Last year at university, I did a paper which explored various classic works of literature to see how they could help us answer the question: “Why be Moral?” The following is an essay I wrote about Crime and Punishment and what it says about the “Napoleon Idea.” I had a blast working on the essay, I really like C&P! Particularly Dostoevsky’s portrayal internal feelings of guilt and of a slow (or maybe fast) descent into madness.
Introduction
Napoleon is the archetype of a “great man”, and great men feel free to do as they please so long as their deeds are “great”. Dostoevsky explores and attempts to critique this idea in his novel Crime and Punishment.1 We will analyse three specific critiques from the novel, and show how each of them fails as immanent critiques because they fail to expose an inconsistency in the Napoleon idea itself. But first, we will explore the Napoleon idea in more detail, particularly using the work of Hegel.
The Napoleon Idea
To some, Napoleon embodies the French Revolution. The monarchs of Europe hated him, yes, because he was conquering them, but also because he was sweeping away the old order of things. His commitment to the ideals of liberté, égalité, fraternité may have wavered, but he still left behind the Code Napoléon to replace old feudal laws. On the other hand, he used grave means to satisfy his ego and his desire for greatness. It is nothing to him to fire on civilians with grapeshot, or to carry out a coup against the nascent French democracy, or to abandon an army, or two. The Napoleon idea is that these sorts of great men are not bound by the same moral constraints as lesser men, because they propel humanity forward.
Hegel describes these sorts of people in his Philosophy of History.2 To him, history is the progress of freedom, and sometimes freedom needs a helping hand from a great man. Great men aren’t necessarily conscious of how they are affecting history’s pursuit of freedom. They simply appear when the “time is ripe”, moved by “unconscious impulse”.3 Despite living through the violence and chaos of the Napoleonic wars, Hegel still admired Napoleon, and considered his defeat to the Sixth Coalition an “immense genius destroyed by mediocrity.”4 While the Terror of the revolution brought chaos and was ultimately pointless, the Napoleonic wars brought to Germany: emancipation of the serfs, a code of rights, meritocracy in the civil service, as well as other reforms. Hegel uses the illustration of a house to explain how so much tumult can produce so much stability.5 When building a house, we harness forces of nature, like fire, to forge the nails, and use powerful rivers to saw the boards. But when the house is complete, it protects us from the same fire and flood. The same gravity that wants to crash the house down on us is also holding the beams down in their place, keeping us safe. The forces that would hurt us turn out to be self-defeating, and it’s the same when a World-Historic Individual uses illegal means to bring about legal reforms. It is reminiscent of an idea that populism—which is antithetical to liberal democracy—can be the driving force behind a colour revolution that ushers in liberal democracy which ultimately guards against populism.6 Violence in the hands of a true World-Historical person advances the progress of freedom in history, and in so doing, “violates no law.”
There are many places we could begin to critique this idea, which is starting to look like a “war is peace” slogan. Instead, we will turn to Crime and Punishment and ultimately explore its criticisms of the Napoleon idea.
Raskolnikov’s Napoleon Idea
Dostoevsky’s critique of the Napoleon idea is embodied in the character of Raskolnikov, the anti-hero of Crime and Punishment. He has moved from the country to St Petersburg to attend university, but now finds himself without funds to feed himself or continue his studies. He is forever dodging the landlady. As Raskolnikov sits alone in his room brooding, he begins to consider whether perhaps he is a “great man” and whether he would dare take a life if it meant grasping his destiny. There are parallels between Raskolnikov’s life and Napoleon’s. Both are members of the lower gentry wanting to make a name for themselves. They are both from the periphery of their societies: Napoleon from the recent French possession of Corsica, Raskolnikov from a rural town—neither the political and cultural centres of their respective empires. Both seem to be young men with a chip on their shoulder and something to prove. Raskolnikov ultimately does choose to grasp his destiny and murders the local pawnbroker. In the confusion, he leaves most of the money behind and inadvertently kills the pawnbroker’s sister, but if he is a great man, then he has a right to do it. Raskolnikov clearly believes in the Napoleon idea, but in the book, he gives two slightly different accounts of it.
The first account Raskolnikov gives to Porfiry, who is leading the investigation into the murdered pawnbroker. 7 It comes from an article of Raskolnikov’s, recently published without his knowledge, where he describes how men can be divided into two types: “ordinary” and “extraordinary”. While the ordinary men are of little use other than for reproducing, the extraordinary man has some new idea, a “new word” to offer the world, and they have a right—”not an official right but an inner right”—to commit crimes if need be in service of their new idea. Raskolnikov’s account to Porfiry is explicitly consequentialist. The extraordinary man’s special right does not come into play at all times; he can not “murder people right and left and to steal every day in the market”. It is only permissible to exercise their special right in pursuit of the “new word”. The sacrifice of Napoleon’s army was worth it to topple the monarchies of Europe, but even for Newton’s equations, if it were necessary, it would be permissible “to eliminate the dozen or the hundred men” that stood in his way. The distinguishing characteristic of this account to Porfiry is that the ends justify the means, but Raskolnikov’s other account includes no such limitation.
The second account follows Raskolnikov’s confession to Sonia, the woman with whom he has begun to fall in love.8 At first, he begins to explain the reasons he murdered using the same consequentialist justifications: he was hungry and could not keep himself, he did not wish to trouble his mother, and he even tried the justification that he felt he was extraordinary and the pawnbroker’s money would accelerate his rise in the civil service to a position of more influence. However, he admits this is not it. His enterprising friend Razumihin has a job, and Raskolnikov could have done the same. He could have gotten money if it were all he needed. Instead, he wanted to know if he would dare do it. He wanted to know “for himself” whether he was a great man or a “louse”. Here, he explicitly rejects not only consequentialism but also philosophical reasoning altogether. “I wanted to murder without casuistry, to murder for my own sake, for myself alone!” To Raskolnikov, Napoleon did not even stop to think whether it was permissible for him to abandon his armies in Egypt or Russia; he simply acted. Raskolnikov fought hard to refuse philosophical arguments from even entering his mind—it was probably the source of his mental anguish—because by weighing the cost, he would have to admit he wasn’t a great man.
Of the two accounts, the second to Sonia rings truer. In his conversation with Porfiry, Raskolnikov was under considerable stress, and he likens the interview to verbal sparring. He felt he was already under suspicion, in which case it would be unwise to admit to a police officer his true belief that some men—perhaps himself—could commit crimes at any time regardless of reason. Likewise, Raskolnikov’s feelings for Sonia are why he feels he owes her a candid account of his beliefs. So we see Raskolnikov’s true Napoleon idea is that great men do as they please, without considering the consequences.
Critique: Raskolnikov doesn’t have the guts
Dostoevsky’s clearest critique of the Napoleon idea is that while Raskolnikov believes he has the daring to be great, he clearly does not. A Napoleon needs a will of iron, the ability to commit crimes as if they were nothing. To them, a pawnbroker is a “louse” they would not think twice about. However, in the days following the murder, Raskolnikov falls to pieces. It is hard to imagine someone doing a worse job keeping their cool: loudly joking about being guilty to Zametov, fainting in a police station, and generally acting unhinged. Not only does his behaviour post-murder show he doesn’t have the stomach for it, but what we know of his character pre-murder also does. We learn of a formative incident from his childhood in a nightmare, where he witnesses an old mare being beaten to death by cruel men. He is revolted both out of care for the animal, and also by the gore and violence. Both of which are usual moral sentiments, but would be out of place in a great man, according to him. Also, the way he deals with Polenka—Sonia’s young sister—asking her how she goes with her prayers (despite his own dubious relationship with religion) and generally acting tenderly towards her, in the usual way a kind-hearted person does to a child.9 He is not the aloof and cold-hearted person he believes a ruthless great man needs to be. Dostoevsky hopes to make the reader realise, if they have everyday moral sentiments, that they too are incapable of carrying out the acts needed to be a Napoleon.
Where this critique fails is its attempt to reduce Napoleonic figures to single-dimensional men. Who is to say a World-Historic Individual can not be tender-hearted? Both can be true at the same time. Oppenheimer built a bomb that would change the trajectory of world history, and at the same time, felt the moral weight of the lives that it took. Napoleon was ruthless, but also loved Josephine. Even if his love bordered on obsession, that just adds to the three-dimensionality of his character. Even Hitler was a vegetarian. There is no inconsistency in saying that a great man can’t also have a heart. Considering again Hegel’s theory that history always moves towards freedom, it is even fitting that a great man should be permitted to be motivated by a sense of liberty and fraternity with all mankind. This critique, which attempts to highlight Raskolnikov’s warm-heartedness as an inconsistency, is therefore unsuccessful. But this only deals with Raskolnikov specifically. What about the existence of Napoleons in general?
Critique: Universalisability
The next critique of the Napoleon idea comes at the very end of the novel, and it is a stronger claim: not only is Raskolnikov no Napoleon, no one can be a Napoleon. Raskolnikov again has a dream, and in it, the world is overrun by some “microbe” that is infecting all people.10 The disease causes each person to believe themselves the greatest intellectual alive, but also alters their mood. “Each thought that he alone had the truth” and also became “at once mad and furious”, and this toxic mixture throws the world into chaos. Ordinary economic activity ceases as they cannot coordinate. Instead, they go about killing one another because of their convictions. This dream is a clear vision of what a world filled with “extraordinary” men would be like. There is no way that being a Napoleon is universalisable, because it is inconsistent with a functioning society. This critique goes further than the first. Not only is Raskolnikov—or a person of regular moral sentiments—not a Napoleon, but no one can be one.
This critique also fails. The Napoleon idea is explicitly inegalitarian, so how can it be criticised for not being egalitarian and open to all? Hegel is clear that the World-Historical person is an exceptional individual. When Hegel expressed joy at seeing Napoleon ride into Jena, it was because he was excited to see such a rare occurrence of such world spirit embodied in one individual.11 It is not something he expected to see every day. Likewise, Raskolnikov expected that the truly exceptional men, “the great geniuses, the crown of humanity, appear on earth perhaps one in many thousand millions.”12 A successful immanent critique would need to show an inconsistency arising from the fact that great men are rare. Crime and Punishment reveals no such inconsistency.
Critique: Napoleons are self-serving
Dostoevsky’s final critique is that, despite Raskolnikov thinking he would use his power for good, he would ultimately use his power selfishly. We do not get many explicit hints about what higher purpose Raskolnikov planned to put the pawnbroker’s death to. We know he thinks the extra funds could advance him faster through the ranks of the civil service, but that doesn’t answer what he would do once he were in a place of influence. I do think we get hints. He evidently cares for the plight of the destitute people of St Petersburg; he is generous to a fault with them. Raskolnikov also strikes me as having a feminist ethic—in the nineteenth-century sense. He clearly does not want his sister Dounia to marry and become subject to Luzhin. He is also disgusted by the rich man preying on the vulnerable woman in the street, hanging around so he can bat him away, and trying to enlist the police to get her home safe. If Raskolnikov were in a position of influence, it is reasonable to think he would want to promote reforms like protection for married women and programs to help the poor. Which is what an extraordinary man would do. But after the murder, he is forced to admit that, really, “it was all for myself.” The world can not rely on great men to push history forward, because when it comes to it, they will prioritise their own selfishness and sense of daring rather than their reforms.
Of the critiques we have seen, this is the best and the only one that comes close to succeeding. To illustrate, consider how the contemporary equivalent of the World-Historical Individual would be a Nobel Peace Prize laureate. They have been judged by the community to have done great things to advance the cause of freedom. But amongst their ranks we find people like Abiy Ahmed, the Prime Minister of Ethiopia, who has been accused of war crimes in Tigray;13 and Aung San Suu Kyi, whose government has been accused of genocide and ethnic cleansing of the Rohingya Muslims.14 Just like Raskolnikov, the initial desire to do great things can be overtaken by corruption and self-interest. However, the critique forgets the difference between Raskolnikov’s two different accounts of his theory. The consequentialist description that he gives to Porfiry is successfully critiqued here. If you use violent means to alleviate suffering in the long run, but then fail to alleviate that suffering like Raskolnikov, then those violent means are for nothing. The death of the pawnbroker and her sister was in vain. But the non-consequentialist—and truer—description that Raskolnikov gives to Sonia can easily dispatch this critique. All that matters is whether Raskolnikov dares to grasp his destiny. Yes, he may fail to make his reforms, but that will just make him a bad feminist, not a bad hero, because he would have dared to do it. Napoleon marched across Europe for his own glory, and if he had to cast aside ideas of fraternité to do it, then so be it. Ultimately, he was defeated, and so in some way even he failed, but he dared to grasp his destiny. Dostoevsky points out that the great reformer is actually selfish at heart and can not be relied on to follow through, but we see that even if this is true, it does not expose a contradiction in the Napoleon idea.
Conclusion
Crime and Punishment fails as an immanent critique of the Napoleon idea. That is to say, it does not reveal any internal inconsistencies in the theory that great men, who move human history forward, can do as they please. That does not mean we have to like the theory. We are right to admire Raskolnikov’s love for his family and for the poor. And he is right to believe that a world full of Napoleons would be nasty and brutish. Jane Austen is unable to solve the sensible knave problem, but this doesn’t mean her novels are devoid of moral lessons. The same is true of Crime and Punishment; it fails to provide an answer to the Napoleon idea, but still inculcates in the reader the moral sentiments the author intended. Rather than strength of arms, we should desire the strength of character of Dounia and Razumihin. Rather than being superhuman, we should desire the humanity of Raskolnikov.
- Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment, the spelling of character names have been taken
from the Constance Garnett translation. ↩︎ - Hegel, The Philosophy of History. ↩︎
- Hegel, p. 30. ↩︎
- Singer, Hegel, p. 2. ↩︎
- Hegel, p. 27. ↩︎
- Mudde, Populism, pp. 86–13. ↩︎
- Dostoevsky, part 3 ch. 5. ↩︎
- Dostoevsky, part 5 ch. 4. ↩︎
- Dostoevsky, part 2 ch. 7. ↩︎
- Dostoevsky, epilogue 2. ↩︎
- Singer, p. 2 ↩︎
- Dostoevsky, part 3 ch. 5. ↩︎
- Tronvoll, “The Nobel Committee Should Resign over the Atrocities in Tigray”. ↩︎
- McPherson, “Aung San Suu Kyi: Myanmar’s Great Hope Fails to Live up to
Expectations”. ↩︎
Bibliography
Dostoevsky, Fyodor. Crime and Punishment. Translated by Constance Garnett. William Heinemann, Ltd., 1951.
Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich. The Philosophy of History. Translated by J Sibree. Dover Publications, Inc., 1956.
McPherson, Poppy. “Aung San Suu Kyi: Myanmar’s Great Hope Fails to Live up to Expectations.” The Guardian, March 31, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/mar/31/aung-san-suu-kyi-myanmars-great-hope-fails-to-live-up-to-expectations.
Mudde, Cas. Populism : a Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press, 2017.
Singer, Peter. Hegel : a Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press, 2001.
Tronvoll, Kjetil. “The Nobel Committee Should Resign over the Atrocities in Tigray.” The Guardian, June 7, 2021. https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2021/jun/07/the-nobel-committee-should-resign-over-the-atrocities-in-tigray.
Red Bearing 