal, his human instrument, was no longer on the political stage, Zhrugr now focused all his involtation on the third leader for lack of anyone better. No sooner had the international situation become aggravated, the leader showed such a heightened energy and such belligerence which did not square well either with his age, or his character, or his love for peace. He scampered from country to country with an almost supernatural speed; he sent countless notes to friends and enemies; he conferred with his allies; right then, he devised and carried out new measures to consolidate the country; he raised his voice over the entire planet; he warned, admonished, beseeched, demanded, banged with his fists, and threatened. Yet, he remained a human, and this moral tragedy became impressed even upon his facial features. He should have ruled in another time; he should have managed about in a harmless country in a cozy and peaceful epoch!

I should not have written this book on the brink of a war either, with alarming news bombarding the mind one after another for days on end! It is nice to have confidence that neither the town you live in, nor hundreds of other towns will turn into naught tomorrow! It is lovely to know for a fact that the book you have nurtured for your entire life will be read by someone’s attentive eyes, and that someone’s soul will be enriched with the spiritual experience expounded in it. Finally, it would be a luxury to rest assured that the book would become a block in the foundation of the coming all-human Brotherhood… Yet, such a confidence is impossible. There remains the only unshakeable base for all hopes to rise: if the world happens to avoid the greatest war, the Rose of the World will inevitably appear, first in one democratic country, then in other countries, gradually hallowing all lands of the world. If, contrary to the efforts of the highest hierarchies of Light and darkness alike, the war becomes unleashed with the help of the “rank-and-file” dark forces, the Rose of the World will emerge even atop of smoldering ruins. Perhaps, in this case it will not spread the lace of its blossoming branches over all countries, will not turn the earthly landscape into meadows of the Golden Age. Yet, it will unite thousands of people of generous spirit from all corners of the planet and become yet another obstacle on the way of the one that has been already raised from the Pit and is being nurtured in Gashsharva by the great demon, all to become an executor of the all-out global tyranny, as the prince of this world.

to the next part: 12.1 Formation of the Human Being of the Ennobled Image
to the previous part: 11.3 Dark Shepherd
to the beginning: «The Rose of the World». Table of contents