The critical question became not whether, but how the serfs were to be emancipated. In part that ‘how’ concerned the terms of emancipation—whether they would receive land (in what quantities and at what price) and whether they would become full-fledged citizens. These two issues became the central focus of the reform debates inside and outside the government. But emancipation also raised a further question: how was reform to be designed and implemented, what indeed were to be the politics of reform? Was the state simply to promulgate emancipation (perhaps with the assistance of secret committees, to use the previous tsar’s methods) or was society itself somehow to be involved in this process? The politics of reform were as important as the terms of emancipation, for they were fraught with long-term implications about the relationship between state and society and, especially the status and role of old élites.
The ‘reform party’ was a coalition of different interests with a common objective. It was, in any event, not the mere handiwork of a reformist monarch. Although the traditional historiography inclined to personalize politics and ascribe much to the emperor himself, and although Alexander II (1855–81) acquired an official accolade as ‘Tsar-Liberator’, he was in fact highly conservative and a deeply ambivalent reformer. Far more important was the constellation of what W. Bruce Lincoln has called the ‘enlightened bureaucrats’, the
The process of emancipation, however, was by no means unilinear: it was only gradually, through trial and error, that the regime finally formulated the specific terms of the Emancipation Statutes in 1861. In his first year, in fact, Alexander deliberately tried to discourage the wild expectations that traditionally accompanied each new accession to the throne and often ignited a wave of rumours and peasant disorders: he replaced reputed reformers (such as the Minister of Interior, D. G. Bibikov, and the Minister of State Domains, P. D Kiselev) with men known for their arch-conservative opinions.
By 1856, however, the defeat in the Crimea was not to be denied and neither could the exigency of fundamental reform. In a famous speech to the nobility of Moscow on 30 March 1856, Alexander ostensibly endeavoured to reassure the serf-owners, but ended his comments with a clear intimation of the imperative need for reform ‘from above’:
Rumours have spread among you of my intention to abolish serfdom. To refute any groundless gossip on so important a subject, I consider it necessary to inform you that I have no intention of doing so immediately. But, of course, you yourselves realize that the existing system of serf-owning cannot remain unchanged. It is better to begin abolishing serfdom from above than to wait for it to begin to abolish itself from below.
Although Alexander may have hoped that the nobility, mindful of its traditional ‘service ethos’ would take its own initiative, nothing of the sort transpired. As the Third Section (secret police) was well aware, ‘the majority of the nobility believe that our peasant is too uncultured to comprehend civil law; that, in a state of freedom, he would be more vicious than any wild beast; that disorders, plundering, and murder are almost inevitable’.
