Darkness at Noon, Arthur Koestler (1941)
I decided to read Darkness at Noon, because of that horrid little weekly “By the Book” column in the NY Times Book Review in which authors lie about the books on their nightstand. It’s a column that I can’t resist reading, in hopes that some week I won’t feel inadequate. Francis Ford Coppola had his moment in the column on December 21, 2017, and his interview was refreshingly honest and relatable. I read Darkness, because he liked it.
Darkness was written in German by Hungarian-born Arthur Koestler and published in English in 1940. The manuscript, hastily translated in English, had been smuggled out of Paris as Koestler escaped the approaching Nazis. Modern Library selected it as one of the 100 best English-language novels of the 20th Century. (The original novel in German was found in 2015, and is said to be better than its flawed originally-published English translated version. I read the apparently flawed, yet hailed, version.)
The novel is an account of the arrest, interrogation and trial of a fictional Bolshevik named N.S. Rubashov. While no actual countries and individuals are named, it is no doubt an account of the purges and Soviet show trials by Stalin in 1938. There is a repeated reference to a group photograph of the original leaders of the Revolution, most of whom have been purged and executed by the time of Rubashov’s arrest, with Lenin identified as the Old Man with a sly and amused look in his slit Tartar eyes. Koestler himself had once been a Party member, and the account grows out of his disillusionment and resignation from the Party in 1938.
Rubashov, an original revolutionary seated two seats to the right of Lenin in the old photograph, a military hero leader of the Party in the Red-White civil war, the leader of the Communist International for two decades, is arrested for counter-revolutionary acts in 1938. He is interrogated, confesses to all charges at his show trial, and is executed.
Koestler uses the dialogues of the interrogations and Rubashov’s prison-diary and prison cell ruminations to reveal the decay of the Party, the cynicism of No.1 (Stalin), and the consequences of the Soviet Marxist science of history. Ultimately, Rubashov is a product of Revolution and the primacy of the cold logic of the Party, and his confession is his acknowledgement of his place in that logic.
The central question is whether he betrayed himself by confessing. There is no doubt that Rubashov’s resistance to the trumped-up charges would have meant extended torture to the death, but Rubashov had previously endured torture in Nazi prisons. At one point, he is taken to a prison barber who slips him a note to “Die in Silence.” I took it to mean that Rubashov should resist to the end by not confessing.
The historical inevitability of socialism serves as the backdrop to the motivation. The Party of the Revolution holds that the ends justify the means. Ultimately, the subjective state of an individual is unnecessary noise, and even the grammatical first person “I” must be replaced in thought and conversation with “The Party.” Only the Party has the interests of the historical end-state of socialism in its hands. Any thought or action that varies from the directives of the Party, whether subjectively held in good faith or not, is counter-revolutionary. Sentiment is an irrelevant distraction and ultimately undermines the objective. As Rubashov’s interrogator argues, Gandhi is one of the greatest criminals in history, because his sentimentality interfered with a disciplined, sustained liberation of India.
Debate of the means to the end creates weakness. Only one entity, the Party, can determine the correct course of action to the end. And only the leader of the Party, No. 1, can determine the path of the Party. At one point, Rubashov sees (through the peephole of his cell door) the great and heroic leader of the Soviet navy led, tortured and broken, along the prison corridor to execution. His crime had been to advocate the manufacture of large submarines, while No. 1 believed in the manufacture of smaller, more defensive submarines. The admiral’s opinion was that large submarines would assist in the eventual world-wide Revolution. No. 1’s logic was that the Revolution in the Soviet Union was not yet sufficiently consolidated and strong, especially in light of the rising of the fascists, to export international Revolution. Debate interferes with the correct course of action; therefore, the admiral must be eliminated.
It becomes apparent during the interrogation that Rubashov, in fact, privately holds concerns that the Revolution is being betrayed by the cynicism of No. 1. The purge of the leaders of the Party is a mistake, the death of millions of peasants from forced collectivism is a mistake. No. 1 sensed Rubashov’s thoughts. Counter-revolutionary thoughts eventually result in consequences that undermine the Party.
So, why does Rubashov confess to the counter-revolution activities, including the absurd charge of conspiring with a foreign power? Rubashov develops in prison his own theory of history and submits it as his initial confession. He holds that history is not a linear path to socialism, but is cyclical. It takes generations of time for the masses to adjust to technological advances, and during those gaps of time it is necessary for leadership to hold total power to prevent chaos among the masses. This is such a time, and Rubashov must sacrifice himself in acknowledgement that the Party must be endowed with absolute power for the historical good of the people. Afterall, he recalls instances in the International when he followed orders by exposing workers in other countries who had deviated from the instructions of the Soviet Party.
Rubashov’s theory of cyclical history is heretical to the Marxist linear science of history, and while it facilitates his confession, it spells doom to his first interrogator, Ivanov, a former close comrade of Rubashov. Ivanov had elected to not apply any torture to elicit a confession, but instead provided time and writing paper to Rubashov so that Rubashov could himself come to the logical realization that a confession, even to false charges, was the sensible course of action for the betterment of the Party. Ivanov is then himself charged, tortured and executed for his cynicism of the charges and for setting a course of action in which Rubashov created a dangerous theory of history. Ivanov is replaced by his former subordinate, Gletkin, who interrogates Rubashov under harsh lights for 23 hours a day over weeks. He eventually elicits a straightforward confession from Rubashov.
The second interrogator, Gletkin, was born a peasant and is self-educated. He is young and did not experience the Revolution, and his subordination to the Party is unfailing. He does not allow himself any compromises, and he conducts the continuous 23-hour interrogations with absolute repose. His uniform is always crisp, he always sits in perfect posture, he never smokes or excuses himself for a rest break, he never smiles. Gletkin obtains the confession with impeccable, absolutist arguments. Coppola, in his Times column, mentioned that he will always remember the character of Gletkin.
However, it is not Gletkin’s physical pressure that causes Rubashov to confess. It is Rubashov’s rationalized private theory of history that the masses are not ready to lead, and that the Party needs his support. It is his final gift to the Party. In fact, he takes the imperative to Die in Silence as a command to overcome his inner subjective vanity and to silence his pride by announcing his capitulation to the charges.
It is worth noting that George Orwell argued, in a 1944 essay, that Rubashov just folded from exhaustion, cynicism, and fatalism, not necessarily from some noble rationale of political reasoning. The final line of Rubashov’s diary confession is “The fact is: I no longer believe in my infallibility. That is why I am lost.”
Darkness is an indictment of the Soviet Union and what the Party became under Stalin. There is perhaps the slightest hint that Koestler felt that Stalin had corrupted a potentially good Revolution led by Lenin, but the indictment is unyielding and unforgiving. There can be no rationalization of the Party.
An interesting side note is that even as Koestler’s renunciation of Communism was complete, other Communist apologists shunned his work. Apparently, Communists in Hollywood successfully prevented Darkness at Noon from being adapted for a movie after WWII. Orwell argued in his Koestler review that while it was tempting for British and Americans to flirt with the Soviet ideal, continental Europeans who had experienced it had a much more legitimate reaction to the regime.
From today’s vantage, it is interesting to see how political philosophy was once such a powerful motivational force, whether the American Revolution, the Soviet Revolution, or the National Socialist theories. Marxism today seems distant and quaint, replaced worldwide by the maw of capitalism and the exercise of personal power. Since the fall of the USSR, the political world is driven only by wealth, power and piecemeal partisan issues. Former communist leaders now rule their countries, having abandoned the facade of ideology. Former reality TV shows with strong personalities and showmanship are elected. As Rubashov laments, No. 1 succeeds because “has faith in himself, tough, slow, sullen and unshakable.”
Bob Fall 