Fatalism as an ineffective life scenario. Convinced fatalist - who is he?
Fatalist optimism
Abd al-Qadir thinks very differently. For him, the war continues. And very soon he makes the French feel that this is a very serious war. At the beginning of 1843, the emir raised an uprising in Ouarsenis. The militia of the Beni-Mnad tribe marches onto the Mitiju plain. In Dar he leads against the French fighting large Beni-Menaser tribe. The Sebau tribes are rebelling in the center of Kabylia. All Algeria east of Miliana covered people's war. Abd al-Qadir besieges the city of Shershel captured by the French. Within a few weeks, the emir deprives the colonialists of almost all the fruits of their conquests in the interior of the country.
The French have to start over again. Bugeaud divides his army into 18 columns and sends them against the rebel tribes. Abd al-Qadir, avoiding major battles, goes to the southwest of Algeria. In May 1843, he appears near Oran, destroys French posts and settlements of the colonists here, and then withdraws his army to the Sahara.
A very peculiar situation is developing in Algeria. All cities and almost all large villages were captured by the French. The colonists' farms multiply in the fertile valleys. Are founded joint stock companies for the exploitation of natural resources. The colonial authorities are trying to spread the administrative network of Arab bureaus throughout the country, subordinating tribal sheikhs to it. Columns of occupation troops are constantly moving from one region to another. By all indications, the country has been turned into a colony. But within her and independently of her she continues to act government Abd al-Qadir. His qaedas collect taxes, although not as regularly as before. His qadis administer justice, although not everywhere. And most importantly, the emir’s military organization is preserved, which remains viable and massive thanks to its reliance on tribal militias that arise wherever regular detachments of his army appear. As a result, the majority rural population supports the power of Abd al-Qadir, which acts regardless of the colonial authorities.
There is also a center of military-political and religious power of the emir, which, in relation to new conditions, has been transformed into a nomadic capital, which as a whole - together with the population, dwellings, institutions of supreme power and everything else - is constantly moving from place to place. This is a tent city - smala with a population of about 20 thousand people, the inhabitants consisted mainly of families of soldiers of the regular army and those sheikhs who led guerrilla warfare in various parts of the country. Along with the lard, workshops, infirmaries, weapons and food warehouses migrated. The hiding places contained the emir's treasury and valuables transferred for safekeeping by the tribes whose lands were occupied by the French. During the campaigns for lard, there was a huge convoy and herds of horses, camels, and sheep.
The secret storehouses prepared by the emir in past years provided the residents with bread along the way. In those areas where warehouses were discovered and plundered by the French, grain was supplied by the surrounding tribes as taxes.
Smala was well organized. It was divided into four deirs - nomadic camps led by sheikhs. If necessary, it was quickly removed from its place and could just as quickly set up camp after the hike. “The order of placing tents was subject to strict rules, says Abd al-Qadir. “When I set up my tent, everyone knew where they should position themselves.”
The emir and his army were not tied to smala. Leaving her in the care of his assistants, he leads military raids throughout the country, attacking the colonialists and inciting the people to revolt. Well aware of the movements of enemy troops, he delivers unexpected attacks and disappears, not giving the enemy the opportunity to organize pursuit. French generals are trying in vain to pick up the trail of his nomadic capital. Skillfully maneuvering, appearing with little effort either in the valleys of Central Algeria or in remote areas of the Sahara, the emir retains his strength for a long time and thanks to this continues to dominate the countryside.
“His true strength,” wrote historian Gabriel Esker, “lies in the speed with which he always, sometimes, albeit with difficulty, eluded our troops. It also lay in the strength of his character. He never bowed to failure and always found an answer to the most difficult defeats. He was always above his own destiny."
It was during this period that Abd al-Qadir reached the peak of his life path. It was at this time that the strength and integrity of his personality were most fully revealed - truly folk hero. The struggle actually loses the shell of a “holy war”, and its hero is the face of a religious messiah. The picture becomes simpler. Before us is a people enslaved by the conquerors, and their chosen one - a people's leader, defending the freedom and independence of his compatriots, prompted to fight by a purely earthly instinct of self-preservation.
While participating in this unequal and apparently hopeless struggle, Abd al-Qadir never lost faith in the success of his cause. He maintained this faith in any situation, no matter how difficult and hopeless they were. Even after French troops captured or destroyed all the Arab fortresses and the war took on the appearance of a driven hunt for the emir, he stubbornly and tirelessly continued the fight. It was not the blind rage of a doomed man or the desperate fury of a man who has nothing to lose. There was the optimism of the confident and the indomitability of the right.
The spiritual sources of the emir’s ineradicable confidence in his work should be sought in the peculiarities of his life perception, in his views on the earthly purpose of man.
For every true believer, these views are determined by fatalism, which K. Marx called “the core of Islam.” Islam takes away a person's free will. There is nothing that does not happen according to the will of the Almighty, even “a leaf falls only with His knowledge” (6:59). Man does not take even a step that is not provided for by God: “Whomever Allah wills, He leads astray, and whomever He wills, He places on the straight path” (6:39). A person’s life is planned in advance, actions are predetermined, desires and thoughts are predicted. A higher power determines everything that happens and everything that needs to happen. A person has no power to turn away from the path prepared for him.
What, then, is the fatalist doomed to passively await what is about to happen to him? So it’s pointless for him to try to change anything? There is no clear answer to these questions. It all depends on the person and the circumstances. G.V. Plekhanov wrote that “fatalism not only does not always interfere with energetic action in practice, but, on the contrary, in certain eras it was a psychologically necessary approach my main year (author's discharge - Yu. O.). As proof, let us refer to the Puritans, who far surpassed in their energy all other parties in England in the 17th century, and to the followers of Mohammed, in a short time who conquered to their power a vast strip of land from India to Spain.”
Fatalism gives rise to inaction, submission to the hustle and bustle of everyday life and fear of the unexpected in a person who is not confident in his own abilities and does not know what he wants. A purposeful fatalist is indomitably active and unshakably convinced of the justification of his actions. The absence of free will means for him only the unconditional necessity of fulfilling the set goal.
It is important in each given case to establish a type of fatalism, which can take all sorts of forms - from an unconscious everyday belief in the obligatory nature of everything that happens to sophisticated philosophical theories, interpreting free will, necessity, causality and other abstract things in a providential spirit. Depending on the form it takes, a fatalist can profess various life attitudes - from resigned humility to a rabid cult of strength. In the Koran itself it is easy to find passages similar in content to the aristocratic paganism of ancient rock. Or to the strict fanaticism of the teachings of the same Puritans about predestination. Or, finally, to the common people’s belief in fate, a personal destiny appointed from above: “And We have attached to every man a bird to his neck...” (17: 14).
This bird-fate most precisely symbolizes the fatalism of our hero. This symbol appeared among the Arabs in the pre-Islamic period. The bird personified fate for them; its image was usually included in the ornament on necklaces. A sign very mundane and concrete; fate in it is not separated from a person - it is always with you, next to you, on your neck; it does not obey its wearer, but does not subjugate him either; she is always with him and at the same time with him. A symbol that combines the stoicism of humility and the optimism of hope. It arose from a practical folk idea of the actual flow of life, irrevocable and unique, which means that everything that happened should have happened, and what will happen cannot be avoided, but indestructible and undying - that means, no matter what happens, hope always with you, and every cloud has a silver lining.
This peasant, pastoral fatalism, full of common sense and vitality, is very distantly related to theological or philosophical fatalism, which tears fate away from a person and turns it into a force alien to him and dominating him, pervertingly influencing his thoughts and actions. In the consciousness of a worker, no matter how religious he may be, this transformation usually changes only the form of life perception. The essence does not change because the inevitability of what is happening is now clothed in a divine shell: “This is what Allah willed,” and hope acquires a conditional dependence on a higher power: “What God gives is all for the better.” Labor activity - especially material - firmly keeps both a person and his destiny on earth. No matter what religious clothes he is dressed in - be it orthodox Islam or a semi-pagan baraka - the bird always remains on his neck.
This is where Abd al-Qadir's inescapable confidence in the triumph of his cause comes from. That's why one of the most severe tests he emerges unbroken and boldly looking forward. Of course, he drew his optimism not only from his own soul; its main source was in the spirit of the people, which was coexistent with it, in the spontaneous desire of the people to defend their freedom and independence. As long as the hope of victory lived in the hearts of the fellahs and Bedouins, as long as the emir's bird personified the fate of the people; she - and he along with her - was in flight.
Abd al-Qadir, with stoic tenacity, continued to fight against the disastrous fate that his enemies, also optimistic fatalists, but in their own way, were preparing for him. Their fatalism came from the very “logic of history”, which elevated the universal triumph of capital into an objective law of world development, inexorable and not having retroactive force. They were not afraid of storms then, their destiny was shining guiding star, which, according to their deepest conviction - both spontaneous and scientific - will never fade. “We must trust the future,” said Guizot.
The future made itself felt to Abd al-Qadir with increasingly terrible blows in the present. In May 1843, the Duke of Orleans, who led one of the French columns in the southwest of Algeria, was informed by Sheikh Omar bin Ferhad, who had betrayed the emir, about the location of the resin. The nomadic city was almost defenseless: only a few hundred warriors remained in it, mostly sick and wounded. The emir and his army were in another area. On May 16, the Duke suddenly attacked Smala, located in the Tagin tract in the south of the province of Oran. A wild massacre began. The soldiers, brutalized by greed, chopped off the women’s hands so that they could remove the rings without interference. Smala was completely destroyed. The French captured the weapons depots and the entire treasury of Abd al-Qadir. The emir's family managed to escape only thanks to a lucky chance. About three thousand inhabitants, including many relatives of the Arab leaders, were taken prisoner, the rest fled into the desert. Smala ceased to exist forever.
The capture of tar sharply worsened Abd al-Qadir's position. Many tribes broke away from him. Noting this fact, d’Esteyer-Chanterin, with the ironic gloating of the enlightened, asks in a book published in 1950: “Does the emir still retain his “baraka”?” The modern French historian does not want to perceive the emir as anything other than a religious fanatic, half-wild and naive, who in his infancy imagined that the fatal power of the barracks would allow him to lead the people. In this approach lies the same arrogance of the “civilizer,” who is indisputably confident in his own superiority and sees in any leader of the national liberation movement an uncouth “native.” As for baraka, as a religious shell of fatalism, it is essentially no different from any similar form, even from Guizot’s scientific theory of historical progress, imbued with cheerful fatalism.
It is not known for certain whether Abd al-Qadir tried to test mystical power barracks in zeal or otherwise after learning about the disaster. But it is documented that immediately after this he sent a message to his caliphs, which best characterizes his actual attitude to the vicissitudes of fate. “The French raided my village,” the emir wrote, “but let this not deprive us of courage; From now on, our time will be easier, it will be better for us to fight.”
The fall of Smala had a very painful effect on the sheikhs, especially those whose families were in the hands of the enemy. The emir's appeals could not significantly weaken this impression. All more sheikhs began to express its submission to the colonialists. Abd al-Qadir needed military successes to restore his influence in the country. But the only military achievement of the emir at this time was the defeat of the army of his oldest enemy - Sheikh Makhzen Mustafa bin Ismail, who became the main ally of the French in Algeria. The sheikh was killed in battle, and his treasury was seized by the emir's soldiers.
“In general, the conquest of the coastal strip was completed and was secured by a second line of fortified points advanced into the mountains. The first line of fortifications consisted of the coastal ports: Oran, Mostaganem, Tenes, Cherchel, Algiers, Philippeville and Bon; the second, internal, line, located in the mountainous strip, consisted of seven cities: Tlemcen, Mascara, Miliana, Medea, Setif, Constantina and Gullema.
The occupation of the designated points of the second line, while partly providing the French with peace of mind in the coastal zone, did not in any way ensure their possession of the mountainous strip of Algeria. These points did not yet have communication with each other and were under constant blockade.”
Relying on the tribes inhabiting the mountainous and desert areas, Abd al-Qadir seeks to destroy the French defense system. But the forces are too unequal. The Emir starts several major battles. They all end in defeat for him. In June 1843, his army failed at Jeddah. At the beginning of July, he unsuccessfully tries to capture Mascara with a surprise attack. In September, the French put his army to flight near Sidi Yusuf. In the battle of Sidi Iaiya on November 11, 1843, the regular army of Abd al-Qadir was completely defeated, the emir and a small detachment fled into the desert.
Around the same time, French troops destroyed the detachments of the emir's caliphs and independent leaders. Near Maskara: Ben Allal, a leader known to all the people and a close associate of Abd al-Qadir, dies in battle. His head is taken to the city of Algiers and displayed on a pole in the Arab Bureau. In the southeast, the French expel former bey Constantine Ahmed from the Biskra region. In the southwest, General Mare captures the Laguat area and sends a detachment to the Ain Mahdi fortress, where Tijini returned, having been expelled by Abd al-Qadir. The fortress cannot be taken, and the French are content with taking down its topographical plan.
Only a few tribes living in inaccessible areas remain loyal to Abd al-Qadir. Almost the entire country is under the control of French troops and detachments of sheikhs who have betrayed them. Bugeaud, confident of the final defeat of the emir, declares: “Abd al-Qadir lost five-sixths of his possessions, all his fortresses and food warehouses, his standing army and, worst of all for him, the prestige that he still enjoyed in 1840.” .
But the emir does not give up the fight. He is as active and tireless as in previous years. Abd al-Qadir gathers the remnants of his army in Deira and moves to the Moroccan border, where he prepares for new battles with the enemy. He knows that the tribes yielded to force, but did not submit, that he still has many loyal supporters in Algeria.
The French are still unable to subdue the Kabyle tribes, who more life value freedom. In 1844, the Kabyle leaders responded to Bugeaud’s proposal to recognize the supreme power of France:
“If you are definitely planning to take possession of all of Algeria, if your lust for power will be aimed at the subjugation of people for whom mountains and rocks serve as shelter, we declare to you: the hand of God is more powerful than yours. And know that profit and loss do not matter to us; we are accustomed to never fear either exile or death... Our mountains are vast, they stretch from here to Tunisia. If we cannot resist you, then we will retreat step by step to this country.”
In Kabylia, in the mountainous region of Djurjura, there is the faithful caliph of the emir, Ben Salem, who, at the first command of his leader, is ready to start a war against the colonialists. But there is no news from the emir. Rumors about his death are circulating throughout the country. Ben Salem sends messengers to the Moroccan border, ordering them to find Abd al-Qadir and give him a letter in which he calls on the emir to come to Kabylia to lead the uprising. The messengers deliver the letter to the address and carry a reply message, in which the emir writes:
“I received your letter informing me that rumors about my death have spread in the East. No one can escape death; such is the will of the Almighty. However - praise be to Allah - my hour has not yet struck. I am still full of strength and energy and hope to crush the enemies of our faith. It is by these abilities that men are recognized. Always be yourself, calm, confident, unshakable, and God will reward you. I will come to you as soon as I have completed the arrangement of my affairs in the west.”
Here in the west, Abd al-Qadir seeks to find allies to continue the war. He again sends ambassadors to England, Tunisia, to the Turkish Sultan, asking for their protection and help. Refusals come from everywhere, as before. Most of all, the emir counts on the support of the ruler of Morocco, Moulay Abdarrahman. The Sultan does not want to go to war with the French, but does not prohibit Abd al-Qadir from being on Moroccan territory. The emir gathers a new army, which was joined by many Moroccans, and begins to carry out raids on Orania.
Bugeau presents an ultimatum to the Sultan, in which he demands the extradition of Abd al-Qadir, the destruction of his troops and an apology for violating the border. Abdarrahman rejects these demands. France begins war against Morocco. On August 6, 1884, the French squadron bombarded Tangier. A week later, Bugeaud and his army cross the Moroccan border and head to the right bank of the Isli River, where the Sultan’s army awaits him. Abd al-Qadir's camp is also located nearby. The emir offers Abdarrahman the help of his troops and presents a battle plan, but the Sultan rejects both. Abd al-Qadir must be content with the role of an outside observer.
On August 14, the French completely defeat the Moroccan army, for which Bugeaud receives the title of Duke of Isly. France is ready to build on its success and begin to conquer Morocco. But the British government makes it clear that it will not tolerate the expansion of French possessions in North Africa.
Bugeaud is forced to withdraw his troops from Morocco. On September 10, 1844, an agreement is concluded in Tangier, according to which the Sultan declares Abd al-Qadir an outlaw in Moroccan territory, undertakes to disarm his army and stop all assistance to the Algerian uprising.
The Emir finds himself between two fires. But there are still no hopeless situations for him. He does not agree to carry out Abdarrahman's order to disband the army and voluntarily surrender. The emir sends messengers to Algeria with a proclamation calling for an uprising. In the fall of 1845, he and his army left Morocco to try their fate once again in their homeland.
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From the book Legends of World Rock author Surkov PavelFatum and free will
The main reason for the non-recognition of fatalism is the so-called. What modern society does not take seriously is the belief in the spontaneity of the creative process, the limitless possibilities of scientific research, which include an element of boundlessness and insight. At the same time, the scientific, engineering approach, trusting only the obvious and consistent, insists on availability such patterns even in creativity.
The word “fatalism” is often used as a synonym for “everyday” pessimism - from disbelief in the possibility of a successful outcome of an initiative to gloomy confidence in its negative result.
But still, in addition to “philistine pessimism,” the ancient, “philosophical” understanding of fate as a combination of initial factors is more widespread inanimate nature(all kinds of elements) and the consequences of the creation of living entities. For ancient man, all the irresistible elements are the creation of the “corresponding” gods, “the product of their creative efforts.” In addition to the freedoms of the omnipotent gods, in the same system, in contrast to and, at the same time, in addition to the concept of “fatum”, there is also such a thing as "lot"(lat. la:force ). This is like a “gap”, a variable in the program, thanks to which the implementation of the fundamental higher plan acquires living individual variability, and the sacrifices made by the heroes are a real justification.
In this regard, fate, the fatal - is a “collectively” created and “already-completed-in-the-future” machine, in which passive participants get the fate of a “cog”, a “tool” (“plebeium in circo positum est fatum”, lat. . - “the crowd is fenced in by fate”). As for active heroes, they have the role of “raw materials”, “consumables”. In this way, the fate of every living being constitutes a single “fatum-system”. In exactly the same way as a dramatic action is made up of episodes and remarks, taking place in the proposed circumstances and ending in the expected way. In this light, rebellion against rock- a feat that is meaningfully accomplished, destroying the hero, but influencing the “machine” as a whole; fraught, but necessary for existence “improvisation”. (“Fata volemtem ducunt, nolentem trahunt”, lat. - “Fate leads those who wish, and drags those who do not wish”). It is worth noting here that the Hellenistic (and “daughter” Latin) schools operate with the category of fate-fatuma as a whole in solidarity.
If we draw a rather conditional parallel with the “eastern doctrines”, then in the Indian tradition, apparently, the closest understanding of fate (daiva) to fate as a process will be such an understanding of fate (daiva), in which the bad karma of one leads and leads everything through the world of samsara (“Wheels of Life” ), and the kindness of another allows him to leave the circle of births. Moreover, the law is independent of God (God simply no longer needs boundaries). In the cyclically repeated existence of the world, with its original givenness, there is a universal law of existence(Dharma Sanskrit. धर्म, dharma). IN in a broad sense this applies to both Hinduism and Buddhism.
Abrahamic religions have a sharply negative attitude towards predictions and fortune telling.
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2010.:Synonyms
- (from Latin fatalis fatal, fatum fate, fate), a worldview that considers every event and every person. action as the inevitable realization of initial predestination, excluding free choice and chance. You can highlight... ... Philosophical Encyclopedia
fatalism- a, m. fatalisme m. Belief in predestination, inevitable fate. BAS 1. Predestination fatalisme, which, however, is noticed in one speech of the Savior, when he speaks of Iscariot. 1808. V. A. Ozerov A. N. Olenin. // RA 1869 5 133. Walking along... ... Historical Dictionary of Gallicisms of the Russian Language
- (new Latin with Greek ending, from Latin fatum rock, fate). A philosophical opinion that attributes all events in human life to blind predestination; fate, fate Dictionary foreign words, included in the Russian language. Chudinov A.N., 1910.… … Dictionary of foreign words of the Russian language
Fatalism- (Latin fatum - tagyr, fatalis - zhazmyshtyk) ; 1) tabighatta, қоғamada zәne әrbіr adamnіn өmіrіnde okigalardyn zhogary erikpen, jazmyshpen (rock), tagdyrmen aldyn ala anqtalatyndy turali philosophy concept; 2) wasps concept sәikes zhuris – turys… … Philosophy terminerdin sozdigi
Male, Lat. fate, fate in the sense of predestination, inevitable, providentially destined future. The basis of Islamism is fatalism. Fatalists deny the free will of man and his responsibility for his deeds. Fatalistic belief is disastrous for morality.... ... Dictionary Dahl
Stoicism Dictionary of Russian synonyms. fatalism noun, number of synonyms: 3 belief in an inevitable fate (2) ... Synonym dictionary
Fatalism- Fatalism ♦ Fatalisme Belief in the inevitability of everything that happens. Fatalism discourages action, and every fatalist is, first of all, lazy or should be lazy... Sponville's Philosophical Dictionary
- (from the Latin fatalis fatal, fatum rock, fate), the idea of the inevitable predetermination of events in the world; belief in impersonal fate (ancient stoicism), in unchangeable divine predestination (especially characteristic of Islam), etc.... Modern encyclopedia
- (from Latin fatalis fatal fatum fate, fate), the idea of the inevitable predetermination of events in the world; belief in impersonal fate (ancient stoicism), in unchangeable divine predestination (especially characteristic of Islam), etc... Big encyclopedic Dictionary
- (lat. fatalis fatal, predetermined by fate) 1) philosophical concept of the existence of predetermination by a higher will, fate, fate of events in nature, society and in the life of every person; 2) corresponding behavioral principle. Already in… … The latest philosophical dictionary
" poses complex philosophical questions to the reader. The main character thinks about them and tries to solve them to the best of his ability. However, such answers to such questions are not always available. They have existed as long as humanity itself has existed. Every thinking person, one way or another, tries to solve them for himself. The problem of fate in the novel “A Hero of Our Time” is precisely one of these the most complex issues. Pechorin’s attitude to this problem is interesting. The theme of fate is most directly posed in The Fatalist. This novella is the final one. And thus it is “Fatalist” that becomes a kind of conclusion philosophical quests Main character.
The problem of fate in the novel “A Hero of Our Time” is the problem of individual freedom and the possibility of choosing a life path. Does a person have the right to make this or that choice? Or is everything predetermined by fate, and man is only a follower? This question arises almost constantly, and is fleshed out in the final novella. Pechorin willingly tempts fate. We see this when he risks himself under the bullets of the Chechens; when you find yourself hunting; when he entertains his bored nature in all possible ways. Isn’t the adventurous story with Bela and the smuggler girl, “undine”, a test of fate? How else can you interpret the story with Grushnitsky’s pistol and the drunken Cossack? Pechorin is not afraid of anything, he plays with fate. Or he doesn’t so much want to get answers to his questions as to outline the boundaries of human capabilities.
Pechorin's position is certainly risky. However, is she really so different from the position of other characters in the novel, even minor ones? For example, the episode with the Yaroslavl peasant, the “carefree little hare”, is very interesting. He does not consider it necessary to get off the bench even during the dangerous descent from Mount Krestovaya. The man says: “And, master! God willing, we’ll get there just as well as they did: it’s not the first time for us.” In this case, we see submission to fate and at the same time a desire to experience it. The man is not afraid of anything, he simply does not think about danger.
Pechorin is concerned about issues related to man’s doom, his submission to fate. He recognizes certain conditions with which a person is unable to fight: “Listen, Maxim Maksimych, I’m unhappy; “Did my upbringing make me this way, did God create me this way, I don’t know?” If Pechorin admits that God created him this way, it means he resigns himself to a certain destiny. The contradiction of his nature is manifested in the fact that, on the one hand, he resists fate, on the other hand, he recognizes its influence.
Sometimes Pechorin honestly admits that he acted at the whim of fate. And his personal choice in this case did not matter. For example, in the finale of “Tamani” he says: “I felt sad. And why did fate throw me into a circle? honest smugglers? Like a stone thrown into a smooth spring, I disturbed their calm, and like a stone I almost sank!”
Of course, Pechorin recognizes that the problem of fate is closely related to the problem of human character. It is the personal characteristics of a person that can motivate him to take one or another action. And then a certain result is possible. An example is the moment of the duel with Grushnitsky. Pechorin is driven by the desire to test him human qualities, for which it provides him with favorable conditions. Pechorin wants “a spark of generosity to awaken in his soul, and then everything would work out for the better.” However, almost immediately Pechorin says: “But pride and weakness of character should have triumphed!..” In this episode we are again convinced: Pechorin believes that a person’s character is closely connected with his destiny.
The story with the lovely girl Mary again makes Pechorin think: “I walked slowly; I was sad.
Is it really possible, I thought, that my only purpose on earth is to destroy the hopes of others? Since I have been living and acting, somehow it has always led me to the denouement of other people’s dramas, as if without me no one could die or come to despair. I was the necessary face of the fifth act, involuntarily I played the pathetic role of an executioner or a traitor. What purpose did fate have for this?”
In the short story “Fatalist” we see a real “battle with fate”. The intention to conduct a cruel experiment with one’s life reveals a risky and contradictory nature. A bet with Vulich is not just a dispute between two people trying to defend their rightness. This is at the same time an attempt to challenge higher powers, to prove that a person is capable of his personal choice. The misfire and subsequent shot helped Vulich win the bet. For some time, Pechorin became convinced of the existence of fate.
Soon the main character had the opportunity to be convinced of the correctness of his own opinion. On Vulich’s face he noticed “the imprint of inevitable fate.” That same night, Vulich dies during a meeting with a drunken Cossack. Pechorin gets the opportunity to think “about the strange predestination that saved him from imminent death half an hour before his death.”
Pechorin’s own desire to try his luck forces him to neutralize the maddened killer, who locked himself in an empty hut with a pistol and a saber. He managed to fulfill his plans; in this case, fate was on his side. After the incident, Pechorin says: “The officers congratulated me - and there was definitely something to be said for.” In this case, we can say that one episode of trying to tempt fate, which was typical of Pechorin, turned out to be a benefit for people. In this case, Pechorin pursued not only his own selfish goals, but also thought about others. In other cases, Pechorin sought to assert himself “in empty action.” The episode with the drunken Cossack reveals the heroic qualities in his character.
In the final part of "Fatalist" we meet interesting statement Pechorina: “I like to doubt everything: this disposition of the mind does not interfere with the decisiveness of character - on the contrary; As for me, I always move forward more boldly when I don’t know what awaits me. After all, nothing worse can happen than death - and you can’t escape death!”
Some people are fatalists; they believe that their fate was written by someone before they were born.
Others, on the contrary, are confident that at every moment they make a conscious choice and build their destiny with their strong and smart hands, controlling the present.
The second type of people is the funniest.
If you suddenly feel this way, do you really think that you choose what to wear in the morning? Doesn’t it depend on the weather, not on the state of your wardrobe, not on the number of new centimeters on your hips, due to which it is better to throw away part of your wardrobe as a gift than to wear it? If you subtract from the “free choice” options everything that is tight for you, everything that you didn’t have time to wash, everything that doesn’t go with your new hair color, everything that went out of fashion the year before last, everything that is not at all suitable for the weather and not depending on the situation, it turns out that you can wear one or two, but the second is worse, so yes, one.
All other cases in life are the same illusion of choice.
Have you chosen your wife? Yes? And women stood around you like candidates for Miss World in a round dance from which you could choose? Or did you have just one single girl in whom it coincided that you liked her and that she liked you? And it didn’t coincide very well, I had to adapt, but there were simply no others. There were those who liked you more just as much, but they didn't need you. There were people in love with you, but you didn't need them. Maybe it seems to you that this sympathy of yours is your choice? Do you think that you could order yourself not to sympathize with your future wife, but ordered to sympathize? Hardly. The attraction arose by itself, everything happened almost without your knowledge, or rather without your strong-willed, conscious participation. You observed yourself more than you did anything seriously. Love is spontaneous, and sex is the realm of pure spontaneity. It’s possible to order yourself not to want something else (and only if you don’t really want it, but that’s it), but to order yourself to want it is definitely not possible. How did you make your choice?
Maybe you have chosen your profession? It is unlikely that you were talented in all subjects (average in all subjects - this could be). Whether you had talent or just ability, you knew from childhood that you would do something like this, and after school your choice was narrowed down to one single university where you wanted and could go. The rest simply couldn’t or didn’t want to, and there was nothing to choose from. If you are so mediocre and talented in everything that you could really go both ways, your choice was probably influenced not by your free will, but by something objective, external, forced. This university is closer and the industry is a little more prestigious, there is connections in the form of a friend, Aunt Tanya, and so on.
What people call "personal choice" most often consists of one the only possibility or two, of which one is clearly better. Or one is better, and the other is simpler, and the person tries on whether it’s worth wasting energy or whether this will do. It is not serious to call this dull calculation with the big word CHOICE.
Unless you have zero reflection, you have long noticed that the moment it looks like you are making a decision, the decision has already been made. It is predetermined by everything that already exists: your capabilities and objective circumstances. Your possibilities are very limited, and your circumstances even more so depend on a bunch of external things, so you don’t have to choose anything. And if you still have the illusion that you are the architect of your own happiness and forge it by making decisive and free choices in the present, you are simply a fool, not a very thoughtful and attentive person.
Is it possible to conclude from this that fate was written before your birth?
Of course not. Who the hell is interested in your fate? Imagine how many bacteria-like creatures like you are born in the world every minute. No one is interested in writing your destiny; you write it yourself, like a screenwriter, based on the available budget. The more boring the written story, the lower the budget for the next episode and the worse the airtime, and the lower the budget, the more difficult it is to come up with something exciting. Try to come up with an action movie for three rubles, if the main character is a balding gray collar worker, who has a grumpy, ugly wife and a Khrushchev woman, but not his, but his mother-in-law.
But the main ambush is not even the budget, but the fact that you hardly have any idea about the main law of writing your destiny.
Do you know him? No?
Now open.
It is impossible to make any choice in the present, but you can make one for the future.
Everything that happens to you in the present is already predetermined, 100 or 95%. But this was done not by someone from above, but by you, in the past. In the past, where your present was still the future, you had power and the opportunity to influence and choose, which you most likely did not use; or rather, you used it, but at random, carelessly and blindly. You could choose something better than that than what is happening to you now. But you were busy with the present, that is, already with the past. You fought against what was already predetermined, you resisted and suffered from the illusion of choice. It seemed to you that you could influence the present. But you could only influence the future. But they had no influence. And now, when the future has become the present, you fight with it again, resist again and suffer from the illusion of choice.
You just have to live in the present. You need to live it, feel it, take energy, accumulate experience, become wiser and stronger, avoid excessive stress, temper yourself with moderate stress, but not resist the wave coming at you. She will simply crush you and cover you. “Fate leads the obedient, but drags the rebellious.” You need to step onto the wave from above and maintain your balance, no matter how big and angry it may be, and if you can’t step at all, group and wait it out, or deviate a little to the side so that the losses are smaller. But you shouldn’t fight the wave or command it to retreat as if you were the mistress of the sea. It will break.
You just need to live the present, receiving benefit and pleasure if possible, and all your volitional efforts and conscious measures must be directed to the future!
While you are fighting the current wave, new wave It is just being formed, and you have the opportunity to take part in its formation, and over time learn to manage this process. In the latter case, you will truly become the author of your life and make conscious choices. But even then not in the present! And in advance, into the future.
Do you remember what elements and mental functions are responsible for the past-present-future? I have presented this diagram several times.
The future is air, the mental plane, the plane of consciousness and will. The present is water, the emotional plane, the plane of spontaneity (!) and energy.
Anyone who tries to control the present limits their spontaneity. They tense, think, doubt, hesitate, hesitate, and as a result they get less than what they could get. One must surrender to the flow of the present. Not recklessly, but with minimal resistance, with a straight back, but flexible. Surfers and skiers will teach you, if you are not them yourself. And if they are at least partially, you can easily transfer this scheme to the rules of life in the present. The present is a flow. It has already taken shape, it is formed, don’t fight it with your mind. With your body - yes, you can try to spring back a little, but rather in the form of a game. In sparring with fate, not boxing, but aikido is better suited; you need to use the flow in order to strengthen your maneuver, and not just hit it like a punching bag. He is much stronger than you, you are just a person, and this is FATUM, FATE.
But when it comes to the future, you are the builder of your destiny. Even if you act at random and blindly, write with your back paw, you understand little about it, but you will learn to do it better if you turn your mind there, and not to fight with the present.
Remember the examples. You can’t choose what to wear today, because you have only two dresses in your wardrobe depending on the weather, but one is not enough for you. But you can choose what to wear tomorrow (in a month). You can take care of your figure and your choice of clothes for the next season.
You cannot choose a profession right now, you are hired for only one vacancy, out of all the ones you would like to go to. But you can learn something today and tomorrow the list of vacancies will expand. And today you don’t really choose what to learn, the list of possibilities (and desires) is limited, but when you learn something new, this list will expand, because you will change a little.
As for your wife... Today you can no longer choose her. She is who she is or she is not there at all. But tomorrow your wife may become better. Today you can do something that tomorrow will reduce the default and your wife will become friendlier, warmer and more playful. And if you are single, you can choose the path of change today and these changes will give you new opportunities tomorrow.
One must be a fatalist in relation to the present, since this is already fate, but one must be a doer in relation to the future, since there is no fate yet, it is just taking shape. The pen creaks, leaving a new line about you in the Book of Fates, and what this line will be depends on you. At first it depends to a small extent while you are just learning how to scribble writing there, but the better you master this very Doing, the more you will influence fate.
This, in general, is the main secret of alchemy (the Great Work, making oneself a conscious, proactive person, this is the only goal of alchemy, if you do not mistake garbage for alchemy). We need to understand where exactly the process of change occurs. Tomorrow. And today we reap the fruits of yesterday. It is better to reap them with gratitude, self-irony and a healthy dose of indifference.
Now imagine what most people look like. They look into the future obediently, like fatalistic sheep, “what will be will be” (secretly expecting that someone will take care of them and give them food). But they are fighting the real thing with all their might, using rolling pins, tongs, and other torture instruments. They demand to cancel everything bad and give good things, they beg, they are indignant, they are indignant, they cry. No, no, not like that, I don’t want something else, not this! Or they think, rack their brains, and make a “painful choice.” It's late, relax. Get busy with the future. Everything is still melted there, everything is in the process of preparation and you can sculpt the shape you need. But you are so caught up in the struggle with the present that you have no time for the future.
Why do you think it’s the other way around for people?
What about you? Is it possible to do it?
I once happened to live for two weeks in Cossack village on the left flank; an infantry battalion was stationed right there; The officers gathered at each other's houses one by one and played cards in the evenings. One day, having become bored with Boston and throwing the cards under the table, we sat at Major S***’s for a very long time; The conversation, contrary to usual, was entertaining. They reasoned that the Muslim belief that a person’s fate is written in heaven also finds many admirers among us Christians; each told different extraordinary cases, pro or contra. “All this, gentlemen, does not prove anything,” said the old major, “after all, none of you witnessed those strange cases with which you confirm your opinions?” Of course, no one, many said, but we heard from faithful people... All this is nonsense! - someone said, - where are these faithful people who saw the list on which the hour of our death is appointed?.. And if there is definitely a predestination, then why are we given will, reason? why should we give an account of our actions? At this time, one officer, who was sitting in the corner of the room, stood up and slowly approached the table, looking at everyone with a calm look. He was a Serb by birth, as was clear from his name. Lieutenant Vulich's appearance corresponded completely to his character. High growth and his dark complexion, black hair, black penetrating eyes, a large but correct nose, belonging to his nation, a sad and cold smile that always wandered on his lips - all this seemed to agree in order to give him the appearance of a special being, incapable to share thoughts and passions with those whom fate gave him as comrades. He was brave, spoke little, but sharply; I didn’t trust anyone with my heart and soul family secrets; He drank almost no wine at all; he never pursued young Cossack girls, whose beauty is difficult to achieve without seeing them. They said, however, that the colonel's wife was partial to his expressive eyes; but he was seriously angry when it was hinted at. There was only one passion that he did not hide: the passion for the game. At the green table he forgot everything and usually lost; but constant failures only irritated his stubbornness. They said that once, during the expedition, at night, he threw a bank on his pillow, he was terribly lucky. Suddenly shots rang out, the alarm sounded, everyone jumped up and rushed to their weapons. “Go all in!” - Vulich shouted, without getting up, to one of the hottest punters. “Seven is coming,” he answered, running away. Despite the general turmoil, Vulich threw a tally, the card was given. When he arrived at the chain, there was already a heavy firefight. Vulich did not care about bullets or Chechen sabers: he was looking for his lucky punter. Seven given! he shouted, finally seeing him in the chain of skirmishers who were beginning to push the enemy out of the forest, and, coming closer, he took out his purse and wallet and gave them to the lucky one, despite objections about the inappropriateness of the payment. Having fulfilled this unpleasant duty, he rushed forward, dragged the soldiers along with him and, until the very end of the matter, exchanged fire with the Chechens in cold blood. When Lieutenant Vulich approached the table, everyone fell silent, expecting some original trick from him. Gentlemen! he said (his voice was calm, although in a lower tone than usual), gentlemen! why empty disputes? You want proof: I suggest you try it on yourself, can a person arbitrarily dispose of his life, or is a fatal moment assigned to each of us in advance... Anyone? Not for me, not for me! was heard from all sides, what an eccentric! will come to mind!.. I offer a bet! I said jokingly. Which one? “I affirm that there is no predestination,” I said, pouring out about two dozen ducats onto the table, everything that was in my pocket. “I hold it,” Vulich answered in a dull voice. Major, you will be the judge; here are fifteen ducats, the remaining five you owe me, and be kind to me and add them to these. “Okay,” said the major, “I just don’t understand, really, what’s the matter and how will you resolve the dispute?.. Vulich walked out silently into the major's bedroom; we followed him. He walked up to the wall on which the weapons hung, and at random took one of the different-caliber pistols from a nail; We didn’t understand it yet; but when he cocked the trigger and poured gunpowder onto the shelf, many, involuntarily screaming, grabbed his hands. What do you want to do? Listen, this is crazy! They shouted to him. Gentlemen! he said slowly, freeing his hands, who wants to pay twenty ducats for me? Everyone fell silent and walked away. Vulich went into another room and sat down at the table; everyone followed him: he motioned for us to sit in a circle. We silently obeyed him: at that moment he acquired some kind of mysterious power over us. I looked into his eyes intently; but he met my searching gaze with a calm and motionless gaze, and his pale lips smiled; but, despite his composure, it seemed to me that I read the mark of death on his pale face. I have noticed, and many old warriors have confirmed my observation, that often on the face of a person who is to die in a few hours there is some strange imprint of inevitable fate, so that it is difficult for accustomed eyes to make a mistake. You will die today! I told him. He quickly turned to me, but answered slowly and calmly: Maybe yes, maybe no... Then, turning to the major, he asked: is the gun loaded? The major, confused, did not remember well. Come on, Vulich! someone shouted, he must be loaded, if it was hanging in his head, what kind of desire to joke!.. Stupid joke! picked up by another. I bet fifty rubles against five that the gun is not loaded! The third one shouted. New bets were made. I'm tired of this long ceremony. “Listen,” I said, “either shoot yourself, or hang up the pistol in its original place, and let’s go to sleep.” “Of course,” many exclaimed, “let’s go to bed.” Gentlemen, I ask you not to move! said Vulich, putting the muzzle of a pistol to his forehead. Everyone seemed to have turned to stone. “Mr. Pechorin,” he added, “take the card and throw it up. I took from the table, as I now remember, the ace of hearts and threw it up: everyone’s breathing stopped; all eyes, expressing fear and some vague curiosity, ran from the pistol to the fatal ace, which, trembling in the air, descended slowly; the minute he touched the table, Vulich pulled the trigger... misfire! Thank God! many cried out, not charged... “We’ll see, however,” said Vulich. He cocked the hammer again and took aim at the cap hanging over the window; a shot rang out and smoke filled the room. When it dissipated, they took off their cap: it was pierced in the very middle and the bullet was deeply embedded in the wall. For three minutes no one could utter a word. Vulich poured my ducats into his wallet. There were rumors about why the pistol did not fire the first time; others argued that the shelf was probably clogged, others said in a whisper that before the gunpowder was damp and that after Vulich sprinkled it with fresh; but I argued that the latter assumption was unjust, because I had my eye on the pistol all the time. “You are happy in the game,” I said to Vulich... “For the first time in my life,” he answered, smiling smugly, “this better than a bank and shtoss. But a little more dangerous. What? have you started to believe in predestination? I believe; I just don’t understand now why it seemed to me that you must certainly die today... This same man, who had so recently been calmly aiming at himself, now suddenly flushed and became embarrassed. But enough is enough! he said, getting up, our bet is over, and now your comments, it seems to me, are inappropriate... He took his hat and left. This seemed strange to me and not without reason!.. Soon everyone went home, talking differently about Vulich’s quirks and, probably, unanimously calling me an egoist, because I bet against a man who wanted to shoot himself; as if he couldn’t find an opportunity without me!.. I returned home through the empty alleys of the village; the moon, full and red, like the glow of a fire, began to appear from behind the jagged horizon of houses; the stars calmly shone on the dark blue vault, and I felt funny when I remembered that there were once wise people who thought that the heavenly bodies took part in our insignificant disputes over a piece of land or for some fictitious rights!.. And what? and? these lamps, lit, in their opinion, only to illuminate their battles and triumphs, burn with their former brilliance, and their passions and hopes have long ago died out with them, like a light lit at the edge of the forest by a careless wanderer! But what strength of will was given to them by the confidence that the whole sky with its countless inhabitants was looking at them with participation, albeit mute, but unchanging!.. And we, their pitiful descendants, wandering the earth without convictions and pride, without pleasure and fear, Apart from that involuntary fear that squeezes the heart at the thought of the inevitable end, we are no longer capable of making great sacrifices, either for the good of humanity, or even for our own happiness, therefore we know its impossibility and indifferently move from doubt to doubt, as our ancestors rushed from one delusion to another, having, like them, neither hope, nor even that vague, although true, pleasure that the soul encounters in every struggle with people or fate... And many other similar thoughts passed through my mind; I didn’t hold them back because I don’t like to dwell on some abstract thought. And what does this lead to?.. In my first youth I was a dreamer, I loved to caress alternately gloomy and rosy images that my restless and greedy imagination painted for me. But what does this leave me with? only fatigue, as after a night battle with a ghost, and a vague memory filled with regrets. In this vain struggle I exhausted both the heat of my soul and the constancy of will necessary for real life; I entered this life having already experienced it mentally, and I felt bored and disgusted, like someone who reads a bad imitation of a book he has long known. The incident of this evening made a rather deep impression on me and irritated my nerves; I don’t know for sure whether I now believe in predestination or not, but that evening I firmly believed in it: the proof was striking, and I, despite the fact that I laughed at our ancestors and their helpful astrology, unwittingly fell into their rut; but I stopped myself in time on this dangerous path and, having a rule not to reject anything decisively and not to trust anything blindly, I threw metaphysics aside and began to look at my feet. This precaution was very useful: I almost fell, bumping into something thick and soft, but apparently lifeless. I’m leaning over the moon has already shone directly on the road and so what? in front of me lay a pig, cut in half with a saber... I barely had time to examine it when I heard the sound of footsteps: two Cossacks were running from the alley, one came up to me and asked if I had seen a drunken Cossack who was chasing a pig. I announced to them that I had not met the Cossack, and pointed out the unfortunate victim of his furious courage. What a robber! said the second Cossack, as soon as he got drunk, he went off to crumble whatever he found. Let's go get him, Eremeich, we need to tie him up, otherwise... They left, and I continued on my way with greater caution and finally arrived happily at my apartment. I lived with an old policeman, whom I loved for his kind disposition, and especially for his pretty daughter Nastya. She, as usual, was waiting for me at the gate, wrapped in a fur coat; the moon illuminated her lovely lips, blue from the night cold. Recognizing me, she smiled, but I had no time for her. “Goodbye, Nastya,” I said, passing by. She wanted to answer something, but just sighed. I closed the door of my room behind me, lit the candle and threw myself on the bed; only the dream this time made itself wait more than usual. The east was already beginning to turn pale when I fell asleep, but apparently it was written in heaven that I would not get enough sleep that night. At four o'clock in the morning two fists knocked on my window. I jumped up: what is it?.. “Get up, get dressed!” several voices shouted to me. I quickly got dressed and went out. “Do you know what happened?” the three officers who came after me told me in one voice; they were pale as death. What? Vulich was killed. I was dumbfounded. “Yes, he was killed,” they continued, “let’s go quickly.” But where? Dear, you will find out. We are going. They told me everything that happened, with an admixture of various remarks about the strange predestination that saved him from certain death half an hour before his death. Vulich was walking alone along a dark street: a drunken Cossack ran into him, chopped up a pig, and perhaps would have passed by without noticing him, if Vulich, suddenly stopping, said: “Who are you, brother, looking for?” You!“ the Cossack answered, hitting him with a saber, and cut him from the shoulder almost to the heart... Two Cossacks who met me and were watching the killer arrived in time, raised the wounded man, but he was already at his last breath and said only two words: “He right! I was the only one who understood dark meaning these words: they applied to me; I unwittingly predicted the poor man’s fate; my instinct did not deceive me: I definitely read on his changed face the mark of his imminent death. The killer locked himself in an empty hut at the end of the village. We were going there. Many women ran crying in the same direction; From time to time, a late Cossack would jump out into the street, hastily fastening his dagger, and run ahead of us. The turmoil was terrible. Finally we have arrived; we look: there is a crowd around the hut, whose doors and shutters are locked from the inside. The officers and Cossacks are arguing heatedly among themselves: the women are howling, condemning and lamenting. Among them it caught my eye significant person old woman, expressing insane despair. She was sitting on a thick log, leaning her elbows on her knees and supporting her head with her hands: she was the mother of the murderer. Her lips moved from time to time: were they whispering a prayer or a curse? gun; a bloody saber lay next to him. His expressive eyes rolled around terribly; sometimes he shuddered and grabbed his head, as if vaguely remembering yesterday. I did not read much determination in this restless look and told the major that it was in vain that he did not order the Cossacks to break down the door and rush in there, because it was better to do it now than later, when he completely came to his senses. At this time, the old captain came to the door and called him by name; he responded. “I’ve sinned, brother Efimych,” said the captain, “there’s nothing to do, submit!” I will not submit! - answered the Cossack. Fear God. After all, you are not a cursed Chechen, but an honest Christian; Well, if your sin has entangled you, there is nothing to do: you will not escape your fate! I will not submit! The Cossack shouted menacingly, and you could hear the cocked trigger click. Hey, aunt! “Esaul said to the old woman, “Tell your son, maybe he’ll listen to you... After all, this is only to anger God.” Look, the gentlemen have been waiting for two hours already. The old woman looked at him intently and shook her head. “Vasily Petrovich,” said the captain, approaching the major, “he will not give up,” I know him. And if the door is broken, many of our people will be killed. Would you rather order him to be shot? There is a wide gap in the shutter. At that moment a strange thought flashed through my head: like Vulich, I decided to tempt fate. “Wait,” I told the major, I’ll take him alive. Ordering the captain to start a conversation with him and placing three Cossacks at the door, ready to knock it out and rush to my aid at this sign, I walked around the hut and approached the fatal window. My heart was beating fast. Oh, you damned one! - shouted the captain, - are you laughing at us, or what? Do you think that you and I can’t cope? He began to knock on the door with all his might, I, putting my eye to the crack, followed the movements of the Cossack, who was not expecting an attack from this side, and suddenly he tore off the shutter and threw himself head down through the window. The shot rang out right next to my ear, and the bullet tore off my epaulette. But the smoke that filled the room prevented my opponent from finding the checker lying near him. I grabbed his hands; The Cossacks burst in, and less than three minutes passed before the criminal was already tied up and taken away under escort. The people dispersed. The officers congratulated me - that’s right! After all this, how can one not become a fatalist? But who knows for sure whether he is convinced of something or not?.. and how often do we mistake for a belief a deception of feelings or a blunder of reason!.. I like to doubt everything: this disposition of mind does not interfere with the decisiveness of my character; on the contrary, as for me, I always move forward more boldly when I do not know what awaits me. After all, nothing worse can happen than death, and you can’t escape death! Returning to the fortress, I told Maxim Maksimych everything that happened to me and what I witnessed, and wanted to know his opinion about predestination. At first he did not understand this word, but I explained it as best I could, and then he said, shaking his head significantly: Yes, sir! Of course, sir! This is a rather tricky thing!.. However, these Asian triggers often misfire if they are poorly lubricated or if you do not press firmly enough with your finger; I admit, I also don’t like Circassian rifles; they are somehow indecent for our brother: the butt is small, and just look at it, it will burn your nose... But they have checkers just my respect! Then he said, after thinking for a while: Yes, it’s a pity for the poor fellow... The devil dared him to talk to a drunk at night!.. However, apparently, it was written in his family... I couldn’t get anything else out of him: he doesn’t like metaphysical debates at all.